tumbled thoughts in a silver tumbler

I don't recall how but it started as joke-
I told my mom I wanted all my old things
my mom handed me that tumbler,
a small one of tarnished silver,
edges now rounded,
I don't remember each and every mark
but she does.
(I had made them by throwing it in fits of anger)
she said, "you always wanted the same tumbler
to drink milk, water or juice
somedays you even hid it from my brothers."
no way, I tell her,
I was ever ready to share with one brother-
I was always hanging around him,
even when his friends visited
he too indulged me,
he would have bought me the moon
and stars thrown in a good measure
if I wished for it
also the way I was ever ready to do
whatever he asked me too
(he never did)
I stored my share of goodies for him
(which he did take once in a while)-
the same one who is estranged from us now.

I put aside that tumbler
and I ask my mom in a desolate voice
does he ever think of me, of us?
will leverage of our love remedy the space?
I want my feelings to reach out to him
my tumbler of love and affection to overwhelm him
I fear what if it doesn't,
will I survive, will my mom survive?
I hug that small silver tumbler to my heart

do we need any reason to love?

whose DNA was she carrying?
a question she couldn't answer
drugged, gagged, kidnapped
for five years she had been lost to him
out of mind for all those years-
caring for their daughter kept him sane
when he caught up with her
following all leads
in that snowbound villa
he found 22 of them, including her
most of them pregnant
some barely recognisable

how could he leave her,
now that she needed him most-
now that he needed her most
miracles found her again
love would get them through
that would their mantra

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

Updated@ 18:55: I should have mentioned it here that this came after I finished reading Snowbound by Blake Crouch, a thriller, to be published in July 2010. A very disturbing book. My verse is review of sorts although I will write a full review soon, on my other blog.

guts wrench out in the open making a spectacle for all

I believe that at times one just needs to write about love, irrespective of everything. I don't know where it came from but it just did....


not knowing how to flaunt my passion
i flounder at showing it to you
if you only gave me a chance
the gates would open up wrenching us both
how do I tell you about this constant craving
this deep sated need for you
which eats at my guts and fills me with longing
words cannot convey my loneliness to you
yet I know you sense it
although you would rather not acknowledge it
how do I pour out my love for you
your very thought heightens my senses
I wish I could reach out to your very soul
and submerge myself within you
at oddest of times tears fill my eyes
unknown to me visible to all
my minds speaks to you
yet I know I can't reach you
walking away is easy for you
just let me know how do I do it
nonchalantly, just the way you did

yes, I will live but barely so
for a long time to come or never

plunging in the tunneled abyss

thinking of neither past nor future
I give in, disregarding my sane voice
only a feeling, nothing else to hold on to
I can't measure the highs, I don't wish
to think of the lows. each one of us has
tried to define it, a few being successful,
most have failed. nevertheless, that has
not acted as a deterrent. we go right in,
plunging in the tunneled abyss, unmindful
of everything, least of all, the consequences;
giving in to the ecstatic moment of it.

"should we not ponder over, why is it called
falling in love, when it takes us beyond the sky?"

untitled------Monday Poetry Train

deciphering words
amidst tattered pages-
resulting from folding
refolding,
of yellowing letters,
wrapped carefully
with love.

a single tear flows.


This is for my mom. She was going through my dad's papers. She found a wrapped bundle of old letters. Those letters were written by her to him. She never knew, he had kept every single one of those. I did not intrude on her privacy. Someday, I hope she allows me to read those letters.

I could not find any appropriate title for this.

photo courtsey: google images

More rides on the train...

Never Enough

This is one of my rare love poems. I thought I should kick start the month of May by writing one! I have deliberately left it incomplete. Just the way love is never complete. There is always that craving for more...and more...

Never Enough

indescribable, beyond comprehension-
my mind reaches out in desperation

love gushes, like rains going on for days
my heart attuned to yours in everyway-

warmth of your love encompasses; transcends.
my craving for you has no beginning, no end.

depth of those feelings cannot be fathomed,
this state of being is nothing I have known.

come to me, listen to my heart and mind call;
your presence would soothe my restless soul.

hold so close that you brand yourself on me-
I drown myself in you as in bottomless sea.

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