Tag: mypoem

An Old Heartbreak

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I am back…
The conundrum lasts…
There is no answer.
Broken bones into casts.

Broken hearts scatter into dust.
The wind has no mercy.
It does what it must –
And I keep hearing it…

The worst is the limited joy,
It shines delightful and true
Then it succumbs, it breaks,
Fool me, nothing’s new.

Broken joy scatters as it will.
What can I wilfully save?
The wind is blowing cold,
Time never forgave.

What should I offer?
How do I find what I seek?
When can I hope?
Why is joy so delicate, so weak?

Knowledge of me shatters inward.
Am I but a mind not heart?
Was this sundering
A reason enough to start?

The moon dies again.
She cannot help tonight.
The wind is so damn strong,
There’s no will left to fight.

I hear the echoing voice,
To it my hope I forsake,
I am back,
Whispers an old heartbreak.

Expensive Chocolate

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

If I think of all the earlier times,
Of all the dried tears, of all the mixed rhymes,
When I sit and listen quiet to thought,
To all the blissful dreams innocence brought,
The hopes that felt lost somewhere in prayer,
Futures predicted by some soothsayer,
Fathers who seemed to loom so dark and large,
Or those who sold loving words for a charge,
Sailboats guided by dragons in the rain,
Cold nights of love and colder nights of pain,
Ailing mothers who took away sorrow,
Sisters who bravely gave their tomorrow,
Lovers who came, came and crushed all desire,
Feeding worn faith to a funeral pyre,
Grandparents who spoke of idyllic days –
In short, life’s each ephemeral phase.
I remain wide-eyed and alone.
Derelict and silent. A tombstone.
Quietly sipping expensive chocolate,
Thinking about will, wondering about fate.

Unhappy

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

There is this part of me,

A responsibility,

I feel it every day,

Scraping my insides,

I have reasoned with it,

Telling it to grow up,

Be strong and face life

And its reality.

I have bargained with it,

Giving it compassion,

Clothes and food,

Even a daily hug;

But it wants more.

I cannot give this thing

A loving glance,

It has remained the same,

I’ve outgrown this dance.

It asks me at daybreak,

If I still feel passion;

But time has changed me,

In every physical fashion.

It seeks to feel what I gave,

A long time ago,

I choose to bestow a hug

And nothing more.

It asks me at noon,

If I remember it at work,

And I want to yell

“How can I forget your fucking nails?”

It asks me at twilight,

If the sun is as gold

As the time we danced,

I look at the gold and think

How many more years

Before it burns out.

Perhaps if I ignore the thing,

Its own need will eat it alive.

I’ll prevent a rescue,

Even if it is from me –

Perhaps sadness will do the deed

For it can never be happy.