un/intentionally harrowing & bewildering
the charades of the charlatans
the escape of the convicts
the ink of the writers
the voice of the voiceless
the hunger of the urchins
the straits that lead home
what is the homecoming that is often evoked:
in words, in dreams and in hope.
it is the last breath that we owe death
and try to prolong the meeting.
“homecoming” will never come to be.
just as gratification will never equal happiness.
just as consumerism will only consume us.
just as what i drink drinks me.
pleads the sailor to the ocean
“guide me through the night;
don’t let me die tonight.
may i not be drowned in this ever blue i see
before i see sun light”
the water behaves as it should
apathetic to our special midnights
and takes delight in consuming those
that ask mercy for their plight.
may he that has not betrayed his soul
sail beyond the horizon to shore
for he is the minotaur.
the acts of life shall be played along
and we’ll sing our lungs out
till the swan song
making good on our practice
we’ll pretend to love the cascades
hang our lives on the walls as tapestries
binge watch our childhood memories
jump on the hamster wheel
hoping the wheels fall off
and in between the passage of time
we shall actually live and not just survive.
live; like the gods that were promised.
and not just in the delusion of a god complex.
but in living colors: full of heart & tears.
hallucinating on the beauty of the world
and delighted by the wonders of it
laughing at the mundanity
and moving on from the special days
finally knowing that the answer
was always there
the search was of finding the question.
मंच 