To Old (Imaginary?) Friends

Hear me oh rivers and oceans
Hear me mountains and deep caverns
Hear me great trees, hear me yakshas
Hear me ganas, once again speak
Let my beloved whisper again
Caress me now with the West Wind
Lift my spirits with the East Wind
Let my third eye be opened wide
To once more gaze at the new world
Let my gurus teach me once more
Let Narada’s music and dance
Reverberate within me now
Resonating with soul’s tethers
Let my appetite for questions
Never be sated or ignored
Let me feed upon the unknown
I am the Immersed One at first
I am the Twin in the middle
I who am fond of Horses last
Beseech you to attend my call
By my three names, you know who calls
Come now, come and gather by me
For a friendly get together

…

I do not know if it was all a delusion
When I met y’all four years ago
But this is worth a try

I want my poetry
I want my writing
I want my thinking
I want my imagination
I want my dreams
I want my madness
I want my energy
To mean something again

Was it a Dream?

I hear these crazed whispers in my dreams
Blending fiction with reality

I converse with spirits no longer
Benign entities that I once saw
All around me, in the clouds on high,
In the splash of rainfall on concrete,
In the shadows of trees and buildings

I hear these crazed whispers in my dreams
Blending fiction with reality

I am not sure of anything now
Did I only dream his rage, last night?
Was what she said to me last a dream?
Did I really screw it all up then?
A thin line twixt here and fantasy

How can a man live,
when he cannot rely on reality?

Grief and Loss

I have been thinking lately (people tell me I think too much), about my past. Not of my lost home world, and my 1000 years of home sickness, but the past of this identity and body( I grew it in a test tube and took possession of this human shell when it was one years old. My Earth parents think they’re keeping my adoption a secret, but I know all about it).

I realise now that any good and redeeming qualities I possess now, (the alien part of my life is weird and convoluted, so I won’t launch into explanations about the seeming contradictions of this post), can be attributed to the efforts of my human mother’s parents.

My human father abandoned her a long time ago for his career. The times he came back to visit were harsh on me, though my human sister was spoiled rotten by him, so she didn’t care. His return meant an increase in my mother’s unhappiness and subsequent yelling. She can be very cruel when she loses her temper. As a result, I hated him for most of this avatar’s life.

I spent a lot of my early childhood with my grandparents. My sister was born later, so she could not experience the joy of living with family like I did back then. My grandmother had been a school teacher, and my grandfather a biochemist. They were both retired by the time my avatar was born.

They had a beautiful garden, where I would dig holes for hours or climb the mango tree. My grandfather put up a swing made of a tire’s inner tube in the early days, but took it down later (I do not remember why. This avatar has a malfunction.)

They had lived in Madison, Wisconsin during the 50s, 60s. My grandfather was involved in that research project to synthesize DNA (RNA? I forgot), which won Khorana the Nobel Prize. My upbringing was a mixture of Eastern and Western cultures. Since my mother and her siblings had all been raised in America, my thinking was heavily influenced by the English West.

My grandmother used to write rhyming poetry on cards for everyone’s birthdays. I think that this is where my love for poetry began. Sometimes, she was the only person who encouraged me in my endeavours. I could not handle it when she passed, though I did not show it. My grandfather’s passing was more gradual, so I got used to it.

My mother and I were praying a rosary for him in the hospital at the time of his passing. He suddenly sat up, took a deep breath and I was overjoyed that he seemed to be full of energy. And then he died.

I wish that my sister had gotten to experience living with them the way I had.

Fear and Confusion

I played a game once, at a seminar. We were broken up into groups and asked to state one quality (a good one, I assume) to sum up our characters. So, people went, ‘I am diligent,’ ‘I am caring.’

When it was my turn, I couldn’t quite get the point of this, and thought I might not have been clear on the rules. So, I said, “I am confused. What are…”

“Confused😂” they broke out in laughter. For some reason they saw me as a non-conformist after that. One of them even called me a ‘funny guy’!!! The nerve of him. All I wanted to do was ask a question.

I do not know if I am a non-conformist, but I do at times feel like I’m a stranded alien. When I find my crowd, I can get so happy and high, but I inevitably mess things up, either because of a misunderstanding, a tantrum, or some good old fashioned ghosting. I can get too depressed to talk…or move…or eat.

I’d like to think I am older and wiser now. A thousand years old, means I’m an adult now. A voice in my head goes, “you’re just going to mess it all up again.”