Jiya: Favorites

Oct 2018 Jiya

E B K

The best words
and lines
and moments
I cannot use

they are too personal
precious
private
to ever be heard
seen
by anyone

but me

#words #lines #moments #privacy

Jan 2018 Jiya

Chutes and Ladders

Jan 2018 Jiya

Mike Hauser

Chutes and Ladders

Life is a game of Chutes and Ladders
At every step you roll the dice
What you think really doesn't matter
Each day you'll either climb or slide

With every move you take your chances
You will either rise or plunge
Don't ask me, I have no answers
You'll never know until you're done

Where every step along the way
Is a case of do or die
It makes no difference in how you play
With every day a roll of dice

In this game of Chutes and Ladders
That some out there fondly call life
Where your next move at any given moment
You will either climb or slide

Jan 2018 Jiya

Blissful Peace

Jan 2018 Jiya

wordsorpoetry

Blissful Peace

And I fell in love with a time.
2am to be precise.
When the air is so thick with silence,
that you'd be fooled into believing your heart had stopped.
And the universe had stopped
and tormented souls had finally stilled.
When the moon casts ghostly shadows
over homes, trees and empty roads.
When artificial lights have long faded
and all that's left is moonlight.
And stars lie like freckles across the black sky.
How very pure the world looks
at 2am,
with white light streaming through the darkness.

(Oh what a blissfully peaceful time)

#night #love #peace #happy #moon #stars #poem #poetry #light #universe

Jan 2018 Jiya

Where did you go?

Jan 2018 Jiya

Romali Arora

Where did you go?

"Where did you go?" I asked
The one who loved
the reds, the blues, the purples and pinks
The one who chased butterflies,
the rainbows, and her dreams
"Where did you go?" I asked again
This time, a little louder,
a little impatient
"Where did you go?"
The one who laughed so loud, the one who danced
the one who sang to the rhythm of the rains
"Where did you go?" I asked,
a little hurt this time
The one who, with so much love,
baked cakes and cookies
Sending them, on a binging spree
"Where did you go?" I asked again
Standing in front of the mirror
screaming,
tears welling up in my eyes
and finally flowing down like a stream
"Where did you go? And why?
Leaving me behind!
Alone. Battling. Struggling. Gasping.
Come back.
Come back.
Come back, please.
Just for once.
Let me feel you for a brief moment.
The one lost to this heartless world.
Let me feel you...
Just for a moment
Just for a moment
Just for a moment...

For all those who miss what they were once, the side of their personality that has been lost to this ungrateful world, for all those whose innocent dreams have been trashed, here's a little dedication. :)

#love #self #discover #lost #found #sad #happy

Jan 2018 Jiya

Hanged

Jan 2018 Jiya

Bo Burnham

Hanged

I hung myself today. Hanged? Whatever, point is I hanged myself today and I'm still hanging.

I feel fine. Just bored. I keep hoping that someone will come home and cut me down but then I keep remembering that if i knew someone like that I wouldn't be up here. Bit ironic, right? Or is that not ironic? I read somewhere that, like, anything funny is, in some way, ironic. But I don't know if it's funny or not. I don't think my brain owns "funny," you know?

I feel taller. I like that.

I've never been away from my shadow for this long. It had always clung to my feet, parting momentarily for a quick dive into the swimming pool. But never for five hours. I like it. There's three feet of space between my two and the floor.

I wanted something this morning. I may be stuck. But at least I'm three feet closer to it.

I wanted the book to engage a wide variety of tones and feelings – from seriousness to silliness and from elation to melancholy. This particular poem is from the perspective of a man who has just hanged himself. I thought it was interesting to write a poem from the perspective of someone who has just hanged himself and is pretty nonchalant about it. That someone is /not me/, and that’s half the fun of writing – being able to put yourself in foreign situations and see things from others’ perspectives (and to empathize with them). The poem is definitely dark and a little unsettling but the page before this was a poem about flies buzzing around dog poo. The world is full of dark and light and I just wanted the book to reflect that :)

— The End —