Backtracking #6

Backtracking #5: his love

his love is like the wave
of the sea
never ending
moving with the wind

his heartbeat is the wave
and his love, the sea
boundless, serene

his love is like the wave
crashing upon her shore
returning
to a lover's embrace.

Backtracking #4

I
We live in a world where love
Is counted on machines
And credited on plastic
Where human lives are measured
By bullets through their hearts
And the tears their children cried—

I.i
Where parents bury their sons;
Their temples kissed by guns
Where mothers smile in pain
And lovers cry in vain
Where one man’s dream
Spells death for thousands others
Poverty for another million
And orphanage for countless children
Where in glutton and greed we exist
Forgetting compassion, love, mercy.

II
Let us run from this city
Where love is a blasphemy
Let us go where our hearts lead
Where we’ll find ourselves freed
Where the sunlight falls through our windows
And nothing is obscured by the shadows
Where we can live out today
Say goodbye to yesterday
And eagerly awaits tomorrow
Where we smile for joy, not in pain
And cry for sorrow, not in vain
Where dulled spirits flourish anew
And in hope we grow, both me and you.

Backtracking #3: Lovecolours

To her,
The colour of love is painted red
Like flaming fire,
Or caressing velvet

To him,
The colour of love would be gold
That reflected the sun, the moon
Precious and beautiful to behold

For me,
My love is coloured
By many hues;
Red like velvet, or fiery flame
Green like fresh leaves;
Bruising purple, a mark—
And magenta like Apollo descending
His blue throne in the sky
And cotton white,
And yellow like
The pot of gold
At the feet of a rainbow.

Backtracking #2

These idle, unmoving days---
Stay now.
These days when the sun yawned from the foothills
I stay lying down in my bed
Between the four cool walls of my room.
These days when the sun rays peeked through the window blinds
I sigh and shut the blades tight.
These days are made for sleeping late;
And waking even later.
These days are for staying in bed well past noon;
These days are for dreaming, writing, waiting
And longing for the moon
(But never touch it, no).
These days are for anticipating nightfall
When the stars would come dusting
The black blanketed universe with glitter
(And then the moon will come)
I shall lift the blinds and open my windows wide---
Untangle my limbs and fly
Embracing the night sky.

Backtracking #1: Because my love is like a red, red rose

Because my love is like a red, red rose
It wilted
Two or three days after
I bought it from an old lady across the street

The green leaves turn yellow
And fell
Like autumn leaves
In the middle of my room
And the petals
Dried up
And crumbled
To dust.

Because my love is like a red, red rose
It was never meant to last
Like every other thing
In this damned world.