#poeticstateofmind
Found amazing Spoken Word content on Spotify that I decided to make a playlist for it. Give it some love and appreciation.
I’ve never found sunsets to associate with hope, if anything they are the most depressing of the things.
The best love stories are the ones which lasts enough for you to love and find yourself and ironically they are also the worst.
The night I realised I needed therapy
It was 2 in the night, and I was watching
a reaction video on my phone. It was 2
in the night, so I let my mind go and let
it roam freely wherever it wanted to. It
had been on the leash the entire morning.
It was 2 in the night and I didn’t anticipate
what might happen.
I remember distinctly that I was breathing
fine. I was breathing fine, a moment and
the other I was racing along with my
thoughts. It wasn’t too late, and my body
started racing around my room too. It was
2 in the night, so I decided to not wake
people up. People, what people? I’m alone.
Sometimes I wish to sleep this feeling away,
but if I sleep now, I’ll be caged in my mind
where my sleep demon awaits my arrival,
and I am not ready for that rendezvous.
Hence, I’m awake. Trying to breathe, trying
to sleep, failing at both.
I clearly remember, meeting him, them,
when I briefly closed my eyes. It happens,
not a lot but in the night, when it’s 2, that’s
the only thing that my brain does. When I see
them, I don’t see colors, I don’t hear their
voice, I see them and I see myself through
them.
When I look at myself, through them, I see a
sack of blood and flesh, lying on the bed,
Immobile and frozen. I see a pathetic body
not even trying to fight it, using the 21
seconds rule as an escape to not move. It’s
almost as if she wants to stay in this state
forever.
When I see myself looking at me, I feel
frantic. I hate myself at that moment, but I
can’t, I just can’t move. I know if I stood up
right now, I’ll fight it. I’ll fight with everything,
I’ll run away, and I’ll be gone and if I lay there
all night, without moving, my judgement
would stare me down and leave me in my
misery.
They are getting closer with each thought
that chokes me. I want to break the barrier
and just hide in the bathroom. Why am I
resisting this? They are here, reaching out
to me and there’s nothing more for me to do
than join them and live in this vulnerability.
ज़िन्दगी का फलसफा भी कितना अजीब है शामें कटती नहीं और साल गुज़रते चले जा रहे है.
-पीयूष मिश्रा
Translation -
How strange is the philosophy of life, the evenings do not end and the years are passing by.
- Piyush Mishra
25. Anxiety
One moment you are sitting still,
the other you’re not. The worst
moment for anxiety to hit is
probably when you least expect
it. Can you expect it though? It
waits for you to be weak, or to
be your happiest self. It strikes
when you feel nothing and then
your whole world comes collapsing.
Anxiety, holds you hostage in your
own body. Sucks your soul and
keeps it that way, lifeless and
unattended. It’s the feeling of heat
in an air-conditioned room, the dip
in your heart while taking a dump,
the paralyses induced when you
hear about that one trigger that you
just discovered is triggering.
ANXIETY, the word is enough to
render you inactive, perplexed,
agitated, sad, and all the other
emotions you can’t name. This
blank document writing itself
and bringing within it the anxious
scrolling while the heart still dips
and beats in tones not understood
by me.
24. A paranoid hate poem
The walls piercing through their plaster,
as if watching me, mocking me, there
are four. I’m locked in a room and my
demons are feeding on my mind. The
bed shakes sometimes, and sometimes
it refuses to move, it holds me close
and screams that it’ll never let me go.
I’m locked in a room and my demons are
feeding on my mind. My bookshelf sits
there, waiting for me to run my fingers
through it like I used to, but I don’t have
that childlike enthusiasm left in me like
I had in November. I’m locked in a room
with my demons who never let me sleep.
I’m locked in this room with my demons,
and they are feeding on my soul. I’m
locked in this godforsaken room, seeking
an out and these demons are sucking the
life out of me. I’m locked in this room
awaiting my sweet release.
I know it’s a difficult time and a difficult world that we are living in. I hope you haven’t lost your hope. I won’t say that it will get better because I don’t know if it will but I’m certain that we can live this through, one day at a time. I hope you all the power and strength.
Love and prayers your way.
23. PSA
Breathe in……..
..2
..1
……..Breathe out
..4
..3
..2
..1
Repeat
22. To whomsoever it may concern
Can you breathe?
The air passing you by, the
moments too. The undesired
quest of knowing and not
knowing. The inability to rest.
Can you smell?
The bodies, rotten and dunked
in blood, with no one to pay
heed to. Then waiting in despair
with no one in the waiting.
Can you taste?
The salt in their eyes, the misery
imposed by the system. The
horrible, sour, bland flavor of
a failed regime.
Can you hear?
The screams, the wailing, the
howls, their cries. They are still
waiting and screaming. Can
you hear them?
21. Notes from the journal
For those who alone did trot,
waiting for a miracle to come,
they often are not looking too,
for a sign to pass them by. Done
with the world, evading their
shadows, holding it by the helves.
For they don’t need anyone to survive,
they are whole in themselves.
20. Incredulous
They tell me not to read mythology and
believe aimlessly what is forever told.
Of the formation of this universe, the
chaos that metamorphed into the sun,
the stars, the planets, you and me. The
violent rage and act of defiance by
Amnon and his death acting as a deterra
-nce, probably the first where the crime
did someone free. Did you know of all the
Greek tragedy, my favorite is the one told
bySophocles? It talks of love, honor, the
duty, oppression and tyranny as it unfolds.
They tell me not to read mythology and
believe aimlessly what is forever told.
I recall now that I once read, of woman so
strong, warriors she fed. Madhavi was her
name and she bore it with pride, she was
used as a fortune by them. Alas, it was
written by men. Forever, I did try to find the
genesis of his highness Macbeth or of
Sisyphus, who twice cheated death. If you
close your eyes, you can hear poor Orpheus’
lore.
They tell me not to read mythology and
believe aimlessly what is forever told.
When they ask me to believe, I do often
gather, the four horsemen making their way
to end the world, but I’d take hurricanes and
tsunamis rather. Fearless as they are, it’s the
women who call me from the narrative they
are written in, always longing to be at par.
The mightiness of the men, their heroism is
at what the story is often sold.
They tell me not to read mythology and
believe aimlessly what is forever told.
19. Questions unanswered
In the quest of knowing and not
knowing, the remembering is
what baffles me profusely.
For I shall never know
what it holds for me
and what it holds
against
my solemn
self.
18. Yugen
Can you hear the music
echoing in the streets?
There are voices too doleful
to take no notice of.
Can you hear them scream
and crying in the streets?
The voices now deafening
destroying the credence.
Can you feel their voices
calling out for help?
The agony, the distress
still calling, but now it’s too late.
17. We exist
I don’t know which type I am. The A
type which is always ready to for an
adventure, would want to talk on the
phone and not really on the message
Or the B type, the one who really lie low,
loves to be left alone with their
thoughts, just need a book and coffee.
I don’t know which type I am. I am the
one who wants to be there, always,
with my friends, having fun and seeking
adventure but not always, I carry my
favorite book to my favorite places
alone and in that quest, I start feeling
lonely, the kind of lonely that comes
when you’re surrounded by people. I
don’t know which type I am, I think
these types were created by us to make
the people conform to the set principles
and to understand ourselves the way
we perceive everyone else, ordinary and
vanilla. So, I don’t know which type I am.
I am the type who gets a bout of spunk
only sometimes. The kind of courage that
forces me to download a dating app but
doesn’t help in actually going out and
meeting people. The type that enables
my every act of sneering insolence and
makes me believe that I am a product
of these baseless by-laws, and I’m ought
to be like this and act like this. I don’t
know which type I am, but I know that
I am not what the world wants me to be.
We exist.
16. Welcome to my Ted talk
I’ve come to a halt. My body
doesn’t want to move, it is
breathing out air, inhaling and
exhaling but moving, no. It is
done, I am done, my brain, my
body, every nerve in my system is
done. I recently watched this
show called “Feel good” in hopes
to feel good myself, and it hit me
like an epiphany, how comedy
often masks the complexities
of nature, we call it mental health.
So, now that I’ve watched
something that was supposed to
be feel good, and I don’t feel good
after it, I think that the feelings that
are resonated by my mind, my body,
will go unnoticed. I don’t know how
to feel about it and whom to talk
about it. So, now, my body is in this
state of self loathing with an ounce
of anxiety because I wanted to watch
something that’d make me feel good,
but instead I watched something that
made me miserable.
Darling, you gotta believe in yourself. Choose yourself. Show up, be aware, and present for yourself. Put in the time and dedication needed while doing the work. Take care of yourself. Heal. Make a mends. Forgive and forget. Make sure you’re okay mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically while always doing your best. You deserve to live life and thrive. You are loved. You are cherished. You are intelligent. You are beautiful. You are unique. You are everything you’re supposed to be. You don’t have to hide it. And, yes…you have flaws. A few of them. But, those things often change overtime. You have all that you need to have all that you want. You don’t have to ask for anything. You don’t have to beg for nothing. You don’t have to hide or minimize who you are. You are exactly who you’re supposed to be. Live your life. Gather your tribe. Manifest your dreams. Build your kingdom. Do what you like and love. Try what you hate and learn what you don’t know. Experience and explore this world and all that it has to offer you. There are blessings hidden within everyday with your name on it. Each day is a gift, every moment is a present. Be willing and open to criticism and learning. Be honest and truthful about yourself and others. Love yourself. Hug yourself. Date yourself. Let go and live. Don’t be afraid of the unknown or confused about what is know. Don’t fear anything at all. Go with the flow of what you’ve been called, positioned, and purposed to do. Embrace yourself. But, most of all…get rooted. Build yourself a solid foundation, safe haven, and home. For yourself and others by knowing who you are, what you stand for, & why. Never straying away from your truth. All of this your responsibility. This is how you discover your true identity. Take accountability over it. There is great power inside you. You deserve to be celebrated and known. Your DNA is one of a kind. You matter just as much as everyone else. There is no one else just like you. So, come on…tell and show the world who you are. Don’t hold yourself back or limit yourself. We’re all dying to know the real you. This is your time. Introduce yourself. “Hi, my name is…”
There was a plan. There had always been a plan. For as long as I could remember, I had everything all figured out - until it wasn’t. Every details was perfect. Every area was noted. Nothing could go wrong as long as I stuck to the plan. I was going to be okay. Everything was going to work out fine - until it didn’t, of course. I don’t even know what happened. I can’t pin point a specific moment where things just fell apart. I just know one moment, I was in the prime of my life, living it up. And, the next moment, everything around me was dark and crumbling to pathetic ashes. What happened to the plan? What happened to following every single detail on the list? What happened to seeing it all through until the end? I had a plan. I was supposed to stick to the plan. I was okay. Everything was going to be fine - until it wasn’t. I had everything under control. I had finally gained my freedom. I was comfortable in who I was becoming. I was confident in my ability to maintain. The world was in the palm of my hand. I had a plan. I had a solid plan for my life…or so I thought. I guess life had other plans for me because this plan that I created…yeah, it’s not going to work out. It’s ruined. And, to my own surprise…I’m not sad about. I’m relieved. Maybe, the plan was supposed to get ruined in order for me to plan my next adventure, afterwards. Because, there was a plan. There has always been a plan.
Most days, I don’t feel good enough. Sometimes, I feel inadequate. Like, no matter what I do or say…it just won’t make sense. People won’t get it. They don’t get me. They never understand. Most of the time, I feel invisible. Not noticed or seen. I fade into the background and dwell amongst the shadows of everyone else surrounding me. My voice is soft and timid. I have no tone. My words are the sweetest whispers only a few who are close to me can hear them. I scream in painful agony, silently. Trying not to burden anyone with my baggage or being. But, sometimes…I need help. I shrink and feel small amongst crowds, so…I try not to take up too much room when I fit into where I belong. Even when cozy and nestled close in my position and role. I still feel alone. I still feel as if I don’t belong. As if, I am unworthy to be in this place. As if, I am undeserving to be where I am. As if, I should be ashamed of being who I am. But, sometimes…I need space. It’s exhausting and I am so tired. I need someone to talk too. I’m tired of changing. Tired of adapting. Tired of pretending. Tired of denying these feelings as if they don’t come from something deeper. I need someone to save me. This is broken. This is dysfunction. This is anger. This is sorrow. This is despair, grief, depression, rage, and confusion. This is a slow painful death to a person I love but, lost so long ago. I need for you to care. This is me. Breaking down to ashes. But, I won’t stay down here too long. I promise. I need to rise up and start over. This is my recovery to freedom…
Darling, I see you busting your behind to get where you’re going. That hustle is in your blood, that grind is in your bones and that ambition is in your spirit. You’re always quiet but, your actions speak louder than words. You stay to yourself and keep everything on the low. You hate a audience cause you’re not trying to put on a show. You go to work. You get a bag. You never say much to the world. But still, I noticed your voice. I see your stance. You growing up and maturing over time, you’re becoming grand. Can’t say I’m not proud of you, I am, I can’t lie. I believe in you. I know your future’s bright. I’m rooting for you. Keep your eyes on the prize. You got this. Ain’t no need to deny your greatness. You better own it because I know you’re in-control of it. Be yourself and embrace you. Love yourself or no one else will. You’re healing the wounds, breaking the curses, and ridding yourself of your chains. You’re rebuilding yourself and recreating the life you always wanted. I’m so glad to see you succeeding, after being told you’ll never make it. You’ve done beyond that. I salute you! It’s all love, kid. I see you.
In the midst of trying to love myself, am I trying to love someone else? I tried this before and it didn’t work out. Should I do it, again? I’ve picked up majority of my shattered pieces. With a little bit of super glue, I’ve managed to put this heart of mine back together. It’s not perfect nor does it look like the norm but, it works and functions as purposed. No strings attached, it hasn’t been sown to my sleeve or unraveled by anybody. However, it’s chambers are still full and being cleaned every moment. I know it’s alot to consider and even more complicated to ponder but, I have to find an answer before I die of fear or embarrassment. Will hurt win and triumph over me with it’s scornful gloats? Or, is it possibly for me to sanely indulge in the life of others in pure joyful bliss while accepting new love through a dream of life’s best? This is the question left existing in me…