Words and Voices

Do they wonder what being lost at sea would be like?  You see waves and the perilous sea  but can't quite figure out where  the anchor is You go all in, only to realize  that the surface was way better  Expectations: proliferated  Hopes: dwindled  You did everything you could  yet success never ate  out of your palm Do they know all about  your relentless efforts, your time,  your ways ?  Do they ask about what it took to get where you are yet not being able to get where  you wanted to be?  You sing about unsung heroes  because you're one of them you always were you keep second guessing, thinking what they think of you what they know about you, about how they weigh you down  because you haven't done what they did It hurts to realize that  hardwork isn't always rewarding  but that doesn't mean you should stop working or dreaming about all  that you longed for. 

Colours - Art by Luro I drink colours that blow-up like fusillade  I smell sounds  that are dulcet  I dip myself in  all the lights  that retain their luminosity  - Luro

Themes are running on my mind  Should I hide the crime by obliterating the evidence?  Or should I delve into someone else's psyche by writing  psychological thrillers?  If history is fond of repeating itself, then I'd love to rewrite  and bend it the way I want because  historical fiction needs some warping too My fantasy stories would surely  have a lot of loopholes  because, what good is magic  without some fun? says the plot And no matter how many times  the characters try to plunge knifes  up their throats it would be hard to kill my darlings I'd love to tell their tales  on pages that we'd never get tired of reading, on pages that never get tired of being turned. we'd guess books by the spine  and scream which one of them  is our favourite. Deciding the timeline  when there's barely any time  and wondering if I should have gone with stream of consciousness  From exposition to denouement,  the pages bring themselves to the reader  it behoves the former to m

As days split into nights  We spent all of our time  counting money. counting friends. counting days.  The number of clothes, shoes, houses and fancy cars we own. The likes, followers and comments  we get on social media, the number of awards we've received or how much we earn. We kept looking at the numbers on our answer scripts after  breaking into a sweat,  wondering how we could  have done better.  Those moments of debilitating anxiety  when our eyes met the numbers  on weighing machines  and we would hate ourselves for  gaining or reducing weight.  Losing sleep over  the calories we did and didn't burn  The measuring tape surrounding  our waist became our prized possession as we would squeeze into our clothes. centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch we should have been a little taller a little shorter, we'd say to ourselves.  Those phases of getting  horrified by the sight of scars and marks  that run through our bodies, the pimples dancing on our faces  and the lines s

The Mind's been blaring - Luro The mind's been blaring up  can't stand the noise  but the thoughts it produces are  stuck in their doldrums So still in the stillness  So stagnant  like the water in love with the roads  water that's reluctant to dry up  after the rains  these thoughts have embraced  the lull  and have refused to take shape  refused to spring out  to create something big to discover their inner self  What a state of humdrum!  when inaction follows inaction  and the paper is still blank  the canvas is hungry for paint  and so is the palette  when books wait to be read  just so they could experience the joy on seeing the readers pucker their lips  at every plot twist with their invisible eyes.  -   Luro 

Words have failed me  I gaze at the screen The blankness stares back at me Trying to look for a meaning  beclouds the mind I had thoughts Plenty of thoughts  That were nipped in the bud  Thus, they never grew  Never had the chance to.  "What have you been thinking of?" they ask And instead of a reply, I asked  "How am I to know?"  The thoughts that were supposed to be born were killed  'Thoughticide', I'd call it The Thought police would know better  If having thoughts and opinions of your own is wrong  Then, what about the factors that control them?  Are they right?  And who is to judge?  What would you do  if you're only allowed to speak when someone puts words in your mouth?  Who does the talking?