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Do you hear that?

an ode to being an adult human being

By Mesh ToraskarPublished 12 months ago 2 min read
Top Story - July 2023

I turned 22 and it only got worse from there.

I am increasingly relying on sating my hunger by feasting

on the happiest episodes of strangers

on the internet,

but last night when my phone screen lit up,

someone had gone missing, again.

& I rolled over, went to sleep, hungry instead.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Somedays, I just stare at a picture of me

clicked in the kitchen,

holding the coffee mug with my lover's unshakable stains.

Moonlight was leaking through the window

dominating the wan glimmer of the refrigerator's heart.

& I was not sad

& the flavours of the city I love

lingered in my mouth - my only mouth

which was not yet a graveyard

for all whom I loved and I still had room

under my tongue for anyone who'd love me.

***

do you hear that?

It's the last workday of the month

I and some of my colleagues celebrate the crisp cash

in our bank accounts,

what a shame it is to spend it

on half-baked freedom.

in this town where much of the joy is lost in the need to hold it

in this town where the mailman unfailingly hand delivers my debts

and asks me to consider myself fortunate

enough to just have my name on anything at all.

***

A wave of anger rises with the rising water

that separates my brother and me

and the land between us has grown

more treacherous.

In the blood-soaked earth,

seeds of hope and yearning

for a coveted return to their distant home lands are sown

by reluctant hands.

& nourished by the baptismal waters

of a girl who never returned home

just around the corner.

& tenderly the seeds germinate.

birthing roots of fractured innocence,

and shoots of silenced laughter.

***

I hate myself for letting that poet in the park

(fingers dancing on a typewriter,

choreographing verses with a rhythmic clatter

like of raindrops drumming upon a tin roof

under the skies where children look up

for bombs)

somehow successfully sell me a world

where kids sprint barefoot,

through sun-drenched fields of golden sunflowers,

petals kissed by gunpowder smoke.

their heads swaying gracefully like men in formation

marching in the graveyard, they can't see yet

as the summer breeze carries whispers

of both life and strife,

the air rich with earthy fragrance

and lingering battle cries.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

I hate myself for letting that poet in the park

sell me a world where

no house burns at the end of love,

all surrenders don't end in blood,

and people dance to the sound of

machine gunfire.

where the fragrance of a comet's tail

seduces comatose constellations back to life

and stars are not just stars but

portals that open only long enough

to forgive ourselves.

***

so do you hear that?

the sound of rain

leaving footsteps on my heart

and the way my heart turns them into

heartbeats.

the sound of my back

cracking

as I carry the weight of my deads

as I learn everything about love

through the absence of it.

***

social commentarysurreal poetrysad poetryheartbreak

About the Creator

Mesh Toraskar

A wannabe storyteller from London. Sometimes words spill out of me and the only way to mop the spillage is to write them down.

"If you arrive here, remember, it wasn't you - it was me, in my longing, who found you."

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  1. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

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    The story invoked strong personal emotions

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    Writing reflected the title & theme

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    Zero grammar & spelling mistakes

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Comments (20)

  • Rob Angeli11 months ago

    Scent of cremation grounds of sentiment, but such ineffable beauty. Love it!

  • Dean F. Hardy12 months ago

    I hear it.

  • This is beautiful. Comparable to the works of old. Congratulations on the top story

  • Congratulations on your Top Story😉🎉

  • Bugsy Watts12 months ago

    This is powerful. It starts slow, then moves quicker like feet trying to keep pace with the increasing tempo of a drumbeat. Gripping.

  • Mackenzie Davis12 months ago

    YES!

  • Cathy holmes12 months ago

    Wow. This is just fantastic. I near speechless. Well done and congrats on the TS.

  • Gerald Holmes12 months ago

    This is outstanding. It is one of the best poems I have ever read anywhere. You have a talent unmatched. You should be very proud of this. Congrats on a very well deserved Top Story.

  • D. ALEXANDRA PORTER12 months ago

    No words in this mere commentary will touch the depth of your mastery here. Therefore, all I will say is, "Thank you!!!"

  • Jazzy 12 months ago

    Congrats on TS!!🖤🖤

  • Dana Crandell12 months ago

    "Deep" doesn't begin to describe this. Masterfully done and a very worthy Top Story!

  • Ashley Lima12 months ago

    Congrats, Mesh <3

  • Babs Iverson12 months ago

    Emotionally moving and surreal!!! Congratulations on Top Story!!!♥️♥️💕

  • Judey Kalchik 12 months ago

    Oh goodness! So happy this received Top Store recognition!

  • Real Poetic12 months ago

    This really sucked me into your world with your words. Congratulations!

  • Mackenzie Davis12 months ago

    I truly cannot fathom the well of your poetic heart, Mesh. You continuously stun me with your words and ability to express such deep rooted and sublime feeling. Allow me to address a few areas I found particularly noteworthy. The ENTIRE STANZA from “a wave of anger” is beyond words for me. “tenderly the seeds germinate. birthing roots of fractured innocence, and shoots of silenced laughter.“ You remind us of the missing person from stanza one, and it stands here as a sharp painful contrast to three things: your feelings of bleak adulthood, missing your family(brother), and seeing the corrupted world you exist in. It is truly a mark of deep thinking that you have been able to weave these together as you have. To see a missing girl and link her to a feeling of kinship, even in a twisted, unequal way, to how you feel apart from your family is just an incredible poet moment that does not diminish the emotional heart of its reality. I cannot leave out this part: “where the fragrance of a comet's tail seduces comatose constellations back to life and stars are not just stars but portals that open only long enough to forgive ourselves.“ Holy f@&k. Do I have words enough to digest this to you, and all that it means? The world of sorrow in these words, of looking to the stars for forgiveness, is an image I will never forget. Your final stanza is pure magic. I hear your heartbeats as false heartbeats, driven to continue living through the woes if the sky itself, a sky that perhaps holds some bridge of shared connection to those whose love you are absent from. I am not crying 😭.

  • Judey Kalchik 12 months ago

    You take the words and knit a vest of outrage and sorrow- this is a deeply glorious poem

  • Donna Renee12 months ago

    This is really speaking to me this morning! So many fav parts but “in this town where the mailman unfailingly hand delivers my debts and asks me to consider myself fortunate enough to just have my name on anything at all.“ — even this rather mundane daily thing, you’ve managed to make me see as so much more!!

  • Gosh, this was so emotional! I loved it so much!

  • Ashley Lima12 months ago

    you have a phenomenal way with words

Mesh ToraskarWritten by Mesh Toraskar

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