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Overflowing Ideas.

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Just because I’m awake doesn’t mean I can’t dream.

  • Tell Them

    We keep a number of things to ourselves. Some important things like passwords, passports, things we secretly do to pass time. Some things embarrass us or are awkward stories to tell. Some things are our innermost feelings, or even our outermost.

    A lot of the times, we take months, even years, to spill these out. We are shy or embarrassed or scared to reveal our secrets. Sometimes, it’s for the best to keep things to ourselves, but on the other hand- also important to talk.

    We are all on ticking clocks. We can’t deny destiny, and we are never aware of it. Tomorrow is a mystery and anything can happen. But what if we leave life with wanting to do a million things? What if we leave with a million dreams, a million things we want to tell people? Apologies, confessions, warnings, all go unheard.

    Maybe our clocks will stop ticking and we’ll hasten to see our loved ones again. We’ll hasten to do how much we can in precious time, but we cannot.

    So tell them now. Grab everyone you know and are grateful for, and tell them. Maybe a message, a phone call, but do it. They deserve to know, and you don’t deserve regrets. Tell people you love them, you care for them, you’re sorry, before you lose the chance to as much as reach out to them anymore.

    Written by
    Milomi.

  • Pages- poem

    This is a poem about a wife flipping through newspapers, hoping to not see her husband’s name- who is a soldier in war. She prays and frets, and waits for the soldiers to return.

    PAGES

    She’s first in line for the newspaper
    Fresh from print, smudged ink
    Pushing to get a copy, fingers crossed
    And heart pounding.

    Furiously, fearfully, hopefully,
    Turning to the last page.
    To the obituaries and tributes
    With tears in her eyes
    She hopes to wipe away.

    Scanning the names, remorse
    Fills her heart and self.
    Picturing grieving families and
    Thanking her stars it’s not her.
    Praying and praying

    Is her husband coming home?

    Come home, she’d told him
    Home is where you belong
    Home is where we are, where
    We should be.
    Don’t go, be home.

    So she lives everyday dreading the newspaper
    Dreading his name
    Or hearing about him.

    Love pains, turns to worry,
    Devours oneself from the inside,
    Eating away on sanity.

    Written by,
    Milomi.

  • Spectate- poem

    This is a poem about how we wish to go back and go through our life. How we want to uncork the bottle of emotions built up inside of us, and let everything flow.

    SPECTATE

    To look at your life
    Like the audience does and
    Gasp at every surprise
    Laugh at every joke
    Grin at every moment.

    Relive your happiest memories
    And be filled with joy
    Enough to last a lifetime.

    Break free of your chains
    And let emotions flow
    Till they exhaust you.
    Till you are calm.
    And do it all again.

    Notice the roses, raging with colour,
    The birds, bursting with song,
    The babies, babbling with fervour,
    The roads, rumbling with freedom.
    Take it all in.

    Written by
    Milomi.

  • I Do- poem

    A small wave to her
    As a smile adorns her beautiful face
    Like a light tune the pianist begins with,
    That sparks a charm.

    You tell yourself,
    This. This is
    How it all starts.

    You have a conversation
    Trying to hide your blush
    Soon serenading her with bits
    Of guitar, and your broken voice.
    Soft chords are struck, pedals are pressed,
    The conductor smiles and the violins begin
    Telling the story of your love.

    Late night parties
    Ending with the drummer’s solo,
    As the drums dance to a DJ far away.

    Confessions of your love
    Under the covers
    Whispering secrets in the silence of the night.
    Yet wondering why your hearts
    Sing a deep song of trumpets and
    Fluttering butterflies.
    Slowly rising to a crescendo.

    You kneel down
    Sheet music has no meaning now
    For even drums far away
    Cymbal to a stop to listen to her.

    Her eyes glisten, yours twinkle
    She says yes.

    The world is singing a love song
    And the conductor wipes tears with his sleeve
    As harmonies overcome hearts.

    Canon in D, Wedding March,
    Soft melodies spreading hope.
    The pianist still playing a gentle song
    Of love.

    Written by
    Milomi.

    Image source: https://unsplash.com/photos/M2T1j-6Fn8w

  • Crossing Roads

    We have all grown up learning how to cross a road without a zebra-crossing or signal. To start walking if there are no vehicles approaching you, to stop if there is one. To be alert and aware of what was going on. To be careful. These small lessons become part of our lifestyle and instinct.

    Yet to this day, we all have different ways of crossing roads. Some of us will wait for the road to be clear of all cars and buses, and start walking once the road is emptied. Some of us will play it safe, and will only cross once we are sure no vehicles are present. It takes minutes for the road to clear up, but we are fine with it- as long as it means a safe crossing. We will clasp hands and cross our roads.

    Some of us will grab the opportunity to cross as soon as we find a gap on the road. Cars are approaching – but as long as we don’t crash into them, we are fine. We make it fast- even run at times. We take the risk and hone our reflexes to be agile and take chances.

    And in this way, some of us get left behind- scared to cross, but safe. Others will cross wildly, though vulnerable to danger. It’s really a choice we make, that comes to shape our lives.

    Written by
    Milomi.

  • The Flower- poem

    Flowers. Oceans of the brightest hue of pink,
    Overflowing with waves of petals
    One over another,
    Each slowly falling apart
    As if the glue that held them together
    Begins to weaken.

    Slowly coming to its end but not willing to let go.
    With spirits undeterred,
    It continues living life,
    Attracting admiration.
    For to find joy in fading ink
    Yellowing paper
    Wrinkled pages
    Is a gift.

    It still pulls through,
    Knowing it will wilt and crumple and shrivel up
    Contrary to those flowers
    Just being birthed by nature.

    It still blooms
    And shines like a dying star.
    Drawing glances
    And many a hand to stroke it one last time.

    Flowers. Oceans of dulling hues of pink,
    Scattered petals,
    Arranged in a unique style.
    Fallen apart.

    Written by
    Milomi.

    Image source: https://unsplash.com/photos/Gb5sq0bNLe0

  • Slow- poem

    Take things slow. Don’t rush
    Your life in hopes of reaching the end
    To find treasures that disappear.

    Waltz through life and
    Stop at all the stops during your train ride.
    Try, laugh, smile, and fully exhaust and tire yourself
    Of the wonders of life.

    Do it all while you can;
    Take the leap while you have nothing to lose
    While you aren’t deep in and tangled up,
    Too absorbed to come up for air.

    Soak life in
    Do it all.
    You might find joy or
    Fury or
    Something that frightens you.

    But you only get this once chance
    To ride the roller coaster
    Of life.
    To play through all the situations
    Presented to you.
    To live.

    Written by
    Milomi.

  • Think

    The moment we stop thinking, we stop thriving. The moment we stop pursuing questions that haven’t been answered, ideas that haven’t been explored, notions that are out of this world: we are down to nothing.

    Thoughts will flood your mind and when you sit down in an empty room to think them through, you can reach somewhere. If we leave all material, and sit with ourselves, we go down the Rabbit Hole of thoughts. We border along the thin lines of reality and imagination.

    When we think, we push ourselves to challenge our limits. We are inspired, we are astonished, we thrive. We feast on thoughts and gobble them up, and thus ascend in life.

    But we get distracted. We are distracted by our own creations, not being able to go long without a break. We fail to notice when that ‘break’ turns into a constant lifestyle, and we lose our ‘thoughts’. We stop thinking. We are caught in the frenzy of life- rummaging for a moment with ourselves and coming up with nothing.

    We stop questioning beliefs, ideas, facts and simply accept information as it comes. The rebel in our mind has fallen and we don’t think anymore. We lose bits of our originality every day, and let ourselves be lured into a daze.

    Written by
    Milomi.

    Image source: https://unsplash.com/photos/AijuW-HlE30

  • Twinkling

    We are constantly looking back on our memories. They’re arranged in a sort of a scrapbook in our heads. With each event, we narrate a chapter of our lives; decorating each page and ending with a flourish. Only when going through our book do we realize the tiny moments that made us smile.

    Sometimes it is playing with toys and losing oneself in all the singing. Or letting yourself go wild and shouting out in the wind. Maybe it’s the feeling after you watch a movie and the moment when it all sinks in. Maybe it’s holding hands with someone and jumping up and down or laughing at a bad joke till you cry or screaming your throat sore to a song.

    We all have these moments. Filled with joy, happiness, a fleeting feeling of a happily ever after. We often let these moments go, make space for new ones. It’s not possible to hold on to so many scrapbooks and memories. We run out of space. So the insignificant events slip through the cracks of our minds as we shake them clear.

    Years later, an old memory sparks you. You remember the days that made you grin and shake your head and admit that we should make the most of life. The days of your dancing past midnight, driving to nowhere, swaying to music only heard by you.

    You can’t bring them back, but bookmark the pages in your scrapbooks. Look back at your memories in hopes of finding bottled up joy. The tiny moments, the little things, will make your eyes twinkle. Capture these moments, while you can.

    Written by
    Milomi.

    Image source: https://unsplash.com/photos/P2aOvMMUJnY

  • Slip- poem

    This is a poem about how we forget memories. The excruciating process, which we unconsciously give in to. And the state this leaves us in.

    SLIP

    Memories will slip through

    Fall through your fingers

    Like grains of sand

    Obeying gravity.

    Not heeding your pain

    Or urge to relive moments

    Overlooking the human in you.

    As you slip into a daze

    With everything hazy

    The world spinning around you

    Threatening to let you fall off a cliff

    If you even as much tremble.

    Life becomes blurry

    Clarity is a long lost hope

    Soon turning into a broken dream.

    Sense is drifting away

    As you drift apart

    Breaking your mind into pieces

    That cannot be retrieved

    But are meant to be trampled upon.

    Soon all you stare out into the nothingness

    Into a black hole that swallows whatever pinpricks of life and joy

    You have left.

    That edges towards you

    Somehow inviting, brimming with lost memories

    Tempting you to give in

    Yet vowing to outlive you.

    Written by

    Milomi.