Short poems

The “happy” hue

Yellow is never a happy color,
At least for me it is not.
It looks too pretentious
As if it’s trying so hard not to be blue.

It’s not surprising if one day,
Yellow stops being yellow.
And most would ask when
it started feeling mellow.

Yellow is not equivalent to happy,
no color should bear that task.
Gray or black or green or violet
And any other hue that comes to mind
can mean happiness
even every once in a while.

So yellow, be free to feel
For you were never meant to color
just the sun.


Blessed be…

Blessed be the easily hurt, 

for a simple word or action

can pierce their heart. 

An arrow,

not aimed at anybody 

can go straight in between their eyes.

Blessed be the easily hurt, 

for they will be hiding their tears-

like how one hides an illicit affair-

in the dark, 

and with cowering fear of being caught. 

Blessed be the easily hurt, 

for not everyone will understand 

the frailties of their heart. 

Blessed be the easily hurt, 

for their own minds can be their foe. 

Clawing and shaming them 

for feeling their truest emotions. 

Blessed be the easily hurt, 

for they are fighting a hidden war, 

may it be real or not to others. 

Blessed be the easily hurt, 

for their greatest weakness 

is also their strength. 

By welcoming hundreds of blows in their chest, 

every single day, 

each time a little harder than the first, 

they become more compassionate. 

Blessed be the easily hurt, 

for there will be more aches to come. 

My latest attempt  in wooing you (Yes, you!)

No words can ever explain

how you changed my life

but this is my feeble attempt at trying-

and try I will.

Oh, and this will be pretty long.

It is like waking up one day 

and realizing why you’re where you are. 

And oh, finally feeling, 

after years of muted emotions. 

You made me feel again, 

and by that I mean everything – 

excitement, anger, resentment, glee, jealousy, longing

and everything in between.

I am scared of the vastness of the ocean,

but with you I no longer am. 

Come to think of it, 

at least I would not drown alone, 

you are also a terrible swimmer love.

Kidding aside, 

I realized, I am already drowning – 

gasping for air as I fall deeper into you.

I can easily say, 

it is the best way of drowning, 

And I surrender, 

and boy, was it the sweetest defeat.

I know now 

relationships are complicated. 

What works for others, 

may not work with us. 

Hear, hear!

I am willing to make sloppy mistakes.

I am ready to mix and match solutions 

to our bizarre and mostly petty problems. 

If you have never believed you are beautiful, 

well believe it now. 

For I am no liar and I don’t have time 

for empty praises. 

Here it goes: 

No one is as beautiful as you. 


you are not flawless,

You are queer and sensitive

You are oblivious to a point it hurts. 

But I wouldn’t trade you for the world. 

I dare not leave you for these flaws. 

I apologize, 

but my love for you is bigger than that.

Look here, I say to you

I am not perfect and so are you –  

but our flaws match each other

and that makes us the perfect ensemble. 

I told you this is a feeble attempt

for no words can properly describe 

how a person can change your life

without downplaying it – 

just like how we photograph sunsets,

and capture its downgraded beauty

and still be proud of it 

(hence me publishing this)

But still, I will continue

please bear with me, 

a few more phrases and this will be over. 

I just want to emphasize a point.

Please, please know that when I look at you

I see past your boyish smile and serious eyes. 

I see you as my lifetime partner, 

my bestfriend, 

the other end to my red string of fate – 

all mixed into your figure. 

I must say, 

that was a pretty good blending. 

In this part, 

I will say 

a relatively comon phrase with lovers: 

I love you

and here comes a direct translation of a subconsious thought whenever I say it: 

“I may not say it as much as you do, 

but remember, 

as long as I am with you, 

know that I truly, honestly do.”

Good riddance

Leaving that place was easy.

Almost as natural as a leaf

falling down to the ground,

as predictable as sunset

in each ending day.

I looked forward

to the day when I would walk out the door,

for good and never to return once more.

Alas, I was free!

So long to the chair I have sat on

for months-

only it felt like decades.

No more shackling keyboard

and eye-tearing monitor.

No more wasting my time,

with pointless and mundane tasks.

I don’t need the money,

No thanks, please keep it.

I need a purpose,

one that I would be proud of-

and I will never find it there

in a closed room with white walls.

A little too much

And because her love for him was too big

an understatement of uncontrollable,

her love for him shied away from reason or logic-

she failed to see

she was destroying him.

She was unaware that-

her hugs were too tight

her kisses too fierce,

she left him with a broken rib or two.

Her love was sprawled all over him

she thought it was endearing-

but he was drowning

and beyond saving from it all.

Only time can tell,

which of them

would be destroyed first.

Pity those

Pity those who have unknowingly housed

a monster inside their heads—

for they will never find

solace in their own company.

Pity those whose thoughts dare not wander

on uncharted meadows and unexplored lands—

for they will fail to see past

the monotonous place we call “everyday life”.

Pity those who have chosen to conceal

their emotions in the corners of their hearts—

for they will fail to encounter

the endless possibilities of one hello.

Pity those who cannot put into words

what they hear so loudly in their hearts—

for they will be burning bridges

with a fire of their own making.

Morning stroll

The time I seldom experience,

is just when the sun has fully climbed back up its glorious space.

Lately, it’s hard to get a glimpse of it-

Much more so to indulge in it.

So I walked slowly,
And let the tingling warmth touch my cold face.

Hoping, ever so slightly,

the distance I walk in,

to stretch on and on.

Leaving this time here,

a personal loop-

one that I wouldn’t mind to be lost in.


Only then

It was only then

that I understood-

how people who dislike noise,

replace solitude

with loud music and useless toys.

It was only then

that I was able to hear-

the softest cry from a misplaced smile,

the reckless yell from a set of careful lips,

in a place you never expect them to be found.

It was only then

that I was able to see-

the world with a hazy view,

from a pair of eyes who refuse

to let a single tear fall.

It was only then

that I understood-

how pain feels like.

Not me

No, you do not love me. 

You love the idea of me. 

Unfortunately, this idea of who I am

Is a poorly guessed one. 

And it will stay as that-

A figment of your imagination, 

A by-product of your assumptions.

I am not a fantasy,

I am painstakingly real.

Too bad, it’s not what you wanted. 

I am not always happy,

Nor reasonable and logical. 

I am a dreamer, 

And is therefore, always disappointed. 

So you see, 

A person cannot simply be painted black and white

He is a multitude of colors, 

A canvass that is continuously worked on. 

And every single day, 

I will continue to disappoint you

With what I say and do. 

And slowly, you too, will see

You only loved an imaginary person

But not me.