Just stop hurting so much!

[Richard:] I know this is difficult for you.
[Cristina:] No, it's not difficult, sir. It is simple. Burke is not here. He's gone. And he's the better for it. He's winning the Harper Avery Award and being celebrated all over the world. That is not difficult. He's out there. And I'm here. where everything is the same. I still live in his apartment, I walk the same halls of this hospital, I wear the same scrubs, and even that is not difficult. This is where I am. This is where I choose to be. But, sir, when his hand was shaking, performed his surgeries, I kept his secrets, I nursed his pride. You know it, and I know it, and he knows it. He knows it. And yet, nowhere in the newspaper article does my name appear. I am the unseen hand to his brilliance. And yet, while everything is.the same, it's very, very different. Now I'm lucky if I get to hold a clamp. Hahn treats me like… I was his hand, and now I'm a ghost. That's not difficult. It's unbearable. I know everybody is proud of him, but I'm not. And I do not wish him well.

Smoke and cigar

Smoke and cigar- lit up always...
in the room and in the hall ways....
you carry it around in one hand
the other carries a record book..
notes from a hearing fair...
hair pulled back, prim and trimmed in your helmed coat...
fitting precisely in the judgement chair...

does the smoke help..
the ashes open up highways or
burn a bridge to light a pathway....
ohh its ever so difficult to find someone guilty..
when you hear the complete story...
though the cloak is black and white...
every coin has two sides....
and its hard to tell where the decision will sway.....

does the smoke help...
little rings of fire melt
the heart before a death sentence....
or its easier to look without the lens....
into the eyes of the culprit..
standing there in an empty gaze like an exhibit..
with nothing to lose or nothing to hide...
there's no winning with his dismay.....

does the smoke help...
the white clouds in a fuzzy belt
beat you up on being harsh...
for listening to logic instead of heart..
when the jury in all its fury
tried to persuade of the honesty
of a lover and his emotion...
you overlooked
and went with the royal commotion...
now the village is in ruins and the sky's grey....

does the smoke help...
making you aware and making it felt...
how can you decide...
when your own actions you can't justify...
in the time of a tragedy...
everyone looks around...
for someone to blame....
only this time the finger points your way...

does the smoke help...

Grey lilies!

Have you seen a flower in mourning?
dressed in black, drooping like an old hag...
like it suddenly stopped believing....
grey lilies lining my door step...
i mend the garden and i had them swept....
he is gone, but the lilies like to sleep in...
once children of the sky,
venom in the veins now seeps in...

butterflies look the opposite way...
once the blossoms formed silver trays...
cannot feel the bites of the moth...
or when the earthworms bring their clay...
petals fall one by one..
soul cleaves on the ground silent
and insides seething....
Have you seen a flower in mourning?

at the crown the queen bee sat...
now there's a titled hat....
honing the funereal...
laying down a scented mat...
for a dreaded burial...
and the final unveiling...
Have you seen a flower in mourning?

the pleasures of April...
treasures of a free will...
lined in dust, aligned in time
forming a wreath of wrinkles...
impressions of  a mistress visiting in
clothes too revealing...
Have you seen a flower in mourning?

Not another goodbye!

If I have to say this again, I might as well stop believing....

Yeah rip my heart out.. toast it... make a happy meal out of it!

Too much information in 24 hours..... 

Right .. right.. right is the right way to go.....

Counting on you-Mikey Wax Lyrics

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xU8VU8Qh2os

Magician and the queen of hearts....

the queen of hearts falls...
it was a full house...
turn your back on the luck..
run away from the crowds....
in a flash of memory...
he had conundrums solved...
piece by piece the game shapes..
in the old deck of cards...

too late to re-write the script....
too late to blame the culprit...
too late to find the cracks where it fell apart...

hit with stones, silent eyes of coal...
unseen and unknown....return of a name from the past....
once talk of the town, bewitched all around....
back again to claim his crown of stars....

in that fist, there's another trick...
clenched inside, ohh maverick...
surprise in the hours of dark...

is it fire or is it ice...
in those hands, a magic lies..
ohh lover of the queen of hearts...
counting on beads... the queen recedes...
at the apex...where the mountain bleeds....
tumbling down, in a moment it reels..
ohh the fateful tower of cards....


too late to re-write the script....
too late to blame the culprit...
too late to find the cracks where it fell apart...

Latent for years.... Hidden with pain and tears...
the night's here for a show of his art....
the sky aligns,
the forest's benign....
in the shadows dancing away...
forming castles from clay...
he breaks iron with glass...
melting all in sight.. with his fingers bright....
a spell he casts....

the tower begins....
and the mermaid sings...
Ace of spades stands in the last....
like nature's plays...
the fall of the queen entails...
rescued from the king...
in magicians jail....
poisoning hellebore in lycurgus,
served with leaves of hibiscus...
by the window.. loosing control in its trance...


too late to re-write the script....
too late to blame the culprit...
too late to find the cracks where it fell apart...

hollow stadium, empty audience...
here he gave her the ring of flowers...
last smile of queen's life..
witness to the king's demise....
will see no end of the magician's wrath..
a thousand times he is strung....
terror in his eyes as he is hung...
revenge of a love that lasts...
croatans believe his spirit never leaves...
and the magician grieves his queen of hearts....

too late to re-write the script....
too late to blame the culprit...
too late to find the cracks where it fell apart...

Choices!

Its like music... When they start playing it, you don't really like it at first and it annoys you because its disturbing your peace of mind... But when they have played it long enough for you to get used to it and then it suddenly stops.. And you sort of want it to keep playing because you feel like something's missing. You should like the fact that it stopped but you don't and you can't really figure out why... Its unsettling....

And then there are seasons.... You know if you dont like one, it will pass and something else will come along.... You feel like you have a choice when actually you are as helpless as before..... But whether its about the music thats forced upon you for god knows how long or the weather that you to have put up with for a day, in the end you don't really have a choice and more importantly its not about what choice you make. The thing that matters most is what you do with the choices that have been made for you? Whether you accept them and try to make the most of them and in the process forget the person you once were to become a new version of yourself. Or on the other hand, refuse to be a prisoner of someone else decisions, put everything at stake and save yourself if you can. Its a battle either way and fighting is the only way to go....

light years away

A day out in the sun....
finding the voice again...
for a hundred songs sung...
bouncing around in colors mystical...
like butterflies in twilight rays...
beneath cloudless clear skies
floating in the water towards sea gates...
a land of fortuitous beginnings....
a castle of flowers in myriad arrays.....
walking on the wind.....
the feeling has wings....

looms of a life from light years away....

its in the rain...
it comes, it goes..
with the wind it flows....
droplets it brings...
weave them together...
in spirits of ether.....
melt them on untouched strings...
on ursulas feathers....
in silent flutters
you can hear them sing....

shuffle the cards in your hands...
juggle them at your will...
up in the air...
or standing there still....
follow a trail....lost with figures frail....
for a speck of dust.... a star of dusk...
something in shakespeares plays....
the burning eyes and the smoking gaze....
coming out of a century long maze...
fleeting lilies blossoming for another day....
looms of a life from light years away...

How do I unpack this box full of memories?