Tag: love

Snacks That Don’t Run Out

What snack would you eat right now?

What snack would you eat right now?

Chips?

Chocolate?

Something to kill time between thoughts?

But if there were a snack of love….

I would not check the ingredients.

I would not read the label.

I would not ask where it came from.

I would eat it.

Immediately.

Let it melt on my tongue,

not rushed,

not shared,

not explained.

A taste that doesn’t disappear

when the room gets quiet.

A flavour that survives

the insipid moments,

the days that forget your name.

And even when it’s gone…

the memory of it

would sit somewhere in my chest,

recharging me

like a phone left on the table overnight.

A snack of love

would change how I show up.

And if there were a snack of kindness…

oh, I would stock up.

Packets upon packets

stacked in the drawer.

Anyone says they’re hungry,

tired,

ignored,

invisible…

I wouldn’t ask questions.

I’d just hand it over.

“Here.

Try this.”

Let them taste what it’s like

to be treated gently

without earning it.

Because the real snacks,

whatever we eat,

only make us full

for a moment.

But love and kindness…

they fill you long enough

to survive in this city.

They don’t just quiet the stomach.

They fill the heart.

They settle the soul.

And suddenly,

you’re not starving anymore.

You’re alive.

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Forgive Me for Knocking Too Early

Forgive me

for putting a sword

in your nose

because you were not

sneezing the truth

…and I had to poke you.

Forgive me

for mixing humour

into your drink

you were not used to it

but I had to

joke you.

Forgive me

for my impatience.

I didn’t know

you needed time

to process

me.

Relationships don’t work

like a bullet train.

Some do.

But they are rare.

I thought my feelings for you

would go extinct.

That was superficial.

Thinking

I am special.

Now I know

not for you.

Maybe

for someone else.

Forgive me for thinking

you would peek

out of your window

when I rang you

to come outside

just so

I could see you.

If only I had waited

for you

to come naturally

it wouldn’t have hurt.

Oh…

my impatience

for your sight.

Forgive me for thinking

my memories in your mind

would stay immortal

that you could never

move away

from them.

I only needed

a little space

in your heart.

I didn’t know

your mind was encrypted

against my presence.

Forgive me for thinking

you would correct my grammar

every time

I misspelled

my words.

To err

is human.

Your lenses were beautiful.

I wouldn’t have minded

if you had only given me

space

to correct myself.

Forgive me

for forcing myself

into your heart.

I didn’t want to.

But your painting

was beautiful.

And I thought

I could adjust myself

as a dot

on your canvas.

Forgive me.

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Dynamic, Not Dynamite

She didn’t knock.

She walked in

and my heart forgot its own architecture.

No cracks.

No warning lines.

Just… collapse.

Not broken like glass,

broken like matter

splitting into things science hasn’t named yet.

Some pieces too small to grieve,

some vanished,

as if love learned a new way to escape

through air.

I keep asking myself

was it dynamite

or a time bomb?

But no.

It wasn’t a time bomb.

There was no ticking.

No countdown.

No final second where I could have chosen better.

It didn’t announce itself.

It arrived

already finished.

Dynamite was never on my mind.

I was obsessed with dynamic, not destruction.

With our small, beautiful arguments.

The kind that felt like proof we cared.

She could fight over starlight,

debate the sky itself,

while I stayed quiet,

watching the moon do what it does best

shine

without explanation.

Crying was never part of my plan.

But plans don’t survive impact.

Still,

I hope she comes back.

Hope is stubborn like that.

And no,

I didn’t bathe in milk.

I’m not pretending purity.

Maybe this wreckage

has my fingerprints on it.

I danced with my emotions

like I was leading a cult,

convinced passion alone

could hold things together.

I thought I was smart.

Thought love would tighten itself.

But I forgot the basics.

Forgot the quiet work.

Forgot to check the frame.

Forgot

to tighten

my nuts

and bolts.

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Architecture That Cannot Be Evicted

If they try to bulldoze your love,

let them.

Bulldozing changes very little.

When two souls are connected,

love does not disappear.

It reorganizes.

The same space can be rebuilt

without permission,

without noise.

Not with bricks.

Not with mortar.

Not with wood or steel.

It is made of love alone.

This architecture is different.

Quiet feeling.

Presence that cannot be evicted.

You don’t need land.

You don’t need walls.

Any space that matters

can be created

within yourself.

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An Invitation to the Soul

You can be happy now.

Not tomorrow.

Not after fixing everything.

Now.

Smile

the kind that doesn’t ask permission.

Laugh

even if it surprises you.

Dance

not like a star

but like someone

finally alone

with their own body.

Let the sky

watch you

without judging.

Let the wind pass by

and not explain yourself to it.

You don’t owe the universe

a performance.

Be one

with the person

who wakes up inside you

every morning

before your name does.

You call it your soul.

I call it

the one who waits.

When that soul

stands at your doorstep

unannounced

hands empty

eyes tired

would you open the door

or pretend

you are not home?

The door of my heart

is not always open.

It closes

on busy days.

On loud nights.

On days I forget myself.

But on weekends

and slow holidays

when time loosens its grip

I leave it unlocked.

No conditions.

No explanations.

If you’re coming to stay

come gently.

This is where the quiet things live.

The unfinished dreams.

The soft fears.

The beautiful mess.

If you’re looking for beauty

you won’t find perfection here.

You’ll find

someone

still choosing to let themselves in.

Just like you.

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The Smile of a Century

They said…

me and your aura don’t match.

I said,

okay.

And just like that,

we didn’t argue.

We didn’t beg.

We didn’t fight the universe.

We moved on.

Not because they said so,

but because we understood each other

so well

that staying

would have been disrespect.

Some understandings

don’t come with explanations.

They come with goodbyes.

A new chapter waits.

The new year stands nearby,

holding a red carpet.

No…

we are not celebrities.

But we have self-respect.

We know we are valued.

I respect your decision.

You stood up from the chair.

You kissed me

like it was your final line.

You waved goodbye

the way people do

when they already know

they won’t return.

Still…

I dream of crossing your path someday.

And I will smile at you.

Not asking

for a smile back.

Not soon.

Maybe months.

Maybe years.

Maybe so many years

or never again.

Thank you

for the memory.

Because maybe,

at the very end of my life,

I will be touching a frame

where two souls are smiling.

And I will whisper to myself…

That…

was the smile of a century.

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Would You Jump for Humanity? | A Powerful Spoken Word Poem

They asked me,

why don’t you jump from skyscrapers

for the sake of humanity?

I looked at their hands

still warm with coffee,

still steady with comfort

and I said,

I would jump from a mountain

if the fall could shake humanity

so hard

that its tremors

traveled through generations

through cradles,

through graves,

through the bones of tomorrow.

The sound I would become

not a scream,

a bang

would send ripples

through the ribs of the cosmos.

You would all be swallowed

by that echo,

only to be returned

as humans with no destination,

no hunger for meaning,

no memory of kindness

alive,

but emptied of love.

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A Plate of Love

They asked me,

“What would you like to eat today?

What should we serve on your plate?”

And I said,

“A plate of love…

and a tall glass of kindness, please.”

They stared at me

confused,

amused,

like I had spoken a language

they had forgotten existed.

“Sorry, sir…

we don’t serve that kind of dish here.”

So I asked,

“Then what do you serve?”

They handed me a menu

thick pages

full of flavours,

full of noise,

full of everything the world uses

to fill an empty stomach

but never an empty heart.

They said,

“Choose anything you want.”

I closed it softly.

“It’s alright,” I said,

“just a glass of water.”

And suddenly

my request felt heavier

than the whole menu.

Someone in the corner frowned

maybe the manager,

maybe the owner

like simplicity

was suspicious,

like thirst

was a crime.

One of them brought the water

and set it down

with a look that said,

“People like you

waste our time.”

I held the glass

clear, quiet, honest.

And I drank it slowly,

because even water

can feel like a blessing

in a room

where kindness is rare

and love is nowhere

to be found.

I thanked them

for the kindness

they didn’t realise

they had given.

But I couldn’t thank them

for the love

because love…

love was never on the menu.

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Through Storms and Blossoms

there are many bridges to cross

many tracks to cover

but hear me

i would run through storms

tear through thunder

just to be your lover

you can choose to be the garden

or the one who helps it grow

but remember this

your life blossoms

only from the seeds

you choose to sow

be the garden

or the gardener

your bloom

is always

your own

i hope the sky sings for you today

i hope the clouds dance

just to make you smile

i wish the birds

could drop soft flowers

to brighten your quiet hours

may happiness greet you

in everything you do

and may this day

be kind

to you

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I Am Not a Traveller : A Deep Spoken Word Journey Into Silence and Meaning

I am not a traveller
I am the journey itself.
A character in a story
that hasn’t been written yet.

I am the silence
before a word is born,
the pause that holds
a universe inside it.

No book carries my page,
yet I live
in the corners of every heart
a meaning waiting
to be felt.

I am not a voice,
I am the vibration
you only hear
when your soul grows quiet.

I am emptiness
yet overflowing.
Unseen
yet unmistakably real.

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