artist in the attic

one day
the boy found three old oil paintings
in Aunt Ola’s attic

from a shaft of dusty light
streaking through the attic window
he examined the landscapes

there were vintage subjects
of men working fields in Europe,
paintings of a cottage with
thatched roofs beside a stream,
and a wolf howling at the moon
in a snowstorm

he had never seen a real
oil painting before
he experienced a feeling
going through his entire body
he had not known

he knew that day in Aunt Ola’s
attic that he wanted to be an artist
he wanted to paint beautiful paintings

Aunt Ola told him that they
were painted by her great uncle
she said he had no formal training
said it was a natural gift of God

she knew the boy liked to draw
maybe you will
be blessed with the talent too

she told him he could have
one of the paintings
thrilled he picked the country
cottage by the stream

he jumped on his bike
and hurried home
he ran into the house and
told mama and daddy
that he was going to be an artist

mama smiled, daddy said
artist don’t make no money
mama looked at him again and smiled
he knew she understood
he would become an artist
and make mama proud

She’s down to earth but when you’re with her you get a sneak peek of what heaven feels like

When I hold your hands, it’s like the perfect fit like we were built for each other

When I’m with you the birds chirp louder, the suns shines brighter and the air feels fresher

Everything that I envisioned in a woman is right in front me each day I wake up.

You’re the missing piece to my puzzling life

You’re the wife that everyone wants but can’t have at least that’s what I thought I had

Each day I was with you I made it as it was our last

Each minute we were together I made sure was memorable but I was blinded not to see that it was one-sided

And I said to myself when I vented that, “I now realized that I made all the effort in our conversations and days out”, while you were with someone else you were all about

One side of me always suspected something but for too long I’ve been without intimacy so I ignored the red flags that were waved

See I confided in you and told you about past lovers that left me in the blues but you saw an opportunity to cut open new wounds


You said you always showed me your true colours and that you found something unique in me and I was a fucking fool to believe that was true

How do you do such a wicked act? disregarding another feelings then have the audacity to question when they react

How does one live a secret life and on top of that keeps it all intact for so long?


I know for a fact that you thought the cat was safe in the bag but what you failed to see that it was transparent for the someone with the vision I have

Congratulations on what you were chasing down when you were with me, you’ve now lost someone that’s a dying breed and would’ve been all yours to keep.

MASKS

Everyone’s got a mask,
Some have few, others have many.
Masks of different emotions and attitudes,
Masks which seem so real and bona-fide.

Even I’ve got a few masks,
Which I often wear.

I wear them cause I’m scared
From the penetralia of my heart.
I’m scared to let anyone know
The real me.

I fear if I’ll ever be accepted,
Included, and understood rightly.
Thus, I wear masks which
Meet their expectations.

Yes, it is indeed suffocating
Inside those masks,
But I can’t let anyone,
Shatter me into infinite pieces again.

Other’s may have their own
Reasons or motives to wear
Their masks too.

Yet I wish if we all had the
Courage to drop our masks.
That one fine time when everyone
Is nothing less than real, and
Let the strings of life
Play melodies with
No disguise.
Krishna N. Lodhia

family attics where a persons life gathers dust
time and dust cannot obscurethe significance
ilike that