Eternal Sunset, Empty Eyeballs

The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”
― Fernando Pessoa

So empty these eyeballs I see

Dry of imaginations mysteries

Do they feel what I feel?

Plain truth lives deceits

Audience do they seek in me

To witness some silent speech

Far off can they heave?

Into vastness of eternities

Empty eyeballs

Eyeballs emptied

Life Evolves, Memories Not

The past beats inside me like a second heart.

― John Banville, The Sea

Good times, when they are gone

Leave a sweet taste behind

Alive still, still in my heart

Like a story in rewind

Collapsed bridge long back

Gone days never come back

Little of me still attached

Those voices and sounds

Little of me still cares

If things are still around

Fossilized memories

Unwashed imprints

They remain, always

A good kind of pain

World is in flux

Always changing

Life evolves

Memories not.

For In Time To Remind

I always walk
on the broken step, the
others all avoid it,
I walk on it
to remember.
~Barney F. McClelland

Forgetfulness is an easy choice. Some memories are best forgotten. Buried deep down they are safe and far from bothering me again. Yet I cling on to some not because I want to savour or treasure them but for a careful remembrance. Each time I face it there’s comfort in knowing that I won’t be doing that same thing again. Why do I do that even when I know that it chips off a part of me? I’m not eccentric and am not insane either yet some blunders or mishaps are worth retaining. It doesn’t hamper my present activities, never deviates or confuses me or dulls my senses but it does add a hint of forbearance and savoir-faire. 

Letters you gave me I kept

Tore them apart in my eyes

No longer have they smelt sweet

Reeked of rot and lost trust

Forget I must

Never saw them again

Not with these eyes, but

Sometimes I recall all those lines

Which you wrote me in my primes

In scribbled gibberish

I could hear your rummy voice

They were destined to be ashes

Forgotten inks, pages in stasis

I kept those forgotten pages

For half-remembrances

For in time to remind.

Even Flow

Even flow, thoughts arrive like Butterflies

Oh, he don't know, so he chases them away

Someday yet, he'll begin his life again

Life again, life again...

~Pearl Jam

Like always,

I was thinking about the times long gone

tree that still stands there and so does the rising Sun

still so fresh, animatedly etched in my memory

but good way off my reach on the contrary

those suspended times I often go back to

to school arcade, nigh park or my college street

Like always,

I was thinking about the times ahead too

if truth said I don't have much to tell you

explorin' heterogeneity of my oneiric world

feelin' the ceilings, measuring how vast they will be

familiar faces smiling, fortifying every turn

while I keep swimmin' uncharted territories

I don't have to think about present times

not much juggling with reason nor with rhymes

do what I got to do, stroll, jog or run fast

winds of every season past, all mixed at one

good times wrapped along rough times

feathering sharp edges moments of fun

It takes more than just efforts, sometimes

flow isn't always so even, oddities stretched

along the tracks, debris obstructing

the flow of rain, left alone, I alone sloppy and enraged

I do what anybody would do, actions- reactions

without much ado