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Oct 5, 2010
Peace;
The day and the night united,
Owls smile, pleasantly delighted
And all feels well
When dawns the twilight.
Migratory birds
Reconnoitering with their mates
During the pleasant
Jetstreams of spring.
The currents swimming underneath
The brilliant blue of the sea;
The warmth and the chill are a hurricane
Let loose; set free.
If the world can reunite
And reach it's rightful paradigm
Why can't I have you again?
Why oh why can't I?
Oct 2, 2010
Snowflakes glitter under velocity of night,
None the same as any other,
Decorating the palm of a little child,
And the ruffled hat of her mother.
Fascination douses her eyes,
The child examines the intricate, hexagonal, perky one-
And in the strange velocity of night
That very snowflake managed to find her.
On the drive home, her hand was cupped
Around that little fleck of snow,
And at home, she made it a bed in the freezer,
It's identity she seemed to know.
She sees only corpses and snowflakes
On the train, on her way to work,
And one day, she finds you-
Intricate and hexagonal with a perk.
The geography of your face fascinates her
And the complexity of your molecular structure,
Her cupped hands await,
As does a place in her heart of a strong tincture-
And she has found you-
Her little snowflake of childhood,
The destined reappearance you guaranteed-
Her unique snowflake of manhood.
There will be no one like you,
Her eyes confirm;
She will treasure you to her last breath;
And maybe, she is to you a snowflake too,
That you will savour,
Until your very moment of death.
Oct 1, 2010
If I Didn't Have You.
0 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 10:11 PM
Troubles are such a blur
If you're there, in the end, to talk to;
The ghosts of the night are invisible,
After that midnight conversation with you.
Scares me now to imagine myself,
Going on without you to guide me
How could you always be there,
In the end, a lifeboat in a stormy sea-
If I didn't have you
I can't imagine a life
Where I'd still be living this happily.
If I didn't have you
I can't imagine what I'd be
Without your much-needed company.
Like a church pew of confessions
It's hard to reveal
All that I feel about you.
And though it may seem like I don't need you,
The truth is: I do, I do.
Broken-hearted, a mad little witch
I would be without your presence.
You can take away that insanity,
And make it yours too, participate in my nonsense.
All the good people in the world
Are good because they have someone like you
With them to stop their bouts of madness
The world needs more friends like you.
If I didn't have you
I can't imagine a life
Where I'd still be living this happily.
If I didn't have you
I can't imagine what I'd be
Without your much-needed company.
Like a church pew of confessions
It's hard to reveal
All that I feel about you.
And though it may seem like I don't need you,
The truth is: I do, I do.
Sep 11, 2010
Dream A Dream Of You
0 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 12:05 AM
That dream left me empty in the morning;
I woke up to find tears in my eyes
And lead in my heart,
And a half-choked sob at sunrise.
But it was all underscored by longing,
And that tired feeling of belonging
That has been severed helplessly
Meandering carelessly...
-----------
Elation rang through my persistent knocking
And the wood would crumple with the intensity of my hope,
And when it swung open, anticipation burst out,
I could feel its power alter my horoscope...
And then there you were, changed, present,
But I saw the pockmarks on your face
My emotion make me weak at my knees,
And then you started closing in the space-
I saw disease on your face, contagious and hungry,
Afraid that unity meant a disadvantage to me,
I stepped backwards and saw your face fall
But that face was devoid of your old expression, you see.
Reproach was there. But I saw discomfort,
Just like you must've seen the art attack in me,
I was afraid to move closer in case I caught your disease,
The longing in me was begging to be set free
Time must've passed as I absorbed you, you!
How much a heartache could make me love you more,
Afraid to speak, inside, I spoke too much,
In mind, my throat was already too sore.
Pieces were dislodging from my calm resolve,
Emotions started to blur my vision,
Here, you have changed so, so much
Since our unwilling, forced, heartbreaking division.
I would have hugged you if it wasn't for
The pustules of illness decorating your face,
I would have sang to you the song in my heart,
If I hadn't left my words back by the staircase.
When the words counted,
They came out like faint whispers,
Inadequate for all I must've felt.
A wedding cake is far too big for just one to consume,
So they give you just a single slice and then the celebrations resume,
Likewise, I gave you just a slice of words,
Because the cake of speech of too much to fume.
Tentative words, but a paragraph of questions
Were hanging ludicrously in the air,
And your tone of voice of such a poise,
Cascaded down your straight, dark hair.
We met like strangers, talked like strangers,
And little by little, my resolve gave way
I told you nothing that would be too dense
For your compehension, so strange today.
And the pauses,
So loud.
They spoke too much.
-------------------------------
Am I afraid of the change in you?
Am I afraid of our increasing divide?
Am I afraid of the breach of commnication?
Am I afraid of you choosing the other side?
Or am I just afriad of you?
These same tears were threatening to spill over
This morning when I awoke from the dream,
When I saw you uncomfortable, backing away,
Much to my terror, as it did make me scream,
Slowly turning to run away, up the stairs,
Paling into transparent mist,
With a young heart slowly shattering behind you,
Distended by a growing cyst,
And then the awakening, the realization,
That it was just a dream, so out of the blue!
But rolling over, the dangerous thought-
What if you and I, in the dream, were true?
Sep 3, 2010
Fridays used to be exciting.
The end of the week, the freedom,
The eternal opposition to boredom,
Fridays used to be about the variety,
Talking and walking without propriety,
Going shopping at expensive stores
Even though your wallet has gigantic pores.
Fridays used to be about fun,
The family and the love,
Manners kept at bay
Where a push became a shove.
Fridays.
I dread going back home.
Family means something different now,
Maybe it's because I'm so alone.
Monotony awaits once I get off the bus,
It's essence strikes me as foul as pus
I'm not really home at all, home is something different now,
These rooms, my personality they never allow.
It's hard to bid family farewell,
Head down the stairwell,
Take the bus to outer space,
Stand on an unstable base.
A home is not a home,
If a Friday is not Friday
If family isn't family
And a friend isn't a friend.
Sep 1, 2010
Heiroglyphics on tombs never fade
The hearts carved on trees never fade
A dot of permanent ink will never fade
The need for family will never fade.
But memories, so set in stone,
Dissolve into the jetstreams of the open sky
It's time that decides to wilingly pry
The happiness of our past from our hands.
Sitting silently sometimes,
Regurgitating the painful emotions of absence
Hating myself for forgetting, little by little,
The cost of love, pence by pence.
My apologies; I don't mean to forget you,
You just seem to fade away from my conscience..
Pixels of you disappeareing one by one,
And a blank canvas stares back with confidence.
Aug 31, 2010
Pools of pity,
Thoughts clandestine,
An ache lights up the sky,
Watch a shooting star fly by,
Forgot to make a wish.
A glimpse of the green leafy trees,
Heard the sound of the birds and the bees,
A picture the colour of the sky at midnight.
Wondering what grass feels like,
Craving the first touch of the scales of a pike,
Just a sliver of summer air,
And the taste of a stale autumn pear.
Dancing children, just the sounds of their laughter
Laughing carelessly about a happy ever after,
It strains my eyes but I manage to see
The flapping wings of a bird set free-
Retreating to The Den,
Longing sets my heart on fire,
There was never another site
That I would admire
More than the sight of the freedom that awaits me,
Glimpsed through a fracture in the wall,
Caging me.
Aug 20, 2010
It doesn't feel like the world anymore
The sun's gone and my eyes are sore,
I had nobody but you,
I only ever had you.
Though I know you're still there
Across the desert somewhere,
I don't know you,
I don't remember you-
If I can't hear your voice again,
Or see the expression on your face again,
There's a pregnant pause,
I can't shatter it with applause.
All this while I've been seeing the rainbow,
Without knowing that there'll never be a pot of gold,
Seeing but never believing,
To myself the lies I sold.
Now there's just holes,
My deluded paroles,
I try to fill them in,
But the effort feels like sin,
You know I can't ever move on, so why
Do I even try?
Jun 8, 2010
Where there is light,
There is hope,
There is a will and there is a way.
When time is infinity
There is patience
There is finality, there is a last day.
Though grains of sand take time to fall,
Though the wind takes time to blow,
There is always an end
For which you pray.
The fruits of patience and labour are the sweetest,
The oceans of time spent waiting are the deepest
And there is always an end in sight,
The light at the end of the tunnel is bright.
For months, I've been waiting, patient,
Longing to taste the glucose of success
But fate has toyed with my sanity
It has poured on me hopelessness in excess;
Waiting doesn't seem so bad
When there is a life to live, lessons to learn,
But when the saccharine saturation point is felt,
There is every pen to throw, every book to burn.
Freedom is close-
So tangible, I can taste it,
So velvety, I can feel it,
So prominent that it runs through my veins;
If I reach out, I can touch its wispy tendrils
And entwine them around my fingers.
There is still hope for me,
Where a silent warrior lingers.
Jun 4, 2010
12) Defining Poetry
0 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 3:44 AM
Bulging eyes, a wheezing chest
Eyes twitching without much rest,
"You don't like poetry?" I said to you
You nodded tersely, you claimed it true.
"Poetry's lame" I heard her say
It was her mantra for each new day
"Impossible" I countered her thoughts
Like giving value to a bunch of naughts.
"I'll tell you what poetry is" and I opened my arms
She asked me what I was showing her: the sky? the farms?
Nodding, I pointed to the pole star, the sheep, the stream
I pointed towards the land that lies before us like a dream.
The innocent bubbles of water, gurgling like children
The babble of it as it crosses over rocks and by the playpen.
The darkening shades of the electric sky
And the flutter of wings of brids as on the town they spy.
I run my finger across the coarse grains of sand
The thick blades of grass, the contrast of parched, cracked land.
I gesture at the smallness of fleshy dewdrops of the morning
The hues of ochre oranges and sun yellows as night is dawning.
She looks confused, swept by beauty for sure
But to her, the message behind this land does not lure.
She doesn't see the sadness in a dog's slanted, hazel eyes,
Nor the hurt swimming in the tears the dark sky cries.
The swaying happiness of long stalks of wheat
The horrid chunk of many knives slicing through meat
The ebb and flow of the tide, a message, a symphony
The masquerade of life, the spectrum, raisn of melancholy.
Don't you see it? Don't you feel the rush of wind?
The cool breath of it in your hair, your gasps are pinned;
Don't you envy the listlessness of leaves?
Or how night darkens the jutting eaves?
She shakes her head. Now I feel angered by her.
She doesn't know the beauty of the smoothness of fur,
The uneasy trickles of time, ticking slowly by,
The rust on the rails as trains pass,
The movement of the planet and its many entities,
The constant sound of noise, the feel of life, the taste of wetness
The sight of energy and the smell of roses.
The sight of energy and the smell of roses.
I am sad that you don't see through these masks
I am sad you don't see life pass on by
I am sad that you don't realize the world moves constantly
As if it is keeping itself from saying goodbye.
;;
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