Tag Archives: language

Inside Jokes

They’re speaking in foreign tongues

Like a lost league or a dead language

To my native ear, it’s all new and naive

Unknown to me, unfamiliar and strange

But for all of us, it doesn’t really matter

If I don’t understand a single thing at all

For their genuine smiles are contagious

And the art of laughter is always universal.

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standing in the shadows

I’ve been living so long in the darkness
I know the cold embrace of the night
When morning comes I close my eyes
‘Cause I’m blinded with the light
Taking a chance of a feeling
Is like waiting for a flower to grow…

~*~

i don’t know if i can

still wait for the shadows

to form into a decipherable shape

.

patience is a suit in my sleeve

and love is a foreign language i can’t speak

in a consciousness that won’t awake

,

i don’t know if i can

still expect that the silhouettes

will coalesce into what they always

ignorantly called “fate”

,

but i’ll stand here

in the darkness

and i’ll wait…i’ll wait.

~*~

Too many people
Are standing in the shadow
Standing in the shadow of love…

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Odes And Dedications

I’d write you a million letters

You left me at a loss for words

Halfway around the world, yet

You stole my breaths unfurled

.

I’ll compose until my hands ache

And my quill protests ‘no more’

Until I dried up all the ink I have

And literates stop keeping score

.

I’d write you in ballads and sonnets

Limericks, haikus, and silly rhymes

I’d write you odes and lengthy epics

That shall withstand the test of time

.

And all the troubadours and minstrels

Will speak of your name for centuries

Immortalised between yellowing pages

Of prose and verse and lines of poetry

.

I’d write you a million novels and books

‘Til I run out of words to use in every language

And even then, it still won’t fully express

Just how much you truly made this bard change.

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silent summers and wasted memories

They used to be the rivers
That would take us away
But now you only call me
Every Christmas and my birthday…

~*~

diving into

liquid reveries

and searching for

lost words

i could never

set past my

grievous tongue

in endless

nights of misadventure

and chicanery

rife with fondness

and hyperbole

and playful kicks

jovial as it hits

our wayside brains

though never

directly spoken

we were speaking

in a language

that only we

could decipher

leaving the rest of

the world to wonder

what amuses our

strange souls so

little did they know

we were laughing

at them all along

for they could

never understand

how these broken gears

spin and stutter

and how we turn such

mechanical gnashes

into a symphony

listening to each other’s

lilting cacophonies

until sunset hits

our bloodshot eyes

bidding us its goodnight

and i yearn for those

pastel-shade days…

of glib tongues

talking about stuff

and sheer nonsense

and insensibility

and rancid relativity

and bouts of sovereignty

in blue screen deaths

and sleep infidelity

now a distant polaroid

fettered in grey

and fragmented by time

a memory daze—

i break the surface of

my reminiscing

almost forgetting to

catch my breath

and write the words

i remembered to think

but never said aloud

hoping someone could

still hear the wind…

it was a delicate summer

and yet, rather wasted

on dead air and empty silence

that much, i know

that much, i could see

and that much, i wonder

i wonder if you knew

and i’m rather curious

why are we wasting

time again?

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