Tail-Ends of Conversations

Dear Readers,

I know I’ve been gone a while. Here’s a little something to show for it. Hope you like.

Paper and ink,
I always think,
Are never to be left alone.

Tail-Ends of Conversations

Whimsical Dining Room Ceiling


Tiny Bobblehead

It’s happened more than once;
My gaze turns strange
And a face shrinks
Till it looks miles away
In an expanding room.

I half-expect
Time to freeze
But you keep bobbing.


Limited Freedom

And to be fair
I’ll let your candid spirit set me free
Beyond the oceans and the graves
But only for a minute;
I never pretended to be brave
Like you.


Never Change

So, you found something
Something you didn’t know
Not an earth shaker
But, it kept you up all night?

In this day and age
You’d rather wonder
Than Google;
How precious, I say
Eyes full of smiley tears.



It’s a pixelated world
With people to match
Bored, lonely and caring,
Much like the other world,
And riddled with scamsters
Who prey on the new
And the gullible.



It’s the box;
It holds
A giant watchful eye.
It reads my soul
And swallows me whole;
It tells me what I’ll like,

Where have you been all my life?



Should I be surprised
To find calling cards
Scattered on the floor
Of a casino parking lot?
Which flavour of beauty would you like?



The counting of thoughts;
It bothers me.
More of the same;
Add it to the bundle.
Just another,
Just another;
I’m being crushed.


A Simple Life

Passed and forgotten,
Remembered and missed,
Crudely denied,
Sorely suppressed.

A life lived.
Yet twisted
In a million ways.


Familiar Footsteps

‘Tharump’ ‘Tharump’
‘Tharump’ ‘Tharump’
Scrunching my nose;
Don’t like this path
Beaten it one too many times
Reached the point of doubt:
What was the initial pull?

Left a sticky mark on me
When I should’ve left
After leaving mine.


Summer Braids and Serenades

Summer braids and serenades,
Start the mint train
With the dainty wheels
That treat the pavement right.
An old friend knows why
I can’t climb a bicycle
Without thinking of tea leaves and rain.


Yours whimsically,
Anna Nymus




One day, a girl set out to college. She did her major in Procrastination and a minor in Introspection. She found what she was good at and where she had to struggle. She searched for the reins controlling her life and stumbled across things like “post-modernism” and “existentialism”. There were others in the same hunt, torn by the same questions, doubting every step.

All the while she was handed skills that were supposedly the key to success. She focused on sharpening the ones she found fun, and the ones she thought she might need to survive.

Then one day she pondered the meaning of success. What was it? Why was it so important to get it? What would the key open?

The homework piled up until it was sticking out of her bedroom door and she sat defeated, head in hand, waiting for the rain to wash away her stress. Questions and doubts about everything popped into her head.

A few deadlines and nights of high speed typing later, she still doesn’t have too many answers. But she knows she’s never going to know what the key is until it opens something.



Whispers of Life


Life. A series of suspension bridges. You never know where one ends and the other begins.

Life. Neither here, nor there. But, somewhere in the midst of the moment.

Life. Indescribable. All-consuming. Devastating.

Life. In the minds of millions.

Life. Compressed into pages, pictures and songs.

Life. Heard with your heart, seen with your soul, and lived with a load of laughs.

Life. I see beauty, I see pain. I can see them in a drop of rain.

Life. With the promise of death.

Life. Larger than itself.



“Searching for Meaning”

Dear Dreams,

Dear Dreams,

I live a different life when I’m with you.

When I go through periods of seeing you vividly it’s easy to question which life I walk in matters more.

When, in one, I can fly across endless grassy fields and fondly familiar places; when ease and intensity is the order every night, there is nothing I can compare it to. During such times, I am left with one unwavering thought. Life is as beautiful as you are. No more, no less.

When I think about how one would not exist without the other, it gets more complicated.

It gets worse when I come crashing down, into the wasteland of my own neglect. When I begin to hate reality with an undeserved bitterness, and I have to face the unreliable side of my little slice of heaven, there is nothing I want more than to loop the time we had together. Wipe my mind every time the cycle repeats itself, so you don’t lose your vitality and newness. And I can keep the danger of losing you at bay.

Some things are out of my control. You can be such an elusive creature at times. I admit, that’s part of your charm. But, the moment has come to bid adieu. I know a lot of people have missed you while you’ve spent the time with me.

This doesn’t mean I won’t see you every now and again. It just means I won’t depend on your promises and the hope you inspire. I don’t expect anything. And I promise to be surprised with every visit.

P.S- I have met no one like you in my universe.


Awoken Anna

Dear Early Morning Freshness,








Dear early morning freshness

That sweeps past me as I rush to class,

Trying to slow time,

But it never ceases to pass.

It’s some comfort to know I won’t be the last,

Just one of many

Always in a hurry

Living a life that only grows more fleeting and fast.


I do so enjoy when you visit my dreams,

Mind you, not when you break them up

By their delicate faerie-winged seams.


Oh, early morning freshness

That I never greet as an equal,

Why do I feel better and more myself when you leave?

When in the day can I just watch you be?


But, enough of silly questions

When the answers are in your name.

Your failing to greet me

Will no longer bring me shame.

You see, holidays are a wonderful thing

Even if they’re meant for studying.


Goodbye, early morning freshness,

I’ve found another oxymoron.


Hello, study holidays,

Let’s have some fun.



Grumpy-morning-faced Anna