We are all conflicted
In this critic laden world of ours
And yet there is kindred
To connect with
There is likeness
That is acceptable
Strived for
applauded, lauded when achieved…

There are the weird,
A character, if u please…

And yet there are the shunned
Whatever normality they attempt
Is a fraud
Whatever is their natural is

We celebrate togetherness so well
Applaud uniqueness
Yet are
Of all who are truly unique
Truly different
Truly just someone
Who would find so much comfort
In being apart of the same
Instead of the shame.

Waiting to know

I write mindlessly
Not knowing what i want to mean
Not knowing what I’m supposed to want
I reach out to no one
And feel no one needing me
But that’s not true
Everyone needs to not hear
Me out of chorus
Out of tune
Out of order
Out of sense
And searching for my own understanding
Because no one knows how long that could take
And who but i…if even i come to know…
Know what i really need to know?

Dream Catalogue – 03-28-16

I’ve always had vivid dreams and often remembered them for days after. At times it’s the same dream or same setting but different feel, characters, or familiar situation gone awry. I thought why not note these down, maybe I’ll get some insight into their meaning…


Two peacocks rushed into the room
But a boiled pink and hardly a feather left in its train
“We want to stay with you”
They whined, jabbing at me
Pecking at my face
I reached out and grabbed their beaks shut
Pushing them away
My sister looked on
“Tell them you’ll think about it…or that you’ll try”
They looked at me expectantly
“What?? I can’t keep you….!” I could hardly get the words out of my mouth before they started jabbing at me poking their beaks into face.
I pushed them away, I’d had enough
“Stop, just stop!”
“Rahul! Vijay! Stop now, that’s enough!”
My sister shouted. The peacocks looked at her, bent their heads in shame and quietly walked out.
“You named them???”
(Woke up)

* please note often when I say “I” or “my sister” it’s what I perceive the characters in my dream to be….often these characters occupy my dreams moreso than what I can identify as myself.

I write, but….

I write but
Not compelled
Not awoken
Startled by the force
To feverishly pen
What flows
What bursts forward
To be read
I do not wake
The words caught
Under breathe
Recited like a
Newly wrought prayer
Its power still new
Still raw
Still strong in its conviction
To be heard…