Frame

by frame

my life's collage

takes a unique shape.

But, one frame stays empty.

-

Let us make. An extra dark coffee.
No, not here. Outside. On the stairway.
My back, the ceramic plate to heat upon.
Don't you put your kettle on before I'm hot and red.

Drops would be trickling down, on the right spot.
Wait, till I make your kettle ready and hot.
Time to put some beans, let those water flow.
Beat those beans hard. Harder the better.

Let the steam rise, whistle would make a rumble
Sound of bubbles colliding will make us stumble.
Finally when the coffee is about done,
Add more beans, fast and haphazardly. Extra dark.

Time to serve,
Hot and bitter.
All over me,
Without any mercy.

-

-

I
often forget
to remember my
own perception of seclusion.

-

The
Day you
Became my bff
I truly started smiling
and forgot how to cry?

-

A
Wooden staircase
Across the hallway
Smelling of countless goodbyes
With the promise to meet again.

-

Yes,
I do.
Three magical words,
making mother proud twice,
He sacrificed everything, joined army.

-

The stairs I want to climb

-

Neither
Your rudeness
Nor
Your offhand
Allow me to hate You

-

We're all on stairs my friends,
some are going up,
some are going down.
The one's that ascend higher,
embrace its consoling ride of
mephistophelian presence.
You're not any more alone my friend,
it's just the matter of Realization
that you've begun to relish its essence.

-