The Good Student

My God, I learn!
Very slowly but I try.
Very slowly but I do.

This change of air;
stranger land, different faces
welcome,
smile,
accept,
don't accept,
ignore,
teach.

Teach resilience.
Teach patience.
Teach pain.
Teach strength.
Teach life.

Stranger land, you'll never be mine.
Stranger land, I can touch you.
Stranger land, I can't hold.
Stranger land, I can't make love to you.
Stranger land, I can admire.
Stranger land, little you speak.
Stranger land, lot you say.

Slap me across the face
and kiss my black lips.
Bitter lessons are made
of these.
Sweet dreams are too.

Home shall come
in due course of time.
I shall be banished
to the warmth of mother.
With a vinegar tongue
I shall talk
of a mistress I have,
of a mistress I don't,
of a mistress I show off!

But I shall learn a bit more.
Some strength
I will fake.
The strength
that later will take shape too.

My God, I learn.
My God, I love
what is not mine,
what will never be,
what still shall seduce,
and vanish like a mirage.


---
All things teach Biprorshee

About A Love Song...

I sing
a song and not of sixpence.
I sing
a song of joy.
Of a heart brimming with love.
Of love pouring over.
I sing
a love song.

About the rush to reach where you are,
about your sighs, threats and disgust
and about coffee bars and liquor stores.

About tiny fingers, messy hair and car rides,
about brownies, more coffee and English grammar
and about other love songs.

About hurt, tears and hugs,
about separation, rejection and kissed eyes
and about turning around and not looking back.

About you, about me, about us,
about him, and him and them
and about a feeling inexplicable.

I sing a song.
A love song,
a hate song.

I sing
when the hurt
gets unbearable.
I sing
with a failed voice.
I sing, I wail
all to bury the pain with dirt!

---
All feelings musical, all pain Biprorshee

Will Die!

Why do things rot
slowly?

Seems like God too loves a slow death.
The sadist immortal.
Poking, punishing and laughing.

I, a snake
without fangs without venom.
It is funny!
It is funny when you Almighty
who can't stop beaming being all powerful
won't let me bite.

What's the deal?
You, the snake charmer
don't charm me at all.
And I still am to dance,
dance to your designed cacophony
Laugh when you poke,
pretend to be tickled.

I am to decompose gradually too.
Wasted of everything I own.
It's funny!
It's funny because You say nothing is mine.
You say, you are the Absentee Landlord
claiming rent for this life.

I, a tenant
can't leave this house.
I, the tenant
can only complain
and You shall demand a higher rent,
and the lease shall never end.

Replenish You shall not.
To corrode I live.
This life, a placebo!

---
All things die quicker than Biprorshee

Up here Down there

A spirit

High

A spirit

Soiled

A spirit

in a dirty glass

A spirit

Broken...Sharp!

A spirit

Gold

A spirit

Black

A spirit

Bitter

A spirit

Heavy

A spirit

Large

A spirit

Shallow

A heart

Charred

A soul

Sentenced

A spirit

Illegitimate

A spirit

Cheap

---

All things high like Biprorshee

Substance....Abuse!

Little

I learn.

Slowly

I know.

Walking away from joy

is what keeps me alive.

Pinching the skin,

piercing the heart,

hurting you,

punishing me

has brought me home.

You are my strange drug.

You get me high

staying away.

I am not to breathe you.

I am not to keep you.

A roll call.

I am to mark you absent.

Everyday.

Call out your name.

Everyday.

And know you're not there.

And float in the trip

taking thrills in the distance.

Breathing the smell

of a burnt bridge.

The fumes numb me.

Then quickly thrash

forgetting its anesthetic role.

It then has to singe me

from within.

Cook me on a slow flame,

blacken a blackened soul

to make it ugly and inedible.

You are such a strange drug!

You are such a strange addiction!

You are the most heinous pain,

I love!

Don't ever hold my hand

I must know you not.

I must love you much.

My little fat darling...

I must hate you.

Not!

---

All things you; you who kills Biprorshee