A lot was said that night

They came home from office

both too exhausted to fight

poured themselves a drink

a lot was said that night

In their tipsy state they taunted

subtle roasts were exchanged

poured themselves another drink

a lot after that night changed

In their resentment they lied

said their love for each other died

poured themselves a third drink

‘marriage vows’ secretly cried

In their egoistic state they fought

and neither of them won

as they emptied a fourth glass down their throat

the heaviness fell upon their son

In their utterly drunken state

absurd arguments turned into fight

as their son fearfully trashed bottles

a lot was 'heard' that night

Comments

December 31st, Sunday I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. When I exhaled, I could feel strands of my hair flying with the wind as every last trace of tension left my body. My feet felt relaxed against the calm of river water. My son was splashing some on me, giggling so much my chest ached at not bringing him out for picnics more often. The gushing of water brought my buzzing thoughts to a standstill. In that moment I wasn’t bound by the baggage from my past, nor was the uncertainty of the future holding me back. In that moment, as I focused on the rhythm of my heart- I was living. The thought made me calm. I opened my eyes to see my son still playing with water. It was five minutes to sunset which I so eagerly brought my son to show. From the riverside, it looked delicious at the backdrop of a pinkish blue sky. The view was clear without any obstruction of skyscrapers. It was only a few blocks away and I was visiting it after fifteen y...

Read here »

The Forced Carnival

[Image source: AI-generated with DALL·E] Some of the most remarkable experiences in life aren't necessarily 'fun'. They're deep as poetry, moving as the ocean waves and layered with intermixing emotions. With this piece I wanted to highlight how joy shouldn't be compulsive, or how 'fun' isn't 'fun' if fun needs to be chased. ~~~ You must assemble near the Ferris wheel, and we’ll play a game of deception We’ll sprint after ‘fun’ on broken glass, and catch only its reflection We must ride the Ferris wheel at sunset, and we’ll smile no matter how tired we’ve been We’ll smile for the strangers, the cameras, the aesthetic, we’ll smile because our ‘fun’ needs to be seen Dizzy as we may be, we’ll keep the wheel turning, unease building as we reach the top But if the social script demands we ride, What’s a little nausea to make us stop? We’ll ascend with rehearsed glee, screams buckled in for more Convinced the view will be different, though we’ve see...

Read here »

Thinkle

Search This Blog