Love in Dementia

When the words, I Do are said in a wedding,
two souls are binded by love,
to love and to care for each other,
through all the good times times and the rough.

But now it seems death is not needed,
for them to part,
for they hardly remember each other,
from the start.

Memory lapses are cruel,
for it denies true love to flourish,
a loving relationship that should last,
is as good as perished.

But eventually true love will prevail,
it would be their final light,
they would then lie in each other's arms,
an endless slumber into the night.

The Moon

The sun seeks salvation,
as the sky is painted black,
a new light emerges,
a dimmer glow in fact.

The moon sits atop the clouds,
gazing straight into our eyes,
its warmth felt in our bodies,
a heavenly feeling to be precise.

But tonight that feeling,
is nowhere to be found,
is something wrong with the moon?
its no longer as magical as it sounds.

In the distance,
it’s as if the moon gazes at a star,
a star seemingly distant,
you can barely see it from afar.

I can feel the moon,
wanting to reach out to it,
for now rather impossible,
would they ever meet?

In one particular evening,
the moon emerged with hints of red,
as if it has been crying,
for that star that was once said.

Peculiarly enough,
the rain fell down in droves,
beating hard into the Earth,
is this really love?

Another star glitters in the sky,
as if to wipe those tears away,
the rain became lesser and lesser,
perhaps it has something to say.

The rain finally halted,
and I swore I saw the moon turn,
with a slight glance at the distant star,
hoping it would once again return.

Within a moment,
the moon shone brighter,
I gave a wry smile to the sky,
“I’ll pray for your happily ever after”




To miss Moon, wherever you are.

Michael Jackson 1958 - 2009

Entertaining fans for decades,
with a sequined glove in hand,
a trademark scream,
50 years passed.. an abrupt end.

He made it hip,
to learn our ABC's,
he taught us how,
to Blame It On The Boogie.

He grew,
he couldn't stop till he had enough,
that was the beginning,
he just had the right stuff.

Off The Wall,
he then turned Bad,
ironically telling us,
to Beat It instead.

He made it possible,
to dance backwards with style,
shocking all viewers,
when the Jackson 5 reunited for a while.

He made it decent,
to grab his crotch,
with his toes upon the ground,
like a ballerina's touch.

Everyone wanted to be a zombie,
when he danced with the undead,
denying he had a son,
when Billie Jean was made.

We Are The World,
fed millions all around,
singing You Are Not Alone,
echoing the message in its sound.

He wanted to Heal The World,
he made it a better place,
he made it possible,
with his artistic ways.

He was a Dangerous entertainer,
simply excellent beyond good,
but still he wanted us,
to look into his Childhood.

He made us realise,
to make this world better,
in order to make change,
we have to look at the Man In The Mirror.

Over time,
he became a victim,
of cruel tabloids,
and the media attention.

He was cruelly barraged,
with words of fire and stone,
and now finally,
he could be left alone.

We echoed Marlon Jackson's sentiments,
When you left us,
a part of us left with you,
but a part of you,
will live on with us forever.

A sobbing Paris said she loved you so much,
and so do we,
may your legend live on,
you made it great for you and me...


Live on MJ.

Time

Time seems long,
it may seem short,
it's simply relative,
to the user's thoughts.

See it through my perspective.
it is totally your call,
treasure every moment.
or be oblivious to it all.

To appreciate a single year,
ask the student who failed,
skipping revision to play,
another year would have sailed.

To understand a single month,
ask a mother with a premature baby,
what a difference a month would make,
the life of one could be changed completely.

The significance of a week,
can be comprehended by a survivor,
that one week of enduring pain,
suffered at the hands of disaster.

Just one more day with a loved one,
that is how a patient would seek,
one with a terminal illness,
clinging on to life with a frame so weak.

The pain of enduring an hour,
may be truly felt by a waiting lover,
where time just stays still,
the passing of one minute seems like forever.

A minute may be redundant,
try to ask a man who missed the bus,
a minute is all he needs,
to determine if he is slow or fast.

A second is hardly felt,
but that is all it takes to live or die,
ask a man who escapes an accident,
between a sigh of relief or a tear in one's eye.

A milli second may be nothing,
but ask the person who won silver,
in a sport's meet of such close quarters,
he wished he had trained harder.

Time may be playing tricks on you,
but do not ignore it all,
spend your time wisely,
or it could be your downfall.

Unlike Any Other

A son asks his dad,
who is the strongest of all?
is it superman?
who could break through walls.

The father then replies,
with a smile on his face,
this person she’s strong,
no one would dare to face.

She is immune to all pain,
she has strength beyond compare,
she uses these powers wisely,
only for the ones she care.

She can move really fast,
she can do many things,
she’s like the Flash,
and a multitasking king.

Love her, you should,
you could clearly see,
the strength of one’s love,
reflected upon me.

When you are stuck with a problem,
and a solution can’t be found,
simply think of your mother,
and calm yourself down.

It will give you the belief,
to overcome your mess,
as the saying goes…
Mummy knows best.

Freedom

Struggling with issues,
that no one comprhend,
independence being seeked,
met with a wave of a hand.

Denied of any answers,
livid beyond belief,
teenage adolescence..
today's new found grief.

Cries falling onto deaf ears,
pain being shared with none,
living through this endless pain,
never seeing the Sun.

Seeking independence,
freedom from these chains,
loneliness tying it down,
could drive anyone insane.

Aimlessly walking down a road,
with nowhere else to go,
no signs or indication,
people come, people go.

With one final attempt,
a last cry beyond the sea,
"Dad, I have problems"
a reply,"Not now.. I'm busy"

Love-Fight-Patch

All seems rosey and bright,
living in a fairy tale dream,
happy to be loved and to give,
as much as it seems.

Holding each other's hands,
parading their love to the world,
the girl cherishing the moment,
the boy shouting "This is my Girl!"

Staring intently into his eyes,
the boy staring a little lower down,
he may not be a perfect gentleman,
but the girl loves his time around.

Everything seems perfect,
nothing could be better than this,
nobody will break them apart,
however at night something's amiss.

They quarelled over the phone,
seeming to be at their wit's end,
screaming at one another,
words too stretched to comprehend.

They quarelled for an hour,
then it became three,
telephone companies must be happy,
their phone calls are never for free.

The defeaning screams,
were then met with an eery silence,
the girl asked for a break up,
the boy showed no defiance.

He was too shocked to react,
he was paralysed with fear,
what would life be without his baby,
his sadness summoned out his tears.

He plunged his head into the pillow,
crying like a twelve year old girl,
understandably vulnerable,
his baby was his world.

When the sun greeted him with light,
he rolled off onto the floor,
not caring for pretty much anything,
he wished things were like before.

Then the phone rang,
and a familiar name flashed,
"it's her! i'ts her" he shouted,
and so he dashed.

his ego did not stop him,
for her voice was like a remedy,
to the pain that she has brought him,
truly ironic if you ask me.

His momentary happiness,
quickly changed to concern,
he was crying in pain last night,
now is her turn.

He asked her what's wrong?
and she replied "I miss you",
she added "Let's get back together".
"I really want to be with you".

Rejoice fellow people,
for the couple is back together,
their love neverending,
a bond never to be severed.

On that day they felt relieved,
they are fated to be one,
night time comes again,
all that effort was undone.

The process of loving fighting and patching up,
almost seems like the times of a day,
maybe in fact they are meant to be together,
in this neverending love of the chaotic way.