Impulse Was His Weakness (Collaboration)

It was his only chance
He rushed towards the door
Impulse was his weakness
Thus he tripped onto the floor

Knowing who was knocking
He wanted to make an impression
Little did he realise he was bound
By a wheelchair and a confession

He picked himself up to get the door
To her surprise, this day she found
His confession was constrained
By her sentimental sound

With wails and tears she empathised
As her lover succumbed to the chair
A little girl tugged at her dress
And asked, “Is this man Daddy?” in despair.

 

Varnika and MG

 

 

Enjoyed collaborating this creative piece with an inspiring poet, Varnika
(Click here for more poetry and spoken wordwith audio)

On Words and Wisdom

poetry.jpg

 

MG

You Me Them

I promised to write more than sappy love letters
But all of a sudden you popped up out of nowhere
Into my life, you came unexpectedly
And never left, merely transformed into me

See, we were separate once, many moons ago
Not so many that I can’t recall, though
The memories have faded, new ones have formed
Each taking a varied shape; some robust, some deformed

Nonetheless, you and I never really started
For the same reason, never actually departed
Somewhere along the way we simply merged
Like the oceans welcoming newly melted icebergs

Tonight, of all nights, out of the blue
You sang to me an unforgotten tune
Lyrics to a song that were once my inspiration
Music to the words evoking your emotions

Back when we met, that same song of ours
Was sung to another who I’d dated for hours
At least it would seem, now that time has passed
Reminiscing over a past I knew wouldn’t last

I’m curious though, do you still remember those years?
When we sat on the steps confronting our fears?
Drinking bottle after bottle, drowning out our sorrows
Repeating the cycle each and every morrow

Until one day, I grew bored of you
Dropped the alcohol, took a break from you, too
At least for a while, I let you linger in the background
Stalking the possibility that you’d come ’round

Tonight, of all nights, I finally know why
I’ve kept the memory of you alive
Seeing you again after all this time
Refreshed, rejuvenated, so full of life

I knew in an instant that you felt it, too
Looking at me was a reflection of you
Both of us needed to be renewed
Yet until it happened, we hadn’t a clue

Here we stand, staring at each other
Wondering what to say to one another
Our decade worth of consistent warfare
All to hide a deluded affair

Unspoken words with unworded flirts
Optical conversation conducted with smirks
Somehow we spoke with facial expressions,
Eye-contact, and minimal diction

You were torn in that moment, a dilemma at bay
For you hadn’t decided if you wanted to stay
Or if you were visiting just for a day
You were torn between your boredom and our game

That’s when I snapped you back to reality
Reminded you that you’re already part of me
You seem to think you’re a separate entity
But you’re an iceberg that melted into the sea

You pulled me into your fantasy
Thought you could write me off as a dream
Then didn’t realise you’d fallen head first
Into the intricacies of my world

All I did was sit back and smile
Knowing it would take you only a while
To realise that you wanted more
Than you ever would’ve let yourself before

Which is why today, you showed up again
Seeking, nay, begging for my attention
Yet if I were to give it, you’d put up resistance
All because you love the thrill of the chase

We’re different yet alike; we’re Jekyll and Hyde
Of the same body but not the same mind
Of the same emotion but opposite reactions
Of the same actions with differing interpretations

What I do, you hope to achieve
What you do, will be my history
Together, you and I present the illusion
That we’re filled with complications and confusion

When in truth, we’re both quite simple
We wear the same masks, bear the same ego
We step out the door in our human costume
Pretending time and again that we’re one of them

It’s been so long now, we’ve even a system
Designed specifically for engaging the humans
When we leave the house, we use your persona
It’s more well-received; people like you better

Behind closed doors, we get to be me
Away from humanity, we’re finally free
When we’re with loved ones, we merge ourselves
Bolster our strengths and offer some help

Now I won’t tell you what we’re like around enemies
That part of our strategy shall remain a mystery
Just know that when it comes to war
More than victory, justice is worth more

Our life is not as hard as it seems
In fact, it’s rather entertaining
And perhaps (more than) a little exhausting
But c’est la vie, we live amongst humans.

 

MG

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery

You care about all those in your world
The souls of innocent boys and girls
But what about those who actually make
And build your world in the first place?

I’ve wanted to write for days on end
But the rage inside me would not bend
So I fought hard, as best as I could
Until all that was left — splinters n’ wood.

You looked at me once, a time ago
When you loved me, with or without the ego
Returning from the battle after cleaning up your mess
I’d barely had a rest and you put me back to the test

What were you testing for, strength or pride?
For loyalty? For honesty? For following through with desire?
Though that war I’d fought for you
The victory, to me, was nothing new.

The unexpected part of all this was you
At least…the you I thought I knew.
Relentlessly, I’d destroyed your enemy
Only to have it pop out in front of me.

Taking the shape of you effortlessly
But forgetting that I once knew you intimately
This figure standing before me, anew
Confirmed…

 

 

The you I knew
was never you
.

 

 

MG

Magic

Through literature and writing, we understand our actions, our choices, and our decisions. Words without actions are…a form of art. While some actions may seem impossible, there’s always a thesaurus to shift a perspective.

I’ve encountered fiction that appear impossible in real life, but there is always a way to actualize an idea into a reality. Surprisingly, concepts such as transfiguration in the Harry Potter series, vampires and werewolves in most contemporary fantasy, or even serial murder mysteries by Doyle or Christie can be done.

How? Allow me to demonstrate.

As a child, I enjoyed reading Harry Potter. I wasn’t one of those fans who had to have a wand, or wanted a cape and rounded glasses. I simply experienced the story and wanted to know what happened next. It wasn’t until later on in life that I discovered how much literary metaphorisation I had unconsciously “experimented”.

Transfiguration and levitation were metaphors of changes in life, of rising, or ascending to a “higher self”. A better, more improved (upgraded, one could almost say) version of me.

Then there were the vampires and werewolves: the immortalized entities that I soon found were projected by textbooks that had captivated me over the years. The law books, the political theories, the philosophical doctrines, the economic downturns of the century…to name a few.

Vampires represented immortality; philosophical thinking is arguably so. They go around in circles leading nowhere except deeper into the discovery of “self”, and that constant flux of how being in the here and now causes one to feel “stuck in the present”, or “stuck in forever”, as the story goes…

Werewolves are obvious; they shift and “transfigure” at full moon. It indicates that there are cycles and moments in life that force one to reflect. Why? Because, um, the moon is…reflective…? It reflects the light from the sun, stealing a radiance that was never its to have.

Finally, murders and mysteries. Does this represent aggression and violence? Well, yes and no. Not physical aggression or violence, but a relentless anger that is channeled into destroying my demons. Into terrorizing the hell out of them. My demons see me coming from a mile away, and are either subservient to me, or they run in fear of being slayed.

I’m friends with some of them though, don’t get me wrong. Pain and Anger are fun. Pain gets me paid, and Anger keeps me awake. Anxiety and Sadness, on the other hand, seem to have found themselves a nice little hiding spot; I haven’t seen them for ages. Can’t say I miss them, they kept thinking the world was running out of oxygen so we had to conserve it by sitting around doing nothing. Strange ones, they were…

So, through literature and writing, we understand our actions, our choices, and our decisions. Words without actions are…a form of art. While some actions may seem impossible, there’s always a thesaurus to shift a perspective. Magic!

Peace!

MG