Drowning

It is liberating.. I can feel the water drawing me in, entering my lungs and clearing my breath. The voices in my head, the screaming and the dreaming.. It all comes to silence. This is liberating, letting go and not moving a muscle, not trying to resurface. Watching the sunlight scattering all over me like a million falling stars. I can hear some people mumbling around the lake, some shadows. But I’m smiling, I’m letting go. I feel comfortable, it feels like a mother’s womb. Warm, holding me close, washing away all my pain. I can’t breathe no more but look at those tiny bubbles, they’re my life.. I’ll give it all away and what not, to stop these voices inside my head. Look, a tear running down my cheek, it feels warm and peaceful. Should I resurface or let go? I feel like I’m drowning and it’s kinda beautiful…

Elastic hearts

They walk around the streets,

Wearing perfume on their sleeves..

Looking to share everything but trust,

Laughing for hours but crying first..

Holding hands but shadows apart,

With bodies of stone and elastic hearts..

©Hira Chaudhry

© Image courtesy: Fine art America

Paint..

The color of your soul, is precisely what my darkness seeks..

The compelling strokes of your brush, creating wild ocean peaks..

These cravings that evoke me, more than I’d like to confess..

The touch of your fingertips, for my body is your canvas..

Monkey-master!

When I was a kid I saw a man in my street every day, they called him the “monkey master”.

He’ll tell his little monkey friend and he’ll dance and walk and laugh and clap. And all the kids will laugh with him..

As my childhood disappeared, so did the monkey master.. I kept wondering where did he go, what happened to him?

Years later I saw him, in an interview by a local reporter. Showing him gradually dying of poverty, as people don’t watch the monkey shows anymore. Some find it dangerous, some think it’s cruel, some say it’s unacceptable to have animals dancing around the streets. Crowds and gatherings need special permissions due to possibility of terrorist activities, etc.

They asked him, if he can do something else to make money..

He said, ” I learnt some woodwork and became a carpenter but couldn’t make as much of a living, because that’s not where my heart lies.

My monkey was my little baby, my best friend. We ate together, danced together, cried together. Every night I fell asleep thinking of all the new things we’ll learn to do together..

People don’t like to watch shows like that anymore, but that’s what I am good at. That’s all I know.. That’s what I did all my life. I don’t know how to be otherwise, be someone else.”

I realized I feel the same.. people don’t love these days, some find the term eternal love as unacceptable and preposterous. Some think it’s dangerous and even overrated, but that’s all I know. I can’t do otherwise whether someone wants it or not.. All I have is “love” to give and share.. I am like the monkey master, will I die suffering too? Just like him…

Restless

Hold my hand and run away,

Far from the city lights..

To spend a night in the forest,

Hear the birds sing a lullaby..

To watch the wild game of survival,

As the little deer learns to fight..

See the rain kiss the earth,

An anticipated reunion with the sky..

Hold my hand and run away,

To the mountain shining bright..

Let’s fall, in love then stray away,

Till we carelessly learn to fly..

©Hira Chaudhry

Image courtesy: Pixabay

Horizon

Forever together,

But never becoming one..

You and I,

Like the glowing horizon…

Cold

Bring me the warmth,

of the lies of your love..

It’s been too cold,

too true..