Culture

Few porcelain cups

Went back to its original states

Some herbal digestives melted

On the floor of rented luxury

The tenure ends

And we go back

On fighting for our original states

Diabetes

What is chaos

Probably a girl with a balloon

In a group of adults

Or a piece of never heard band

At a gallery full of arts

I normally woke up from the bed

In dried out red

And a crystal had bothered so much

I had struggle loving back

For the question was asked

And the answer….

Chaos is the extra sugar

I have mixed in a cup

Out of love.

List of creepy things

The ant trail

On the wall coated with calcium

One dead body

Smelled like water

Five books

Half of my existence

And three pita breads

13hours 49minutes old

And you still think

It has no meaning.

A badly rolled home

The man

Who had sex with his headphone on

The cockroach committed suicide

Jumping into the boiling pulses

One packet of rotten tobacco

With some seeds

Inside

And a pair of rainboots

At winter

The circle of water

At monsoon

The grave of my brother vanishes

Underwater

Like the sunken city of Baia

And I am

From thousands of mile away

Unable to swim

Wait

For the dry to come

I would run away

Thousand miles more

To catch up with the water

Once moistened his dead skin

Wiped off his salted wound

An endless abyss

In low tide one can even walk

A little further

A little closer

Towards the shade of the sea

Rats

If I look back
Where do I look back
What do I see
In faces
If I filter
Sort it accordingly
What do I get
An unwell face
Waiting for the sound
Of my boots
In hospital bed
A mother
Hugging me
For assurance
Her daughter will be alright
A head turning back
Again again
For a good bye
And a smile
A smile
If I look back
I see pen tattoos
Same as mine
On hands of lost souls
Two of my favorite monkeys
Climbing walls
Learning how to be the anarchist
We all are supposed to be
There is a home
A castle of memories
Roof of happiness
If I look back
I see a closed door
Of smoke will kill me soon
Where I have locked
And wrapped my castle of love
I would go back
Lighting my dusty chandeliers up
I will be home with my spiders
And all the lost rats
Hiding behind the closed doors
Of nicotine smoke
They are welcome
If I look back

Arthur

They said he will rise again.
They said he will fight again.
In our greatest needs,
Not when one Kingdom bleeds

Was he the light?
Or he the darkness now?
Our eternal need,
Saving us somehow?

Paperless books, before we permanently go blind,
Is it him, switched off the lights
Greatest king and kind.

Markets, not anymore exist now,
Nor the smell of meats and dirt
Darkness? What else that is,
Evolution or witchcraft?

Sometimes, all go down.
We step out for sunlight.
Sometimes, I sense him
Return of the greatest knight.