Bill, please.

"And you, madam? What will you have?" he asked me.

Anger. Chaos. Love. Tears. Peace. Nothingness. Euphoria. Boredom. Laughter. Pain. 
The zenith and the nadir. And everything in between. That's what I'll have.

I smiled. "A cup of coffee, please. With two sugar cubes."

-theguldu

Days

Remember those days?
Days of sparkling sunshine and unbridled joy? 
Days of beautiful nothingness and carefree butterflies? 
Days of fallen leaves and amusing stories? 
Days of silly laughter and endless banter? 
Days full of me and you? 
I hope you do.

-theguldu

Goodbye

Written about two years back. How things have changed...and so much for the better. :)

The walk and the grin

The smile and the eyes

The "hey lady" and the "adios"

The books and the movies

The giggles and the taunts

The beads and the specs

Things said too late

Things never said

Things never heard

I'll miss what we were

I'll miss what we weren't

But mostly I'll miss what we never could be

Goodbye.

-theguldu

Standstill

I wanted to go and help
Try and ease the pain
Talk about the good old days
Make him smile again

He stretched out his hand
I wanted to reach out too
Tell him I'll always be there
Say something I've always wanted to

A glance and he was gone
And there was no one by my side
I wanted to cry out loud
A barren vast deep inside

But I just stood there.

-theguldu

The Lake

In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.

But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.

Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.

Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.

- Edgar Allan Poe

Lines Written in Early Spring

I heard a thousand blended notes,

While in a grove I sate reclined,

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts

Bring sad thoughts to the mind.




To her fair works did Nature link

The human soul that through me ran;

And much it grieved my heart to think

What man has made of man.




Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,

The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;

And ’tis my faith that every flower

Enjoys the air it breathes.




The birds around me hopped and played,

Their thoughts I cannot measure:—

But the least motion which they made

It seemed a thrill of pleasure.




The budding twigs spread out their fan,

To catch the breezy air;

And I must think, do all I can,

That there was pleasure there.




If this belief from heaven be sent,

If such be Nature’s holy plan,

Have I not reason to lament

What man has made of man?




- William Wordsworth

Southern Sunrise

Color of lemon, mango, peach,
These storybook villas
Still dream behind
Shutters, their balconies
Fine as hand-
Made lace, or a leaf-and-flower pen-sketch.


Tilting with the winds,
On arrowy stems,
Pineapple-barked,
A green crescent of palms
Sends up its forked
Firework of fronds.


A quartz-clear dawn
Inch by bright inch
Gilds all our Avenue,
And out of the blue drench
Of Angels' Bay
Rises the round red watermelon sun.


- Sylvia Plath