Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Cohabitation

We're both
You and I
Packets of conflict
Which we've somehow learnt
To package within
The warm comfort
Of chaos
And cohabitation.

We're both
You and I
Starved
Within our respective set ups
Of repute and fulfilment
The flakes of which erode
As we dunk
Head first
In our tentative hooks of attachment.

We're both
You and I
Seeing through this shallow
Merciless
Groping world
Together
And within the counted hours
Of agitated murmurs
Do we find the sanity
Of shared dissent.

We're both
You and I
Ready to fly
Unto the horizons
Of risings dawns
And calming twilight
For too much light
Was never our turf
To play out the game of life
Within.

We're both
Getting by
On truth and a lie
Unhinged from our reality
But necessary for theirs.
Our existence only counts them
As expressions
Potent
If well uttered.
Our truth encompasses
The need to lie
To keep palaces of love
And lustre
Afloat.

We're both
Sitting aloof
Under a common roof
Of practiced codes.
We're drilling
Endless skies of imagination
Within these roofs of convention.
Our belonging is in pristine secrecy
Unhindered by mores
Undefined by the knowns.

We're both,
Both brave and naive
And hence lethal
To conditioning
And evolution
Of mimetic contours and edges.
We're tracing our own
Eclectic filigree
Of infrequent passion
Subsumed by over-awing need
To be different people
Within the same
Ancient
Conventions of chivalry.

We're both
Breaking conventions
By upholding chivalry.
Our rebellion is quiet
Lit by clandestine glee
In the warm glow of which
We carve a sub-realm
Of demands and unrealistic dreams.
Realism was never our cup
Or perhaps it was
Not that china held in dainty hands
But one gurgling on wobbly beams.

We’re both
Evolution’s pride
And each other’s private nightmares
Full to breaking with intensity
We know our lust for creativity
Can subsume.
We’re yellow today
And red tomorrow
And blue in distance
And golden each rise of morrow.

We are
Our private griefs
Shared from a distance
For the insistence
On owning our misery
Is absolute.
Our misery makes us whole
Our love breaks us
Into miserable quarters
Of timepieces set wrong.

We’re both
Accepted by the obtuse
And scorned by the obvious.
We’re both
Silenced by conversations
And stirred by observations.
We’re both
Traced by the confused

And rejected by definitions.

Source - Wallpaper Craft

4 comments:

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