Undead

Every morning I dig your grave and make an obituary with past tense in my speech. Every night I dig you out and whisper warmth in the present cold wind.
Every day I light some wood and turn some scribbled notes to ash, every night I write something good to burn such scribbled hopes to ash.
Every day I brave the chill with a laughter cutting through its fog and feign,Every night I spill some tears that make the morning mist again.
Every day I let go of the remnants of a corpse of once a life, and every night the ghost of it haunts and holds on for dear life.
Every day I jostle past the debris of the structure once, Every night I build the wall and leave a stone still un-turned.
Every night and every day , I could put either one to end, To let it perish or to cherish to break and then to never mend.
but what is it the night or the day , I could live it or take it to bed.
Though not life, this is not death in choice and thus compulsively so Undead.

November Nougat Nostradamus.......

One cup, two cup pouring in the porcelain,
there's brew in my blood and my tongue in cream.
Novembers is such dreaded winter dream
and Nougat to the flavor is a sweet relief,
 some Nostradamus penned apocalypse
I can take them all in one heavenly sip.

EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA...... Honesty redefined.

Lets say that I dislike you , I express it without sparing thought or mincing words and then stick it up your face.My dislike suddenly becomes despise and my despise turns to hatred, just as you perceived it to be. Worst case scenario.

Instead I hold it back, go through a laborious process of  critically evaluating my thoughts,behaviour, inclination and with the tested,time trusted measures that I apply to logical affirmation and reconsideration I announce that I disapprove of certain factors and make a rational call.We sit down on a table and discuss evidences, circumstantial and otherwise.

Indeed, Honesty is not always the Truth just as Passion is not always Love.