grief
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When nothing is enough
Trigger warning: This poem, though fictional deals with severe depression, suicide, grief. I visited you in the hospital yesterday. You’d survived your second attempt, much more gruesome than the first. People from church who never asked you how you were gathered around you like a shoal of bream around a diver. Praying and holding your… Continue reading
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Swansong
When we were together all those years ago, staring at a grainy TV screen, but thinking we were watching a cinematic tour de force, atmospheric and beautiful, you had your visions of who you wanted me to be — a witty, loquacious knight in shining armour with a Rabelaisian… Continue reading
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Time and providence
But all the while I sit and thinkOf times there were beforeI listen for returning feet And voices at the door ― J.R.R. Tolkien I often asked myself why I was here on a lonely planet, confined by time and providence, I watched people undergo spiritual metamorphoses, transforming into beings of the light — blue aureoles framing their… Continue reading
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Rain
Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet. – Roger Miller I’m sitting on my balcony in a pensive mood, the rain augmenting recollection that’s usually half-baked these days, nebulous like the swirling greys in a paperweight, I don’t have a pluviophile’s tranquility, all I have is an ache that longs to find… Continue reading
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Men of perdition
The clip found its way to YouTube, and my friends in college showed it to others on their phones as if it were a video of a back-heel nutmeg by Ronaldinho. I was guilty too, simply because I shared in the excitement. Many years later, it haunted me. He knelt, reading out something they’d forced… Continue reading
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For Alisha
Walking past these headstones, in this churchyard, I kneel, look back at the little Presbyterian prayer hall you used to frequent, pristine white, with blue-cushioned pews, its simple beige altar, grey steeple, little cross, and a miasma of nostalgia seems rise from the architecture, slowly creeping towards me, the twilight complementing it. I read your… Continue reading
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A rondeau for the ostracised
Find me outside the temple gates on littered streets Where beggars roam and hawkers sell their rancid meats Where lepers and malingerers don’t have a chance At ever swaying to the beat of Triumph’s dance Where you’ll find rickety, old huts with threadbare sheets. Here succubi know men, and the unclean beast eats Here thrones… Continue reading
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If life has meaning
If life has meaning, then do tell me what it is – Do whispers of distress become a din of ache Or do we wait in sorrow for unending bliss? I’ve walked beside these broken tracks, I’ve heard the hiss Of rusty trains. I’ve attended regret’s long wake If life has meaning, then do tell… Continue reading
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Coming home to you
I remember you composing music to the poems I wrote, infusing them with more emotion and turning red droplets to crimson stains of expression, you sat blissfully calm and while you drifted with time, your hands gracefully sliding across the piano, each quaver, crotchet and minim merging with my iambs, anapaests and trochees, I forgot… Continue reading
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Fade
When I met you, looked deep into those black, velvety eyes, I knew I’d found my muse, a Blue jay: ashen, muted grief, steel-blue quietude and a mosaic brilliance concealed except when you glided on wings of poetry, the Cherry Blossom tunnel I walked through all those years, stooped, no longer seemed dreary, and as… Continue reading
About Me
Ordinary Person is a guy who likes to write. He writes fiction, essays, poems and other stuff.
Ordinary Person 