this one’s for you

—–

these are the voices that rise
that come in on a tide
on top a wave
to make you cave
under the pressing weight
of your absurdities
can you hear
the voices that rise?

these are the voices that listen
even against the ticking clock
they sit down and talk
but when time runs out
they stand up and shout
when will you listen
and stop ignoring
the voices that rise?

it comes as no shock nor surprise
your attempts to criminalize dissent
your minds bent
upon keeping at bay
thoughts that resent
your illusions of progress.
this, reflected on the faces
of the cops that you rent
meant
to keep silent
the voices that rise.

lord knows it’s a shame
when you can’t hold fort
you run for the courts
manufacturing lies
that ruin lives
to serve the few
you bend what’s true
so fuck you
as you try and subdue
the voices that rise.

i was trying not to, but you brought it up

though the weatherman said
there would be no cool breeze,
it came and it came indeed,
as if God kissed calmness
into the wind.

lightning flashes and thunder roars
the sights i see but the sounds miss me
i know that i can bear my silences
but i cannot bear my loneliness

they always had issues
trying to communicate
she was always punctual
but he was always late

she wanted to talk flowers
but he always thought rockets
she told him to get a life
he got her a box of chocolates

that’s a vicious cycle, we should just buy a car

dor se jo dikti hai, woh choti si khwahish hai
mujh pe jo barasti hai, woh paani ki baarish hai

boondoon ke tapakne mei, yaadoon ka barasna hai
khoye hai khayaaloon mei, ab khudko sambhalna hai

intezaar mei baithain hai, kuch mushkil se guzarna hai
dum se khadum lete hai, apni manzil se milna hai

dheere se jo aati hai, woh choti si khwahish hai
chuke jo guzarjati hai, woh paani ki baarish hai

i must die to dream
and live to do
but if i don’t dream
i have nothing to do

magic is the music, that
even in silence
your eyes can see

there are those who shout
the spoken word
i’d rather whisper my poetry

it’s like i just left ‘what could have been’ and haven’t gotten to ‘what could be’. it’s like i’m in purgatory.