Siblings, games and poetry.

Siblings, games and poetry.

This poem came out of bits and scraps that lay in my head. I cannot tell if it makes sense but maybe you can. Either way, I believe in every word I’ve written in this poem. They’re pieces of me, after all. I hope you like the poem! Do tell me in the comments section below. Enjoy and keep smiling 🙂

My sister believed that life is
like a buzz wire game.

Continue reading Siblings, games and poetry.

Strangers with Pizza boxes.

Strangers with Pizza boxes.

I hope you like this. Read, comment, enjoy, and smile! 🙂

If you look carefully
when walking on a busy street,
you’ll see rainbow kite strings around the neck
of every stranger.
Tales of broken reds,
ribbons of blue,
poems of brown eyes,
micro-tales of turquoise skies
and a thousand more colorful stories.
But only if you look carefully.
If you do not,
they’ll just be flesh and blood
and you’ll remain flesh and blood too.
Of course, eyes won’t do all the talking,
but do let them start
and then your lips can bring the stories to life.

I’ve tried.
That’s how the Pizza boy became my best-friend.
Pizza one,
he was just a man in red
with a beautiful smile.
Pizza two,
I saw his eyes
and the wrinkled galaxies his smile caused.
I saw how his shirt was half-tucked in,
very similar to mine
and he had sports shoes on.
Pizza three,
He told me his favorite sport
and I told him I wrote poetry.
Together, we gave football a human story.
The ball that was of no man
and no fields.
The ball that fell in love with the net.
Together, we laughed at the horrible story.

I guess you get the idea.
See, look, converse, connect.

Instagram: @myspirals
Previous post : Life update: two

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Why should I man up?

Why should I man up?

I guess this needed to be addressed, too. It’s super important to realize that men can be men and still do anything human. Women can be women and still be human. Here’s what I want from you today. Smile and love yourself and others a little. Okay? I hope you like this poem. Do comment.

“Man up”
She said.
And so I put down the picture of my dead mother,
stopped crying, trembling, shaking
and smiled.
My eyes were still wet,
And all I could think about was if she had really just asked me,
to man up?
“Boys don’t cry.”
Of course, we do.
We have our heart broken,
We have our trust burnt in flames,
And we live every day just like you do.
We cry.
“Don’t be such a pussy”
If protecting innocent kids from being bullied,
having phobias and doubts,
Talking to a girl when she feels low,
Not passing mean comments with my friends,
And actually liking a girl
Is being a pussy,
Then I will be one.
“Boys will be boys”
Not all of us will break your hearts,
Haven’t you ever spoken to the shy one?
We respect you,
I respect you.
Not all of us will break your trust,
or text you just to flirt.
We need friends too.

These things
make us human.

Instagram: @myspirals
Previous post : 60 and in love.

Give me prompts in the comment section below and share if you liked this! (And yes, if you read enough posts on this blog, you’ll come across one exactly like this. I had to repost this because it’s important and there are so many new readers now)

60 and in love.

60 and in love.

A dialogue/story-telling piece. I hope you like it! Give me prompts or tell me if you liked this or share your love story in the comments section! I’m looking forward to it. I hope you enjoy reading this! 🙂

“What does it feel like to be 60 and in love?”

“Routine and magical. We’ve only been together since I turned twenty-eight but I could swear even a day with him feels like a forever. You know how everyone wants a forever? He gave me forevers. Plural. I don’t know why I’m an English professor :P. When we went on our first date, he told me he was obsessed with Christmas, hot chocolate and love. On our fifth date, I found out why. Three more dates later, we had hot chocolate from the same cup. Thirty-two years later, we are madly in love. It’s very similar to what reading your favorite book for the fifth time feels like: you know all of the story and you know almost every word, but the ‘almost’ always means there are surprises.

Once, he wrote me a letter while we lived in the same house. It was addressed “to my nutty Belgian dark chocolate ice cream”. He posted it, and waited for it to come back. Throughout the letter, he spoke about me as if I was his favorite ice cream, his knight in shining armor, and his favorite season.

I try to think of a time when we weren’t together but I never can. That makes me very glad. I know I lived twenty-eight years without him but every time I think of some childhood memory, he’s always there in the frame. Hiding behind curtains for every time I think of home and sitting in cup holders for my family long drives. I think it’s because I’ve told him the story so many times that it no longer is only mine. Together, we’ve lived 120 years worth of memories and we know what every one of those felt like: like nutty Belgian dark chocolate ice cream. In other words, every memory, together or not, was yum. I should not be an English professor.”

“That sounds amazing. What do you need me for, then?”

“I’m 60. My forever can end any day. Who do you go to when you’re scared if not to a therapist?”

Previous post: It is okay.
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Give me prompts in the comment section. Also, tell me if you like the huge capital first letter.

It is okay.

It is okay.

You can call this part two of Travel Bird if you want to. In both, we’ve only discussed how you should live. In this particular post, I wanted to talk about so many things we stop ourselves from doing for the weirdest reasons. Don’t stop yourself. Enjoy! And comment, a lot.

Go ahead.
Stand taller than everyone else,
Fall apart.
Feel afraid, or
Among smiles of
Chapped lips
And wrinkled eyes.
Speak out
Tell us what’s right,
Share your dreams
Nightmares, or
stories of your petty fights.
Praise every other heart that still beats,
And love the music
Pumping through your veins,
Just like it is,
Through every one else’s.
Let your hands fumble on the knob,
And your heart break.
Feel dead,
And then come back to life.
Be happy at times.
And at times don’t be afraid
to drown.
Do it all, love.
It is okay.

Previous post: Something about Naomi
Instagram: @myspirals

Give me prompts in the comment section. Also, tell me if you like the huge capital first letter.