An Ode to Time: Poem numero uno

Time the Ex Lover

I feel scorned by the stain that you left on my soul
Torn by your ticking hands that never let go
Keeping the rhythm by which I was told
"Minute by minute, you grow old"

I needed you to stop and give me more breath
But you kept on ticking right to my death
Steadily, calmly, mercilessly you led
Even when I screamed, and I cried, and I pled

I needed more of you, so much more of you
But never to be bound or summit, you flew
"Time flies" they said, and I always knew
That this was your only trait that was true

You couldn't be still, not even for my sake
You couldn't go back to correct my mistakes
You can't undo the minutes that you make
You can't give back the minutes that you take

My dear Time, you who keeps ticking on
You who separates dusk from dawn
I needed you, but now you're gone

A lover who's already moved on

✨Side of the Road✨

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Waiting by the side of the road

Watching the world pass ahead 

In search of an adventure to come

In search of stories I've read.

.

Have a thirst that goes beyond

Skin-deep love we've come to know. 

I've been called idealistic 

More times than I care to show.

.

But I chose to keep the fire alive 

For I've felt deep love on the side of the road. 

It's in the waiting, that all is revealed

The love and adventures which lie in our souls.

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In the waiting, is where we see

That there is no need for us to wait 

The whole world is within us

The path, itself, is our fate.

.

No need for a destination

For the one with a lightened heart

No false expectations made

When you're content where you are.

.

So come, sit down and share with me 

This still view of cars to pass

We can wait together, side by side

For as long as the waiting lasts.

.

Let's fall in love with this moment

Let the love selflessly explode 

Because the universe, believe it or not,

Lies right here, by the side of the road 💛

A Little Bit of Love

I want love to be the filter through which I see everything. I want love to be the path I walk on.  I want love to be the after-taste of this life. Life, a cuisine so intricately delicious, but only when it is sprinkled with love as its main spice, for without it, there is no taste.

          This is an understanding I have gotten to only very recently because, before now, I struggled with what love truly meant to me. Sometimes, I still struggle with it. The meanings or associations typically given to love, at least from what I see, are never the associations that I could relate to. Look at Valentine's Day, for instance. A day dedicated to love, and all people can think about is whether they will receive chocolates and flowers *insert deep eye roll* Also, it's suppose to be a whole day dedicated to all things love, yet most people seem to boil it down to only romantic relationships when there are so many other things in this world, and so many people to love. I judge the day, not for its desired sentiment, but because I think it makes a mockery of what love is. Most people recognize that it's just a hallmark holiday, even the ones that celebrate it, but do they recognize how much the day, itself, shows us that love has come to be understood as some kind of transaction, something to be given only when something else is received in return?

          To view love as a transaction is to poison its very essence. There is strength in the ability to give love to the world and expect nothing in return. There's a part of you that disagrees, and I know this, because that part exists in me too. However, I have come to learn that that part of us, which disagrees, is the part that is fragile, is the part that's afraid to get hurt, afraid to be taken advantage of, and, therefore, it cannot be the part of us that possesses strength, although it very much tries to convey otherwise. Real strength comes from the ability to accept the flow of life and the flow of people, with all of their ups and downs and unpredictability, and to love them anyway. I believe that love, in its truest form, has no opposite. It's this type of love that I wish to feel, not only for a person, but for all people, for moments, for life. I wish to feel the type of love that connects me with everything and everyone. I may sound like a naive dreamer who is living up in the clouds, but I've had momentary experiences when I've had a taste of it. I know it's there, and I know it's possible, and I know that it's the best feeling that anyone can ever have because it feels like home.

       

Conversation With Myself

Looks like you want a bit of a shake

Someone to tell you your mistakes

But what if I told you that you already know

Exactly where you're meant to grow

Cuz no one's gonna come and save you

You gotta pick up the pieces and mend your own bruise

The way I see it is that people walk side by side

Trying to become better by lowering their pride

No one can do it for another cuz that's the game

And when shit gets tough, there's no one to blame

The answers to your problems are already there

Not hidden in a single person, but out and bare

You don't need to manipulate, just open your eyes

It's so much simpler than any of us realize

Love is the beauty in all of the chaos

And it lies in every single one of us

When you can find that love within yourself

You don't need it from anybody else

It no longer becomes a type of currency

To divide and exchange and share "fairly"

But an unconditional fountain of light

A never ending flow that shines out with might

Given to anyone who crosses your path

Whether their presence does or doesn't last

Because it will no longer be given to be returned

Love's all around, the choice is yours to be burned

So the question is: will you open your heart

And lower your pride

Let the light seep deep inside?

Anxiety, My Lover

Anxiety comes to me in shortness of breath, as I find myself gasping for air [that is polluted with lost dreams and hopes.]

He comes to me with a sudden rapid beating in my chest, and for a moment I lose myself [as I feel the walls caving in on my heart, squeezing it for every last bit of light it has left.]

He, the lover that has been with me for so long. 

He, who has gazed into my tired eyes and [selfishly] said “I will always be there.” 

He, who has caused my fingers to shake.

He, who has taught me the meaning of peace [only in his absence.]

He turns my excited butterflies into blind bats slamming against walls because they need to escape. 

And I invite him back every time because I can’t let go. I’m anxious without my lover, Anxiety. Who am I without him? 

He who comes to me when I’m at my loneliest, but at least he comes to me. 

By: Banafshé Eshragi

Sunless Sunny Days

I miss you in the sunniest of days

For your face is reflected in the light

And each time makes my heart sink

To think, to this view, you are blind

How cold your bed must be

And your company, the icy stones

Statues that have guarded the gates

To make sure that no one comes or goes..

I admit that at times I envy you

 So still, quiet and uninterrupted

Forever in your bed of soil

Decaying in body, but in mind not corrupted

And yet, I do wish we could both

Together, breathe in this breathtaking view

But with you breathless, and me, alone

Instead I am reminded of you

Forever in your stagnant condition

Stuck in the dead of winter's tear

Unable to share this warmth with me

Unable to see that spring is near

The earth is transformed once again

With splashes of colour hit by sun rays

But the beauty of it all passes me by

For I miss you the most in the sunniest of days

The Mind is a Tyrant (incomplete)

This mind of mine torments me, for what it finds to be of importance, my heart wants to forget. The heart longs to be set free, but it is weighed down by images that present themselves with no empathy, sounds that echo continuously, smells that present the images once more. Bombarded with a past that the heart longs to forget, for the heart cannot see, hear or smell. Nor can it touch, yet it can be touched. It does not store the past, but can only do so with the help of the tortuous mind.

Imagine a heart on its own. How free it would be, if it could be in the moment; if it could love and forget all the love it has lost? To have the memory of a goldfish in a tank. Everything would be something to explore once again. What do our experiences really teach us when they differ every time they occur, when the core of who we are remains the same? We learn to carry the emotional baggage but seldom really change ourselves. Yes the mind loves to play mind games and as it is masochistic, it is its own number one victim, and the heart, its second.