love – My letters

Unfinished

Scattered around my half-made bed

are books half incomplete.

Half of your painting now

stares me down from the easel,

Half of the unwritten poems

await in the abandoned sheets.

That’s me,

unfinished.

Half of my….

Halves

I was the beginnings
and you were the ends, 
I was the sunrise 
and you,the sunsets.

Weren't we both 
just half written poems,
waiting to meet 
and be one song. 

Weren't we both 
the last two puzzle pieces 
waiting to be chosen
 and be finally solved. 


Darling, 
tell me again..
where did we go wrong?

Only a poet can bring meaning to the meaningless

Beauty is inane without the observer.

Like the moon,

It’s just a rock spinning around in space,

but our ability to envisage beauty brings meaning to it’s craters and it’s glow.

The poet writes–

‘The moon changes it’s shape every night, sometimes being there completely, ko sometimes sharing a part of it and sometimes hiding in the dark, but it is never distant, it never abandons you’ –

———

Beauty and the beast

Why should I write about the flowers,

the sunset and love?

Words that romanticize beauty

have created fictitious expectations in the lover’s mind.

Write about the thorns,

the eclipse and betrayal.

Let them know that beauty is a spectrum.

Words that romanticize darkness will harden the lover’s soul.