Poems
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Life and yada yada
Once dawn broke through with her lucent wings, soaring down like a phoenix, bringing with her fierce reckoning and shaking off hebetude — the sins of your foes avenged by the flick of the wrist, the tossing aside of the bed sheet, the morning run, breakfast at 7, and a need to be somebody everybody… Continue reading
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Say something clichéd
Say something clichéd like those three overused words, the crux of RomComs and evocative drama movies, detailing how Jack endured it all — the fire and the crimson droplets to find Jane, trudging through snow and madness. No one has ever said them to me without a hint of hypocrisy: an askew semblance of jade,… Continue reading
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Love and reprobation
Meet me where the earth cracks and a dying stream breathes its last, where the ashen peaks lose their charm and look tobacco stained, where the asphyxiated grass choked by some sadistic, otherworldly force gasps and wheezes, where love meets reprobation and we’re broken, neglected sinners in the hands of a silent sovereign, because when… Continue reading
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Lucidity
Have I told you that you’re the clearest thought that settles somewhere in the back of a shadowed mind, and gently, inch by inch, lights it up, until I’m smiling again though my eyes are bloodshot and I’m staring like someone catatonic, looking through the phases of my life? You may not notice the smile,… Continue reading
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Withered
After we made love the other night, I looked at you, lying naked, silhouetted against the moonlight that crept into our apartment like a voyeur. I let my fingers trace the outline of your body—the curves and the arched back, speaking a language of fiery oranges and whispered reds. I then looked at the surrounding… Continue reading
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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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Post-Valentine’s Day Sonnet (with audio recording)
I think I’m letting go of the unsettling past with every tick and tock of the old clock, with each sweet, precious moment spent with you. I’m holding fast to rhythms, patterns, and things I’d deemed out of reach; songs, sequences, and echoes promising much more than dying haunts — the yellowing grass and spoilt… Continue reading
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A very Freudian poem
My old man’s castrating me today. I know it. I can feel it in my balls. The anxiety like unsettling waves of darkness making me cower and hide. Peekaboo, he says with a lopsided grin, and I want to tell him I don’t see mother that way, despite what the mad theorist says. There’s no… Continue reading
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A not so pleasant drive
I’m trapped in my old sedan. It’s like the Sicilian Bull, the fires roasting me, and in agony, I pound the steering wheel and press the horn, though the hairpin bends as sharp as scythes stay deserted, except for the hard rain, the water like blood sluicing, the wipers like metal claws scraping the glass… Continue reading
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One can hope
My anger has cost me like a dirge of annihilation sweeping across a coastal town with its multihued tiny houses, blackwashing them until beauty sets her sights yonder, alighting on distant plains, and I’m ~dancing on my own~ hoping one day I’ll fight these demons, beat them with a song of triumph — a crescendo… Continue reading
About Me
Ordinary Person is a guy who likes to write. He writes fiction, essays, poems and other stuff.
Ordinary Person 