These pigeons

 

the pigeons here, they aren’t afraid
of the feet that walk past them
on this grey street,
they are aware of our stories
the places we go and the faces we meet
they are aware of the soggy tissues
that fall above, from the balconies
they are aware of the life and stories
that live in those used tissues – they examine it,
a tissue for a moment in the past,
they think, I believe, they know and hear the emotions in those tissues that dry and travel around in these streets,
they know the secrets and seen faces, that even our close ones, could not
and so
I don’t mind the falling objects
I don’t mind the speeding cars
I don’t mind the distant face
that caused these distant scars

these pigeons, they see us from afar
they know my heart, they know your heart

-Kaya

Advertisements

The sea is in me

I wanted to be
I wanted to feel
I wanted to see
things as vast as a sea
in my pursuit- I lost myself
in this vast sea
I cannot see myself
find, or even be myself
deep down in this deep sea
i have lost myself to what i wanted
i could not see
i could not feel
i could not be
I have dissolved into these monstrous blues
I have become bait to these monstrous blues
I have become part of this deep sea
that i have always dreamt of- and now
I am afraid, I am not who i am
who am i, I asked again
In these million waves
the sea is in me
salt in my blood and bones
i am lost in myself- i have drowned
in this voyage of life

-Kaya

sharp contrast

dear red on pale white,
a letter to you, I write
in immense red fright
I fear, red on pale white
It is because of you
I cannot sleep at night
you promised that
you would not bite
but what is left of me?
I cannot see anything
there is nothing in my sight
but a mouth, that keeps begging
the dear red on pale white
I write to you again,
dear red on pale-

‘this is your last night’
said the red on pale white

-Kaya