Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Wednesday, May 11, 2011


And then dreams
Long and persistent
Take me off to you beloved you
Not unlike when all in me turns cold
I should find life vigorous and strong
Ringing the bells
Of my soul’s dingy door
Asking permission
To let me be again

And in the day the sun comes shining
So tender in me you melt
Leaving only
An impression of warmth

Monday, April 25, 2011

The Irony of Love

He advances towards her with heavy steps that evoke no motion in the sand beneath his bare feet. The urge to burst out and evaporate into the air now abandons him; it’s hurt so much it doesn’t hurt any more.
   She sits two footsteps away from where the waves hit the shore. Her eyes flash to the sky. An eternity ago, she could tell time by the position of moon; now, though, everything stands transfixed.
   As their two haggard entities intertwine, they feel it digging its way through the holes between them and a dream-like past, it crashes them and yet binds them together; and as they hear its sinister silence lurking beneath their tears, it becomes impossible to elude…they have inhaled all the glow love had, and now, it is time to be burnt by the fire.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

To you who is no longer there

I will fight all that's tempting me to be poetic, and I"ll catch words as they come.
  I try to imagine how things would be like if caught by a camera. I shut my eyes and paint everything in sepia. And when the world fades to black and white, I wish for colors resurrecting it. But at times, when soul breathes into life, I find myself crashing within the tempests it evokes.
  And I envy the characters in movies; free from existence, but in their folds, you can see all the tiny complexities of how it is to be alive. It's then when I weave myself into one.
  I just need to tell you..there is nothing intricate to me; draw a line between a million drop of rain with a black pen and I will be the image glittering behind your eyelids.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Scene Zero

Behind a screen
Of red green blue
She is entrapped
And breaks
As luster abandons
Her eyes once so luminous

And before him
She stands
In a white paper
Suffused with her
Painted in
Colors quite different

Between never and forever
Both dance
And tear off the heavy
Garments of now
But the curtain has
To eventually fall
And instead of the end
It’s written  
That to love
There is no moral lesson

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

In The Nonexistence

In the morning
Sometimes it’s just
Too hard to breathe
Your porcelain skin
Not two inches away
And I can’t reach out to
Touch it
Touch you
In the nonexistence
I run

But I can't elude

That everything you mean to me

Is always  meant to be


Tuesday, March 22, 2011

An Old Friend

It’s an eerie sensation prickling in my ribs. But now, I can’t stop to think or to define; whatever feeling wants to invade me I’ll give silently in to it. I can’t feel my feet as his own advance towards me. Within seconds, I am submerged with memories…
 Alfred’s arms wrap around me, and within his arms I cry. My tears are not feverish, but they are wrung out of my very soul. And when they fall, they are carrying but a tiny weight of my grieve. “Don’t marry him,” he whispers. I evade his glance, always capable of discerning the deepest of my insecurities, and say, “ I Love him.” I hear a heavy sigh out of his nostrils. ‘Are you sure?” he retorts. I squeeze my eyes and out of my thoughts, dispel all the doubts. It takes some time from me to reply, but at last, I do, with yes as my answer.
   “You know, we gotta buy carrots,” James says as we walk towards our home.
  “Why?” I ask, surprised.
  “I’ve read today in the newspaper that carrots induce the chemical responsible for the feeling of love in the brain.”
  “Those scientists, they really get on my wicks.”
  “I know,” he smiles crookedly.
  “So you read that carrots are romantic and love is the outcome of chemicals, and I read that the brain stops secreting those chemicals after a number of years, some say three and others say seven. So perhaps, one day, while walking down the street, you’ll find ‘the love chemicals’ bottled up and gruff voices calling, ‘Love for Sale’. But you know what, the ‘chemical love’ does exist; it’s when your heart beats fast and all the other crap. If that’s the love they mean, then no wonder it’s bound to disappear. And in what way do you think we love each other?”
  “Our heartbeats may not synchronize, but our thoughts do.”
  “So, is that to last forever?”
  “Only time can tell.”
“You are cheating on me.”
  The question or perhaps the statement resonates through the room exiling all to silence. I hold my breath as a heavy ‘Yes’ falls unto my ears.
Me and him, we are so far away, I think, as I contemplate his face, few paces away from me, and yet, so far away. From his expression, I sometimes try to fathom him, to decipher what flows within his heart; but forever and always, it’s a poker face. And I know, that under his stillness, more than I can imagine is simmering.
  I once thought that we think alike, and he too thought the same; but as I look at him from across the room, I know his thoughts don’t interest me as I know it’s the same for him.
 I walk towards him with steady steps. He takes notice of me and lifts his gaze. “I’m pregnant,” I say.
  So many years I’ve wondered if what I felt for Alfred was the doing of chemicals in the brain. And the very fact that I thought of him still would rewind me to the saying of the forbidden being desired. Out of all that, I had to extract love; I had to pour all in my heart in a filter and observe: what fall right through the cracks are the other things, and the dense thing persisting, is love. But I was never able to do so, and all the question marks were succeeded by no answers.
   I smile at myself as my heartbeats start racing. Just like before
  “Mommy!” I tilt my head, taken aback.
  “What’s it Tommy? You startled me!”
  “Tommy….that’s a cute name.” I turn back to see Alfred standing behind me.
  “Oh thanks,” I slur, with my hair standing at one end. “So how is life with you?”
  “Well I travelled…a lot, worked a lot and been with many people and felt myself with none. What about you?”
  “As you can see…”
   And we keep on talking for hours. As the time of departure comes, I look back at him and smile.
   “Mommy, who was that?” Tommy asks on our way home.
   “An old friend,” I reply.  

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Which is Which

They say,
“To hold your faith,
You should keep it blind”
You’d open your eyes
 And see
It’s just the darkness

And the screeching voices
Pull you back and forth
Torn between
A hundred falsenesses
All having the title:

Beyond it all
There lies a challenge
In a time less
Than your years on this Earth
Can you pick one difference
Between two pictures
Called “Facts” and “Lies”
And tell
Which is which?

Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Deceit of Words

I carried two heavy weights with my hands stretched before me to test my endurance for pain. I tried to resist myself and found-even when I succeeded- that "self-resistance" is the trickiest of all terms; I could go there, let my hands down and say, "I have resisted and succeeded," and it'd be nevertheless true; for is not the "good voice" part of the self too?!