when did I forget?

how about I quit everything
go in a tangential path

where sky has a velvet feel
earth shakes out all my fears

in the crescent of your eyes
I find a path in tiny crinkles

my oldest pair of jeans can still walk
I forget tatters all over again

"a quiet observation, reflects so much"

musically yours

that elegant singer had created chemistry
he was enjoying the interlude
loud music with no substance was more his style
soothing notes were for weaklings
shadows on the walls appeared so normal
were his thoughts grotesque
pyramids over pyramids of it?
his work was all done

"when the opera started again,
he daydreamed some more"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I edited the following heavily:
pyramid of dreams

a statement

Photo Credit: Greg Laychak
a statement-
I see in your stature
that fierce independence
is never far away
fuchsia, pinks and whites
merge with the grey
you redesigned that window
to usher in the orange-yellow sunshine
I walk out of the frame
corridor swallows me in

"that path can contain only you,
while I remain in the periphery"

hidden

the furniture, they know my secret

deep in their belly, 

they hide my amber scarf

I have looked for it everywhere

found spots of soups 

we used to share

and a single coin

few beads

your gold cuff link

I found a breath too

yours or mine

I can't say

"do store in Pandora's box"

order of the day

there are days,
I remember tossing out
of that side broken window. 
I can't recall the contents of those days.
I have gone out numerous times
to pick up those days, 
however, someone else has taken them-
maybe reused after dusting.

"now that window is mended
I want the days back in their proper place"

sliding through the gaps

I picked a sensation-
turned it around,
I let it mingle into me.
when the unexpected turn came,
my mind went blank for a while-
but I did not pick any weapons to fight;
choosing to let it go

"I create worlds in my mind

they all fall apart

yet I  go on creating more"

homing

I leave the indentation of my head on your pillow,
and walk out of that door
you wake up to find me gone
but I am there in the folds of your skin,
stray hair on your shoulder.

"when my feet walk to the bamboo fields
you will find me there and get me home"

lost in a maze

a place I don't recognize-

I try hard to do that

I am stuck in there

in the midst of nowhere

when I try to take a step forward

I go four steps backwards

I am lost in the maze-

a maze of my own making

"can you please chart an escape route for me?"

dissolved

let me hold your tiredness
and those troubling thoughts
you have, will disappear.
I will dissolve all those in a chemical
of my own making,
the scent of which will engulf us.
I will add our combined forces
so that no negative thing pitches out

"I will attune it all to flow smoothly between us" 

rivulets of space

spaces. unseen spaces.
can you parade it between us-
tangible in its wake
I leave my space to smile at your a boyish charm
a flame gasps and slips in between
I let it defy with my typical thinking
a space can't question it

I put my elbow on my thigh,
go into a trance
creating bit more space

"we can let it melt later, merging it with musty rivulets of ourselves"

days and days..

I would rather celebrate old stuff day
rather than panic day
why don't you celebrate check your batteries day
while I bake a circular pie on pie day
on the international day of asking questions
you can ask my how I do everything right
that is my birthday,
so I got to do everything right!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check out Weird March Holidays for the above!

thousand odd words

bloodied rays make it a red dawn

a lone hawk circles the fields

scoops low to catch that mole

in the coolness of the dawning day

I huddle near the window

a pen in my hand.

my journal has fallen on the ground

yet I am writing

my mind sees images 

and writes on the walls of thoughts

in that poetry book of mine

the blank pages speak thousand odd words
and create imaginary dragons

lined up...

that house,
with quaint windows beckons me
I peep inside.
wavering shadows hide something
outside sunshine enhances the depth of darkness inside
I rub the walls
the crumbled powder of blankness
engulfs me
I imagine a dog sitting at the door

"headhunters have placed the heads on the inners walls.
what ails them, I wonder?"

tears of the sky fall to the ground

Photo Credits: Rey-Mundo

the sky was angry in the night
it fired onto me
it had the right
I had not asked to touch it
the space I took from the sky
it gave it back to me again
by cooling it with its tears
frozen though
I call it snow.
on the blade of one my branches,
some child will come
and pull at my hand
I will let it hold me
I will let him swing on me
tears of the sky will fall to the ground
mingling with the earth
and I will float to the sky
I patiently wait for that child 
and his friends in the orange light

"remote held by sky, I grind to ground"

singular thoughts

Photo Credit: Flickr

why did he not see my  shoe,
I had worn that for this photo shoot
he only took one,
I had taken hours to get ready
I borrowed your coat
shirt from my son,
sweater from a street dweller
what was he thinking
about my perfectly placed hat?
my gnarled hands show my character
that stick now my sustenance
in that war I fought for freedom
when landmine took away my limb

"I had wished for all to see my shoe, 
my only shoe, on that foot I still carry
in the evening of my life"

nutty nuts

almonds

pistachios and cashews

I look at you with longing

macadamia I thought was a country

until I tasted it

my heckles rise with hazelnuts 

walnuts are my brain food

pecans I tasted only once

peanuts are ubiquitous

pine nuts I have by the handful

apricots are appropriate sweetners

"dreamy, creamy, yummy drive me nuts"

a raw rant

a recurring rant
rendered raw,
railing in there
my rank is rather low
rut created by you set in deep
why can't you remember
I am not my brothers
I am the daughter
you  never understood
somewhere down the line,
you stopped me from rotating

"yet you rallied for me
when I wrecked my heart"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for this rant, but I needed to get it out. The "R"s helped and so did the limit of 55 words! More than enough, I would think!


Update: When I posted it, I was rather very angry. Not any more. So I interchanged couple of sentences. And it is no longer a rant. I could have taken it off. But am letting it stay. As a reminder to myself to control my anger.

I write footnotes here...

by riverside I sat with closed eyes

he was reading out to me

what he uttered barely registered

his voice flowed mellifluously

that was my anchor against stillness-

a stillness which frightened me

I felt his chin touch my shoulder

I turned towards him

when I opened my eyes

I saw the invisible abundance,

smelled the intersected air between us

"feet by feet, why do we have to measure distance?

singing soprano

crumbs of bread on that table
wedge of a mango falling out 
of that pickled jar
I evade the chaos
unbuckle my gloves
and sit down to make a list
leaky tap reminds me of Mozart song
that list  I make goes like this..
I need a few sopranos
some notes to go with it
maybe that opera singer too
Bach will not do,
Beethoven is not what I wish for
I only need music
loud, noisy, nonsensical
that will clear the chaos you see here

dead woman and her wants

dead woman wants a clock, one that records her space in a time of her choosing
a space that can't be defined by demarcations, but by her aura
dead woman can't emit an aura, and that makes her sad and she sits down to cry
her tears can't be seen, or felt by her but they flow heedlessly
a mirror, dead woman wishes to see herself in that, all her glory revealed to herself
if only glory could be changed into an object, she would be glad to do that
silence of the dead woman is so deadening, that it scares her too
she strings in the silence, wears it on her neck, wishing someone to buy it from her
dead that she is, yet she wishes to educate us about her ghostly appearance
shadow of herself is so interesting, we can see myriads of colours reflected on sky
swift movements of the ropes topples over her, she is so dead, yet she lives

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am hooked to the dead man's poetry. I find that it gives me the freedom to pursue my thoughts in ways, I can't explain or understand. But I like the outcome. I feel so liberated after writing these pieces. And for the last two days, I was thinking maybe my muse is going to die. Dead man's poetry WILL get me out of it.