The unsolved theorems of misgivings
the plastic strength of love's geometry
supersonic jet planes crash land
a simple word is a ballistic device
i turn rage into arson
there is a mob in my mind
anarchy runs in my veins
i don't think with thoughts
i think with feelings
the reclining Buddha never sleeps
the world becomes strange psychometry
i only see webs detangled and free
but my mind thinks only in binary.
-jaspreet mann, random thoughts of a chaotic being
For as long as I remember my hands were clay bowls
I had in them cowrie shells, a few plastic beads
the cool imprint of my father's hand,
the light caress of my mother's kiss
fragments of unwritten stories.
For as long as I remember I was not 'most' women
I was the solitary robin on the hill, a wild Jasmine in the wind
the sun held secrets for me, the moon lit up my destiny
I wore my sleeve on my heart, I let litanies of spring be.
For as long as I remember my words had meaning
I said what I meant and I meant what I said
I laughed when I pleased, I cried at almost everything
I did not understand the guile of covering.
For as long as I remember my eyes searched for more than me
I saw cracks in faces, I saw faces in cracks
my heart looked through barbed wires of epiphany
the world disappeared in the shadows of money.
For as long as I remember, my friends were Rumi and Hafiz
they looked for me, I looked for them
on snow peaked hills, in dingy streets
For as long as I remember, I thought God lived in my neighbourhood
there were no crusades or bombed cities
For as long as I remember, I remember not remembering me.
© Jaspreet Mann
The sky dances with its shadows. Your heart is not a God. Rain will come, whether you like it or not.
“I often think of myself as a cloud, wandering, drifting in pristine silence. Then suddenly the landscape changes and I am dark, thunderous, unsurmountable, roaring inside my own head. It is beautiful and terrifying at the same time, almost like the unpredictable monsoon showers in my firmament.”
― Jaspreet Mann, Monsoon Showers
To all the people who tried to crush her spirit, pull her down, strike her when she was weak and demoralize her when she was alone, she had only one thing to say- you can never extinguish the god's flame that lives in me.
(Happy Birthday to a woman who personified courage, honesty, steadfastness, loyalty, integrity, truth, wisdom, simplicity and everything saintly. I am just glad that you chose me to be your daughter. I wouldn't want any other mother in any lifetime. Rest in Peace )
This quagmire of corruption. People build castles over dead bodies forgetting that one day their castles will turn to graves. The clock runs around in circles. Everybody will reach their designated place- some in tatters, some in robes engraved. Karma catches up- sometimes early, sometimes late. People build castles over dead bodies forgetting that one day their castles will turn to graves.
Life throws at you-
P E O P L E
it's never things, it's always people
circumstances is people
obstacles is people
dishonesty is people
grief is people
and in between all of this
Life throws at you-
PE O P L E
not worth a dime
but bought for pennies.
(thugs and thoughts)
People in houses look for homes
trellised white picket fences fear the dirt
fragrant roses climb over a reluctant hedge
wooden gates permanently stay locked
grass grows greener on the other side
flowers bloom close to the riverside
streets forget the point of their existence
roads walk in and out like amnesiac blackholes
curtains curtail the solitary existence of hope
doors laugh at windows that hear people come and go
windows despair in the silent spectacle behind closed doors
foot mats do not dust the dust of fumbling feet
mirrors, lights, tulip vases, crystal glasses break ominously
people in houses look for homes
trapped in the shackles of their Stockholm syndrome.
© jaspreet mann