Feline Fantasy

No silver anklets, thank you!
I don't need those pointy stilettos either
To announce my arrival, or the music
Around my being alive.

Tell me more about you, or let's
Just talk about the weather
Don't ask me where I am going
Because I may not know, or worse
I may be heading where
Where you don't usually let your thoughts go!

After a while, even judgment loses its edge
And talking about choices
Turns into one of those futile
Social see-saws, which you put me on,
To feel good about yourself

The key to feeling great is to live
Like a cat; jumping off balconies,
Squeezing through gaps, using
Flexible ribs and whiskers
Accomplishing great kills
(Rats, squirrels, pigeons)
Without a single, audible, footfall.

Release

Feelings can sometimes be abandoned

Just like getting out of a pair

Of really tight jeans, at the end of the day.

And crawling into the soothing softness

Of a well-made bed. 

Not thinking about tomorrow 

Not thinking about today

Just taking a break before

You have to get back into

The same pair of pants. 

Next morning, renewed, you're ready

To confront them

To accept them

To analyze them

To ignore them

To deny them

To change them

Whatever. 

It's nice to not just have them on,

Right now. 

Poet Killers

The happy purr of a broken fridge
That keeps a background score
To the orchestra of other broken things
A stressed pressure cooker, and more

Time killed at the hands of clocks
As alarms and cell phone reminders sing,
Seconds, minutes and hours spent
In making a respectable living

A stable baseline, with a whiny pump
Not loud enough to be annoying
Happiness as absence of angst
Where everything seems, just fine.

Love Letters

Why do your feelings speak so much better
One year later?

After the last box has been shipped, with my
Flower vase, uncompromisingly chipped.

My mailbox carefully organized, to skip
Even an accidental memory trip

When finally the joy of facing my fears,
Trumps the reasons for recurring tears

After I have carefully rewritten our past,
Using only the reasons that made it not last

What is the point, now, of telling me
That I make such a beautiful memory?

Is it because, now it can be said, with openness
Without your being committed to my happiness?

Mindfulness

It so happens at some point,
That we find ourselves enmeshed,
In someone else's irrevocable past,
Or its careful reconstruction, with all the moments,
That we chose to leave out of our version.
Or carefully strewn into someone's future
Fulfilling roles we were never meant to play
Someone's calculation, or manipulation
Someone's broken image of a best friend
Someone's angry and helpless  remorse
Someone's regret, someone's idea of betrayal
Constantly balancing on logic, that works on both sides

All of this, carefully covered under the hood
Of moving on; seemingly, towards future
Trying to act genuinely interested,
When secretly thinking of chocolate toast
Zooming in and out of Venn diagrams
Of social circles; getting the pleasure
Of being rolling stone, a thing-doer

Sometimes, all this buzzing is exhausting
The same circles of friendships and falling in love
Of self-evaluation and actualization; of all this noise
Going back and forth between absent pasts and futures

But it also happens to be,
That at this very moment, right here,
All of us are absolutely free.

Contamination

It isn't fair that there is a little passage
That connects reason and feelings
Sometimes, thoughts cross over
To the other side before you can capture them
Then they come back contaminated
With an unnecessary sense of purpose
And sometimes, feelings ooze
Into the other room, and come back
Rationalized and diffused

Shrinks spoil a good irrational depression
By linking it methodically to fathers (or mothers)
Reviewers dampen the claim to fame
By pointing a finger at error bars
Global warming interferes with long drives
And love, becomes a (reversible) neurobiochemical reaction

How exhausting it is to know
That every single decision is going to be sound
In retrospect. 

Moving (on)

Nothing fits in my new house 

Everything was custom made for the old space

The table, the couch, the bed

The curtains and the lamp shade

All of them scream salvation

But I insist on remixing them, in the new place

It's not too bad actually. I repainted the ugly bits

Changed the sequence and the mood

Threw in a little gypsy on the librarian

And then I was quite proud

Of refitting my dreams to this new present

I don't have to start over, entirely. 

I could at least build on my mistakes? 

(That asymmetric flower vase?)

But then there comes a thirsty night

And the walk from the bed to the fridge

Brings about this traumatic collision 

Of a knee and a table from the past..

Blue-green bruises, beckon more than chilled water,

Ice packs, in the middle of the night

That one moment is enough for a complete meltdown. 

Proof by elimination

Sudden clarity is so confusing
You shake it to see
If it is denial
You shine light wondering,
If it is defeat in a hoodie
Scan it to verify if
It is confusion on a break
Discuss it to find cracks
Test it on the tear point
Resulting in bewilderment
Revisit the times when you felt
Oppressed by confusion and fear
Wasn't this the time in your future then
That is now turning into you clear present
The scariest bit of your past?
And then just like that
By using elimination
We prove, that this is clarity.

Shoe bites

I was a victim of terrible shoe bites
For a long span of time, which seemed like eternity then,
To my tired, woebegone feet
My big toes squished and the little ones inflamed
I walked around gingerly, to avoid all conflict
Between the shoe and its unfortunate contents

I just bought them, for almost two hundred dollars,
I would say to myself,
I am sure, my feet are going to get used to being in them
But rainbows and unicorns would flash in front of my eyes
Every time I took them off.

I would cross my ankles pretty, and stare at the grass
Outside the glass window
And fantasize about walking barefoot on it
Or the next best thing -- flat sneakers
I would spend a lot of time, from my life back then
Wondering what would happen if I really
Revolt against these persistent shoe bites

But they looked good on me, they made me look taller
They tightened my calves and my self esteem
They were well received, even applauded, socially
And women who wore them in pictures, looked very happy
All this being said, they were devouring my feet (and my happiness)

One Saturday, I woke up and stepped out barefoot
On the grass outside.
Then I called the nice lady at the nail spa
And took my feet for a relaxing pedicure
Lavender, mint and chocolate butter
Tenderly soaked all the blisters and abrasions
I covered the wounds with mickey mouse band aids
And bought the softest pair of socks and sneakers.

I came home and saw the monsters on the shoe rack
I could sense my big toes choking up
With the burden of the upcoming Monday morning..
I picked them up and threw them out.
Because, none of my worldly rationalizing
Was worth spending all my life,
Enduring those happiness destroying shoe bites.