In Conversation with a Friend (1)
(Written in the course of a WhatsApp chat on June 18, 2011, around 1:00 am.)
Sound blocks thought, and thought blocks action,
Action is life's painfullest fraction.
Silence weighs heavy like lead on a vein,
And veins, when cut, can cut the pain.
Much TV to be watched, much brain to be ground,
Much love to be missed, much pain to be found.
Much Maggi to be eaten, much alcohol to be drank,
Much life to be forgiven, much death to be thanked.
Much red in my eyes, much black in my thought,
Much redness and blackness to be valiantly fought.
Much red in my thought, much black in my eyes,
Much blackness and redness in swallowed cries.
So many words, and yet not enough,
Poetry's most blasphemous bluff.
So many words, most kind, some rough,
So much life, all taut, all tough.
So many things and so much stuff,
Death bleached off life's white cuff.
Risking a fall is for those on the mound.
What fall to risk for those underground?
As much can be hidden as can fit in the soul.
Even light can't escape a blackhole.
5 more bottles and a carton to go,
A future to shed and a past to grow.
A present to wither and a moment to die,
A forever to be and a never to lie.