What if this is all there is?

What if this,
is all there is?
What if this..
is as good as it gets?
What if this is
as far, you were
meant to be;
And everything
that you ever
dreamed about
for the future,
were memories;
Being carried on
from a past life.
A past where,
you had it all.
A life where,
you made it all.
And yet you still,
wiped that slate..
clean;
Just for this!
Maybe you had
everything.
Everything,
but happiness.
Everything,
but satisfaction.
Just an empty,
dark void..
That you could
never manage to fill.
Maybe the purpose
of all your sorrows,
all your struggles,
all your happiness,
and all your
experiences;
Was to bring you..
Here.
Here,
in this present;
That you
so carelessly
discount for
being a lot less,
than it is.
This present,
that you never
fully learned to
appreciate; Because
you were always
too fixated about
filling that void.
The void that
cannot be fulfilled.
The void that robs you
of the present,
that is the present;
While keeping you chasing.
While keeping you running
after uncertain tomorrows,
as all your todays
Have come and gone.
Each one of them
having failed,
to satisfy you.
Wouldn’t you regret
not enjoying this,
a lot more?
Wouldn’t you regret
not living; while
you could have..
If you realise,
At the end
Of it all..
This,
was the best
you could have ever had?

© Jay Kaushal

Photo by Jay Kaushal

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The rain is my friend

…And the rain
Knocks on my window
Like friends pulling you
Out of your bed
On a Friday night
When you’re in bed early..
You’ve lost your job
Are too depressed
And broke
To want to drink
Or smile
Or even be able
to afford either
Even if you wanted to…

© Jay Kaushal

Image credits: http://www.pexels.com

New poems every Wednesday & Sunday..or anytime else inspiration strikes..

Resurrection

Don’t you dare
Give up
On your dreams.
Don’t you dare.

Don’t you dare
Convince yourself,
You’re not good enough.
Don’t you quit!

Even if your pockets are empty
Your fridge is empty
Your health is waning
And your bills are all past due.
Don’t you quit!

Don’t.

Even if they keep telling you
That you’re crazy.
Keep telling you
That you’re done,
That you’re finished;

Just Smile.

Rise again
From your ashes,
Like the phoenix.

Recognize.

Life is breaking you
Bit by bit.
Killing your ‘self’
Day by day.

One day this old ‘you’,
This weak you,
This hopeless you,
This defeated you;

Will be broken.
Will be dead.

One day, a new you;
The real you,
The invincible you,
The indefatigable you,
The conquerer you;
The greatest version of yourself..
Will be born.

But before that,

Like the phoenix,
You must burn.

Like the phoenix,
From the ashes of your old self..

YOU must be born again.

© Jay Kaushal.

New poems every Wednesday & Sunday.

Sorry for missing our date last Sunday. I had gone backpacking in the Himalayas. 🙂 I’ll post about it soon!

The power of your dreams

You could lose,
Everything; in a second.

If you do,
Would you still want,
What you want right now?

You could be wrong and lost,
In the dark woods of confusion.

If that happens,
Would you still keep walking,
This path you’ve chosen?

You may sleep tonight
And not wake up tomorrow.

If you don’t,
Would you regret,
Not finishing what you started?

What if you’re just too fed up;
And eager to surrender, one day;

If you are,
Would you find the courage,
To get up, and not give up;

In this dream of yours?

If you have a dream,
Bigger than yourself;
Stronger than the elements,
Tougher than your tough times;

If you have a dream,
That makes you believe,
In yourself, your purpose;

A dream that keeps
You striving, moving, fighting;
Despite the worst odds,
Rejection and failure;

If you have a dream,
That is keeping you alive,
Even though life no longer allures;

I promise you my friend,

Even death does shy away;
From a man so driven.
Until he has fulfilled,
His destiny.

© Jay Kaushal

If you liked this poem, you will also enjoy reading another one of my motivational poems named Until I Win

Picture Credits: ‘Ship In A Storm’ by Willem Van De Velde the second, 1707

Note: New poems are uploaded every Wednesday and Sunday around 12 PM GMT.

The Graffiti Artist

‘The Graffiti Artist’ is a poem about a painter and how he started painting walls.

Paint!
Said a voice in my head
Paint !
It cried once again;
As I stood before
A sorry crumbling wall;
With holes in it,
Loose bricks and all.

“But what’s the point?”
I shook my head
Beginning to walk away.
“This wall is done for.
It’s just crumbling away.”

What will I gain?
Putting my art and
My sweat in vain?
This pent up art
Inside me, is meant;
For far greater expression.
To fritter it away,
On this junk; is
An insult to creation.

Paint! Beseeched the voice.
Paint…Just to paint..
Like all the things,
You do just to do…
A decay in surrender,
Has but no meaning.
Dissolve me in colour,
Pray paint me too!

Give me life; even if
Like a false hope.
Even if in passing,
Let me be seen;
By those passing by.
Walls all around me,
Are painted so lovely.
Some yellow, some orange,
Some green, some blue.
Fill me with colour,
Even if in death;
Grant my last wish,
I pray to you.

Give me a meaning,
I have never had.
Give me an identity
That I never knew.
Heal me with colour,
I need you to.
Let colours this time,
Rain on my wounded
Bricks; like clouds do.
Paint!
Oh paint me too….

© Jay Kaushal

Wall Calendar

If you were gonna die today, would you still be spending your time the way you are?

‘Tomorrow’
Is here again,
For you;
Today,
My friend.

Yesterday you said tomorrow.
I hope today,
You just
Get off your butt
And start right away!

–Yours truly,
Much feared, Rather ignored…

Wall calendar.

© Jay Kaushal