swirl it round and round

I swirled around your words
sometimes wisdom
many a times trivia
neither a lethal moment

my tears turned to laughter
or vice versa
so much emotions hinged
in the in-between silences 

morning turned to nights
nights into dawn
exchange of mind did not end
as it could not identify time

I know, it is not true when they say,
it's only words.
and words are all I have,
as you see me beyond that

we might not exchange a single word 
for weeks to come, 
yet the silence will make us
gravitate towards each other

"friendship is too mild a word for what we share,
the day I lose you, I will need to call it that"

tipsy fingers play footsie

hand on my hand
evidence of strength.
smooth sensuality changes gear
subtle shift of bare sensations
rest in the small of my back
light touches of the fingers
ignite the skin,
refresh volatile thoughts.
will it last
that bare white emotion
nine is only a number
gassed into bits
five is my destiny
when I enter your mind again
after eight hours
my hand, your fingers
banter with each other,
then coming into their element,
play the erotic dance
rawness of which amazes me still

"taming the toes was never a duty,
why then I curl my feet?"

Meditating for being one with you

Meditation on the Harp by Salvador Dali

you give me all of yourself,
trusting me enough to bare it all.
your vulnerability was always
known to me somehow,
even without your saying so.

you open yourself to me,
a very big responsibility for me
to care, to nurture, to keep you safe
within me. the same way
you keep me safe within you.

you complete me;
fulfilling that part, the vacuum.
I was in a slumber,
you woke me up
with you I am sincere to myself.

the great master
painted us the way we are
in the recesses of our minds;
the harp playing for us
for eternity….

"yellowed clouds are amused
while you excite me, I excite you back"

twisted into shape

Figure Eight, 1952, by Franz Kline

a sorry sketch of figure eight
a caricatured horse
twisted into oblivion
who cut into sharp edges
would it not endanger?

"meaningless madness is a hazard
not some misshapen metal
-a treasure for an artist"

spiral

 Expressionism: View of Toledo by El Greco (1541-1614)

candles flicker
I hear a jingling sound,
and cower under the shadows of that tower
why, you ask?
I shake my head at the clouds
dark, ominous, intimidating
the tower seems harmless
I slowly climb to top
the city unfolds
(error in my judgement about the tower)
I now know my mistake.
with half a smile
I watch two bears fighting in the clouds
the trees sway in the drama
their laughter reaching the sky
tower stands tall vindicated,
and enfolds me in its embracing warmth

"when do I realize that
I have been totally fenced?"

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

 This painting is from 1596-1600. Yet seems very modern, as if from the present period. El Greco must have been a visionary.....


Thanks Poetry Jam, for making me explore various forms pf arts...

escape

under that tree I kept it hidden
the sheen of your sweat
which had flowed for me in desire.
who dug it out,
along with my sensuality
which I had  packed inside a bubble?
the air evokes you for me,
moving in a lumber way-
now it blows too fast
leaving a wreck behind.

"I will again create a bridge and reach out for you"


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Writing another keepsake poem was tough. I don't think I succeeded. Thanks We Write Poem for using my prompt for this week

frustrating frustum

I see the atmosphere spiral down

the cut shell makes a naughty sound

wonderful tactic to distract me

that rotation is not the zenith

even though I know its importance

what lay on that deserted ground?

why did you look so forlorn

lying with your feet crossed at the ankles;

nonchalance that reached out to my soul

I wanted to hold on to the slices;

to focus onto the unrelenting elements

"the point is broken, I hold the frustum

staring into an unforeseen future"

falling apart

when the sole of my shoe fell apart
I twisted my ankle
my knees gave away
I fell on the ground
my shin bone hurt
my elbows balanced my body
my cheeks pressed to the ground
I give away to tears
why when everything was going good
my shoe fell apart
taking me down
(serves me right)
I will not hitch a ride
I will muster my strength
from the wine I drank
in the late afternoon

"I want to call out, where are you 
but who cares?
I will sleep hugging the earth"

a captured momemt

you walk out in a huff
your plate of food unfinished
I run to the door to call you back
but you are nowhere to be seen
feeling sad and vulnerable
I walk back inside the house
and sit at the window
with a blurred vision
my thoughts in a turmoil
I wipe my tears, look out, 
see you talking on your cellphone

you sit inclined on a concrete sidewalk
your head bobbing up and down
I curse the person at the other end
you pocket your cellphone, 
sit there with a calmness that jars me

"is it my figment that I see the delivery boy
delivering a pizza to you, and you open it
close it again, and walk towards our home?"

hambre

the vibrations
permeates into me
I try to transfer those to you
will you please accept it-
letting me have my way with you
piece by piece...
I....hunger.....for.....you
you.....hunger....for....me
why don't we let our bodies
follow our mind and hearts

"come admire the bond,
those silken ties......silken ties"

jumpstart

in my universe
it was a landmark
I turned eighteen
jump started life
already in college
studying intricacies of chemistry

just another day that dawned
eighteen, eighteen, eighteen

starry eyed
I had a flawed logic
all was well with the world
perfection I saw in everything
idealism was my motto
backing out wasn't

just another day that dawned
eighteen, eighteen, eighteen

next five years set my course
with ups and downs I sprang forth
I lost my love
numbers rendered sanity
chemical equations 
replaced equations of life

just another day that dawned
eighteen, eighteen, eighteen

that impact has lasted till date
I eject out flaws
and move forward
children show me the path
I pretend I do
a mask no one understands

just another day that dawned
eighteen, eighteen, eighteen
I am yet to preen

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

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads have set a Musical Challenge, to "listen to the song(s) while going through your personal history, revisit pictures and memories and write a poem which will be your own chant". To know more check it out here. On my 18th birthday, Jump by Van Halen was number on US charts. I am not happy with my efforts but I am leaving it as it is, for now.

while the instrument plays

The Snake Charmer, Henri Rousseau, 1907

I yearn for an opal ring
with a verve
I want to strengthen my bonds
with that snake charmer
I fake a yawn
while my heart races
he rubs his fingertips on his instrument
while I pick the threads
in the mirror of snake eyes
his muse has raw edge
in the corridors of betrayal
he offers sheep to the snakes

"I find omen in that dull opal ring,
thrust that dagger deep into him"

spoken inside the head

I tackle the pawns to the ground
the rook runs backward
I move forward with ease
it is like a movie you know
where pictures overlap
I may work for the king
but I covet the queen
she ignores me in the day time
yet night's distractions make her close
I might have taken to the robes
you don't understand my secret desire
the pace is slow or fast,
let the queen decide
as I don't care for omissions

"I like to see things from cock-eyed perspectives
slithering up the diagonals"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't take credit for the last line. I edited it just a bit. It came from someone who creates pictures for us, where the beauty and ugliness of the world go hand in hand. He makes sure we understand. I can't name him here but he will know when he reads my poetry.......

hitching a ride in rusted trails

abandoned to erode
that wheel has tales to tell
I don't care to know
I think of all that I lost in snow
hazed snow of the mind
layered by layered
light is my focal point
stirring from dawn to dusk
resting in the darkness
to rejuvenate the heart
when I pick a rusted nail
I sandpaper it
observe the rust fall to ground
I still don't care.

"Can I hitch a ride from you to go to the next town?"

red of life retreats in a cart

he drags his feet
hiding his face
that red umbrella gives him cover
(the red bag is a dead giveaway)

grilled door barred his entry
he had to retreat
lonely as a finger
(his mumbles unheard by anyone)

his stance, no one recognized
so unbecoming
yet a part of him
(nothing can penetrate his psyche now)

he walks on in the rain
dark clouds thunder over him
his profile blurred now
(his kindness muddy under his feet)

"if only he had held on to the wheels
the cart wouldn't have been abandoned"

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


It has been more than 10 days since I wrote anything. My words were clogged and refused to come out. Today they did, and let me hope, they are out for good. I am not pleased with the above poem but happy that I wrote something...

a mute question

I mold myself
is it viable-
what you ask of me?
tall order
a promise
extracted from my soul
would I let go-
a mute question
you can cut a part of whole
you don't see gasp of horror

I find you again, and again,
lose you every other day
to what, I know not

ashes of radiating electrons

my dreams are not for display
you can't see them
you don't want to see them
you only help in creating
myriads of nightmares

I let both merge
and photograph the images
drenched in reminiscences of you
when you will hear voices
I will be immune to that

my body will rise beyond it
I will stay awake all night,
night after night, 
while you edit me from your life
with your paring knife

let me collect the ashes of radiating electrons
and build a shrine from those

hibernation revisited

I want to hibernate for eternity
but the earth's gravity
sings a teasing ditty

I want to hibernate for eternity
but life's nitty-gritty
spares no pity

I want to hibernate for eternity
but this piercing city
offers a diversity

I want to hibernate for eternity
but the bear, who appears to be smutty
sings me a ditty

I want to hibernate for eternity
dose or medicinal quantity
make me feel bitty

"I quit being a minute entity"

hibernation

I want to hibernate for eternity
but your banter stops me
I fumble in the ground
and glance towards the sky
and write a letter 
copying from the etched teardrops

I see my girl pal, cycling away afar
and run towards her
we both pedal away our moods
she her adrenalin,
I, my hibernation plan!

cloaked mask

it happened again. yet again.
penny dropped
i did not see it

i had left that ending hanging
even though it jiggled to the extreme end
i ignored the title early on

trying to plant seeds
you pulled those out like weeds
you hid me from the earth

i thought it was to protect me
i did not see that my invisibility
gave you that escape

i was only wrapped in the quality of that cloak

while you danced gleefully in the safety of several

"build a cenotaph for me, and be more joyous"


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


For a few weeks now I struggle to write. I am unable to pen longer verses, even short ones are not coming. I am not even making rounds to read your poetry. That is another downside. Hope I get back to writing soon. When muse dies, I feel half dead. Any poet/writer can relate to that state.
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