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yashkasm · 1 month

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Ode to Gliese

To the one who resides

16 light years away from here

Let me ask you to travel

Through Speed

In Light

The Memories

You live in an absurd space

A place moving slower in time

You pace slower than me

And although I'm swifter

I wish I was slow, probably slower than you.

You're seeing something different, a different me in a different time

A girl with an intact life

A complete heart

And an unharmed body

A dream in the mind

O Gliese, I wish I could leave earth

Intergalactic travel

Speed light memories

A flash, a bang, an explosion

Journey through the limits of time.

Time is all we need

Time turns, bends, kills,mends

Time's pace determines my life

Times has been harsher here.

To GJ 1002

If you could read this, I hope you do

To you who sees the me 16 years ago

To you who sees me with an unfractured heart

To you who sees me riding the bike with my grandfather

I hope you see that I've never faltered

I was not always like this

I was whole once

I was a child once

An adult thrice and over

But 21 years of life has it's perks

And more and more

Gliese who resides 16 years

Away from me

I hope you understand

You understand that I was once too full of life like you

I too was full of life and more

But now I'm a dying star

I wish you'd grant me your vision

So I can see what life is again

I am sorry for the failures you're about to see

But Gliese

Oh what if

What if Gliese you see me happy again?

- Yasha (self penned)

#poemsociety #poetry #sadpoem #poemsdaily #my writing #spilled ink #personal #trauma #desire #haunting #personal poems #my posts

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yashkasm · 1 month

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The Three of Us

Once I was,

Now there is three of us

They,

Are carved out of me.

Once my limbs,

Now there is three of us,

They,

Now none of me.

Three bodies,

Once the limbs of my own,

We now look towards the morning sky

The awaited dawn, healer of wounds

Has finally come by.

I tried to extend my arms

But they are not mine anymore.

They are bodies with equal scars.

We cannot cry,

We have no mouth

And we must starve.

My body is a grotesque memory

Of what I used to be

Scars and stitches outline my body

They said it was necessary to be free.

Oh look, what they have done to me.

- Yasha (self penned, on Partition of India)

#poemsociety #poetry #sadpoem #my writing #poemsdaily #spilled ink #personal #trauma #partitiontrauma #literature

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yashkasm · 1 year

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You

You never listen

The gibberish that I cry

You won't listen

Because I'm not trying hard.

In frames I first saw you

Six years later,

You are still in those frames,

Where I've first witnessed you.

I want you to come out,

Or let me in,

There is just no way.

They all cried,

Their cries were synchronised.

I wanted to stand out,

I wanted to cry out louder,

So it could deafen the others out.

But I could not croak,

I cannot cry

I am ashamed

To just not try.

Why is it so? Why is it so?

You stay behind those frames?

I dreamt of you,

Us to be exact,

Inside those frames.

A frame of love,

A frame of deceit,

A frame of lot other things.

The structure has solidified,

Six years of work still going on.

A frame of my love and my devotion

To you,

And only to you and you.

Wish I could shatter you.

I modelled my ladies after you,

The ladies I would become to suit you.

The decade long distance can be shortened,

If i just try harder.

My ambitions morphed

Into something for you,

Something to get to you,

Something to get from you.

Two decades in,

And no ounce of love.

I wanted it just from you.

In this maze

I am cornered

Shame, guilt, anger

Piling up on my chest.

I want to burn this whole maze down

And perhaps myself too

There seems to be no way out.

The ladies watch me in silence

They have seen too many like me

I can't be helped

Atleast not by them

This is very much different.

I thought of stabbing you

But i could not

Violence seemed fine

Until it was you.

You can't be cut

You can't be thrown

You are a parasite

You just won't go.

Would I let you go?

I don't know.

If I could,

I'd keep us forever.

In that frame that I've created of you.

The frame where a lot happens,

But they will never know.

Will I ever get to you?

I don't know

If I don't,

Then let me burn this image of you

And together with this

Let me burn with you.

I want to be with you

For one last time

In the final flames

Of my burning frame

Of only me and you.

- Yasha.

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yashkasm · 1 year

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On the occasion of Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky's birthday, here's a quote from 'The Brother's Karamazov', I absolutely adore.

"Now I am going to tell you everything. I must get it off my chest. I've told and angel in heaven,now I have to tell an angel on Earth, too. You're my angel on Earth. You'll listen to me, judge me and forgive me..... What I need is - someone higher than myself to forgive me."

#fyodor dostoevsky #Dostoevsky #fyodor mihayloviç dostoyevski #the brothers karamazov #demons dostoevsky #dostoevsky tag #dark academia #quotes #sad qutoes #grief quotes

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yashkasm · 2 years

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Drugstore Cowboy

And I am a drugstore cowboy

Who steals crack up and down

Ain't nobody gonna find me

So I am about to find myself now.

Trips I take and pills I pop

The world and I have stop revolving

My time stops here but yours do not

Don't worry about me I'll come around.

Drugstore cowboy is what they call me

I am lonely and I'm not free

This sadness will be mine forever

Don't share it, it's not for you to bother.

The drugstore man drives me away

But I need stuff for my last trip

I want to see places

Animals and birds

Plants and flowers

Trees and shrubs.

Oh old man

It's gonna be late

So please hurry up

Spare me some pills

And I won't bother you

Again for my trips.

This drugstore cowboy is out there

Embarking on his final trip

He battles sun, rain and storm

And creatures of the unknown

But he is still fighting for his life

But it slipping out his grip.

Yasha

#sadpoem #poemsdaily #poemsociety #poetry #poem #my writing #writing #drug abuse #drugs tw #addiction #sad #newpost

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yashkasm · 2 years

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"Did they fly?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"There."

"When?"

"Today."

They have grown wings.

They're flying,

Their wings bared.

My eyes were wet.

I hope they soar,

In the endless sky,

And see the wide world,

I will be here.

With my one torn out wing,

I'll be here to hear all about it.

Don't worry,

Where else would I go?

-Yasha (self penned)

#poemsdaily #poetry #british literature #sadpoem #my writing #poem #poemsociety #sad #piece #writing #daily poetry

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yashkasm · 2 years

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"But everybody ended up leaving somehow. I did end up alone. I knew it but somehow all those while i tried to forget it, because why not? In this cold cold place, a little summer is nice. It's happy, for awhile. I stand here today Mole, but you lay six feet under. Hopefully my voice reaches down there. Does it? Please tell me it does. I have got no ears to listen to me anymore. Everybody has left. Where did they go?"

-Yasha

#sad #smallparagraphs #poemsociety #writing #words #dark academia #loneliness #stages of grief #grief quotes

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yashkasm · 2 years

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But he did not lie though.

He was right.

I was blinded,

With rage and grief.

I couldn't see past revenge.

I left mercy behind,

At the steps of the clock tower,

Where he had left me.

I doubt if mercy will wait for me there.

I wonder if he will be there.

- Yasha

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yashkasm · 2 years

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"I've failed you, haven't I?"

"I'm not the adult you thought you'd be."

She did not look at me.

She was making a daisy chain.

"I am sorry," said I.

She did not say anything.

She kept on making her chain.

In time she finishes it, and she puts it on my head.

"Do you have time to appreciate things?" she says at last.

I nodded, eyes blurry.

"Then you have not failed yet."

- Yasha (self penned)

#childhood #nostlagia #nostalgic #nostalgiacore #poemsdaily #poemsociety #poetry

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yashkasm · 2 years

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"Bravo Encore!"

And I obliged

For one last time

I went on stage.

To enthrall the ones who were here to see me

To make this night

A memorable one for them.

It is I who they're watching

It is I who has captivated them.

I no longer have the force in me

But i still begin to put out

The greatest performance that i had ever shown to them.

I huff and pant

Between my pieces

While they keep cheering, not noticing that i was becoming pale.

But oh the symphony of cheers

The Bravos and Whistles

God this is why I am alive for!

Or I used to be.

My life force begins to fade

As my final performance comes close to it's end.

Men on seats

Women on their edges

Sniffing into their laces

They all weren't satisfied but they were.

This is all I could offer

And now as an old swan

I struggled to move in those waters

I don't remember if it was graceful,

My last bow that is,

But I surely remember the crowd yelled

'Wonderful'.

- Yasha

#poemsdaily #poetry #poem #poemsociety #own poem #literature #sadpoem #sad poetry #spilled ink #personal #my writing #writers

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yashkasm · 2 years

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"But, I don't want to die Mr. Wilson!' said the boy with tears in his eyes.

"I still have so much to do. I still have to get bread for lunch tomorrow, flowers for grandma, wash the clothes and hang them up to dry. I got things to do. I cannot die!"

I patted the boy and put him to bed.

He did not sleep, he sobbed for a long time. He sobbed late into the quiet hours of the night.

I watched him.

He was indeed going to die.

There was no other way.

But how could I tell him that?

He had so many things to do after he woke up.

Yasha

#heartbreaking #sad #selfpenned #my writing #writing #death #sadpoem #small writing

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yashkasm · 2 years

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'We Are Seven'

By William Wordsworth

A simple Child,

That lightly draws its breath,

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

—Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said,

And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the church-yard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,

Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;

Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the church-yard laid,

Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little Maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.

“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.

“And often after sun-set, Sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”

“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little Maid’s reply,

“O Master! we are seven.”

��But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

’Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

#british literature #literature #poetry #poemsociety #poemsdaily #poem #sadpoem #william wordsworth #wordsworth #classics

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yashkasm · 2 years

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'Casabianca'

- Felicia Hemans, 1826

#poemsdaily #old poem #casabianca #wordsnquotes #poemsociety

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yashkasm · 2 years

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"ᴸᵃᵈʸ ᴹᵒᵒⁿ" by Lord Houghton

#british literature #short poem #poetry #children's poetry #russian literature

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yashkasm · 2 years

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"Love is gone, Mitya!” Katya began again, “but what is gone is painfully dear to me. Know that, for all eternity"

- Dmitri 'Mitya' Karamazov, ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴋᴀʀᴀᴍᴀᴢᴏᴠ.

#fyodor dostoevsky #quotes #writers #the brothers karamazov #russian literature

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