Posted in Current Affairs, Literature, Philosophy, Poetry, Relationships, Religion, Society, tagged accept, again, alive, allow, alone, anyone, atonement, before, book, breathe, carry, cavern, clock, cold, corner, darkness, days, death, deep, deep ocean, deserve, door, drown, end, endless, escape, expectation, face, fail, fearful, feel, flip, freedom, fulfillment, future, give, guess, guilt, hands, happiness, happy, hell, helpless, hide, home, honesty, hours, how, imaginary, last, later, liar, life, listen, live, mask, masquerade, mess, mind, monologue, nag, naked, necessity, nobody, open, out, overflow, page, pass, peace, people, person, poem, poetry, pretend, priceless, prison, process, push, ready, sad, shut, silence, sit, sleep, something, sorry, soul, stare, stay, survival, talk, thing, thrive, time, understanding, vastness, want, weight, wish, words, world, writhe, yourself on April 22, 2013|
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Why flipping a page from the book is necessary
to pass time and you know that the hands of the clock
won’t turn back the hours that have been.
And you sit there on a corner
endlessly stare in silence,
writhing in the cold naked
without a soul breathing-
you shut them out of your world.
Why talking within your mind in monologues nags you
with guilt as if your life is a mess and you are helpless
about the future and guessing how it will ever end.
And nobody knows that there is a deep cavern
that you can’t escape. While you live the days
carrying the weight of an imaginary prison-
you wish that death is the only freedom.
Why people come and go as soon as the door opens
and later you close them. Never wanting them to stay
nor understand you like you always did before.
You said they deserve to be happy with the ones
who can fulfill their happiness and you are sorry-
that you are not going to be the person
who can be able to give the expectation.
Why does sleep won’t come as peacefully
like words that overflowed within you but won’t be heard
and you think that anyone would not be ready
to listen to any of it. Because they will feel the
vastness of the deep ocean and they can get drown
and won’t survive alive. And even they- will feel
the same death that you have wished for yourself.
Why darkness is a fearful thing and yet you thrive in it
as if you allowed atonement for something or for someone
you have failed in the process. And honesty is priceless
but you keep on hiding that sad face within a mask
and wishing that this masquerade won’t last.
You go home alone again in the knowing
that you have not pretended to be accepted
for who you are. That is. Liars will go to hell.
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Solitude Amidst the Maddening Crowd
Hames 
10 Hours
Posted in Current Affairs, Literature, Memoirs, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics, Relationships, Social Commentary, Society, Technology, tagged burnout, deadline, hours, issues, poem, poetry, work on April 1, 2015| Leave a Comment »
I look at the numbers wishing and hoping
the sun will eclipse now, anytime soon
to kill boredom and dread afflicting souls
shoving imaginary hands of tyranny
strangling the life in humans.
I see squares in blank paper,
in blank screens contained in a box
with four corners I can’t retreat nor surrender
to the establishment who pays the rent.
Whose only consolation is a shape on the wall-
you call window with a view of the outside,
leaves from trees hissing and teasing
about the monotony of the lines.
Too much lines I followed and treaded
on a high wire. In surreal silence
like years and ages etched into my face.
It filled the pillow of dreams each night
I imagined that I won’t bow down
to that desk anymore. Slaved to wait
the longest minutes I run until it’s time to go.
I dreamt that there’ll be no more squares
but orbs and circles beyond the hours.
No more visions of clocks slowing seconds
and inner screams burning out at its grip.
Only time, a ticking bomb for a meltdown.
10 hours
as if they own me.
Dead line.
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