Sweater

you trace the soft lines

the slender loops

and the soft designs

with a lazy, wandering gaze

 

the questions and curiosities

sit comfortably silent

 

you do not ask

and I never tell

 

that you are the softness

that lingers in distant memories

you are the warmth

remembered across centuries

a constant in the sea of time

a love, never owned

but forever mine

Colour

what colour would you give

to the warmth

that sits inside the folds of your hands

touching mine

 

what is the colour

of time unraveling at your feet

melting, flowing

unhinged, free

 

what colour would you give

to the light in your eyes

as you reach and pluck the day

ripe for picking

what colour, indeed,

is the shared silence

that speaks of a love

needing no words

Secrets

I am a poet

the secrets I see
in rehearsed caffeinations
are mine to keep;
to stay within
to stray without
clinical boredom
or clerical doubt;
how you paint
is how I write
to live in words
in sound and sight;
but these margins
and white space
have a different story
and a different face;
if this disguise
is nothing but grace
the soft folds
of satin and lace
then what they hide
is softer still
a whisper hushed
by a lover's quill.

Weather Songs

The wheels of time turn
each epoch into a new story
and looking out
the sun always finds
some new odds and ends of existence

these blue elastic days
stretch an empty story over the margins
vying for a drunken dream
and a burnt sky looks back
with a worried look
when small talk runs dry

the rain is silent when it comes
its presence felt only in
the softness left behind
and the green sings
a new song of remembered words

how can I possibly not sing along?

Mornings

the restless birth of a new day

surrounds me

as I swim through a sea of lives

the chaos is contagious

its howls drown the roar of time

which ticks away

so inconveniently

and interrupted so

with a voice that sings of infinite love

a fable from forgotten times

no one remembers the lovers

or their ambitious love

the speakers fall silent

and chaos returns

to swallow the echoes

of their presence.

#101DaysofPoetry Day 9

Silence

this is no poem

the love and lust of language

lies buried

between the lines

leaving behind traces of better times

the words unravel

at the tip of my tongue

at the edge of my thought

and I sink deeper

into a silent sea

where the calm is the storm.

#101DaysofPoetry Day 8

Halves

I am one whole of a half

All but one

and then some

Between a cozy oblivion

and a searing chaos

I am what you call

A piecemeal person

This patchwork persona

is my design

A cannibal with a conscience

and an uncertain taste

I taste of contradictions

The twin flavours

of love and loss

A shifting gaze

that finds stories

yet unresolved

And voices that speak

more and less

than what you hear

I am, it seems

both the ruler and the ruled

I lead, by example

my rebellious tools

And hold my own

in this no-man’s land

As long as I can.

#101DaysofPoetry Day 7

Ocean Eyes

The oceans in her eyes

Crash against the ragged edges

Of his midnight breath

He tastes like the infinite sea

Sets the air on fire

With each careless touch

Flesh and Blood

Or smoke and mirrors

They can never tell.

#101DaysofPoetry Day 4

#NowPlaying Soulfight by the Revivalists

Voices & Words

In this army of voices ringing with angst

Yours was the loudest

And you let us ride this surge of power

We felt it crawling in our skin

We felt numb and, together

We wanted to break the habit

And we heard your voice

Talking to us, reaching out

From the unknown depths of your being

But how far deep does one need to read

Between the lines

To trace the words back to the source

To feel the contorted syllables

Not only on the tip of our tongue

To read the silences which echo everything

That could not be put in words

And now, the silence speaks

But our countless voices join together

To keep your echoes alive

Till the end.

And it does matter.

#101DaysofPoetry Day 3

#NowPlaying Leave Out All the Rest by Linkin Park

#RIPChester

Source

To Be

Unreasonable

Can you feel the power of this word?

Erecting electrical fences that spell out in crimson red

“TILL HERE AND NO FURTHER”

When you spread your wings wide

And prepare for the flight

Not knowing that your feet are glued

To a very ‘reasonable’ ground

Growing roots so thick that might suffocate a poor life

But ‘Unimaginable’, now that’s your word

As it rolls off your lips and the tip of your tongue

Dancing within your cavernous mouth

Up and down and up and down

Can you taste the adrenaline yet?

It is the wingless flight high above those fences

It is the mad dance of feet reclaiming the empty roads

It is Life, spelled out in crimson red

A thousand reasons to live

Versus one burning desire to be

#101DaysofPoetry Day 3

#NowPlaying Gloria by Umberto Tozzi

Blue & Green

Blue like the taste of waves

She comes through the unhinged dreams

Lingers at the tip of the tongue

And to my hidden depths, drops unseen.

Green like the song of morning dew

Between a full silence and her honeyed voice

And the silken folds of her smile

She brings me home.

#101DaysofPoetry

#NowPlaying: In the Mood for Love by Shigeru Umebayashi 

Disquiet

This is another page
in the book of disquiet

the trembling reaches the hand
before the first word
and Fancy drags it away
from the paper
to draw winds and wants
on the curves of dry air

my skin absorbs the dryness
and with every bend
I hear the cracks
from somewhere deep inside

what is it that breaks
that wasn't already broken?

maybe the deluge I hold back
dried up and seeped into the bloodstream

if writers do bleed in words
I have bled too often
too little, perhaps

fate draws me up

with a free hand

maybe there is nothing left to comprehend

somebody forgot to mention
how comfortable ignorance could be

Search

The mind is a fickle master

Who tires as much from reality

As it does from thoughts

Light as air

Heavy as lead

It bears a load too great

Too willingly

Too shy , too desperate to share

Often, I offer her rest

In the dregs of a glass

"Go to your happy place", I tell her

"Forget those faces

And the smell of air hanging heavy 

With forgotten songs

Forget the taste of words you no longer speak

And the sting that waxes and wanes."

"Instead, dive deep into the dark abyss

And hold your breath.

With unblinking eyes, find the new life

And claim it 

Before you catch up with yourself."

At the far end of things

I will let her unravel

And find herself.

Run

The only problem in running away
Is you never know
Where you are headed

The world opens its gaping mouth
To swallow you whole
And you don't feel a thing

Does it matter
As long as you put distance
In between
What was and what would have been

The only questions that sting
Ask how much farther does one
Need to run

You wonder about the famed escape
Or if it's only the journey
The process of escaping
That matters

Will I taste freedom in all my limbs
And, intoxicated
Make love to one and all and him

Or will I feel its first sting
When the little scrawls on the page
Reveal one that once answered to "I"

Maybe find a footing
In this tragic circus of life.

The trick, perhaps, is to not let your soul take roots
Just in case you need
To run again.




#NowPlaying

Knowing

The door opens with an easy laugh
That is how I welcome you in
Notice the fresh paint
The walls smile, don't they?
Step closer and you will see
A thousand different stories
Hanging in the air
Take your pick of these gems
And you can begin to understand
My own beginnings and ends.

This is what I choose to show you
But this is not all of what I am.

If you linger in this freshness
From moments to months
Chances are, I will make you stay
Find ways and means
To build bridges and barricades

And when, on reckless nights
Down, way down we go
Into the wilderness
Into the promising depths
Where walls and words both crumble
And the rage of forgotten thoughts
Pulls at those buried within you
You might not recognise me
Though I hope that you might know me.

But know, that this
Is what I choose to show you
And yet, this is not all of what I am.



#NowPlaying

Loose Words

And when the words on the page start fitting in together
You let your stray fingers
Comb through the tangled threads
Of meanings and memories
And voices
Condensed in space and time
Within the curves and confines
Of simple, over-used words
And you breathe in the life that was
When you said that word out loud
The last, the very last time.

You shrink back into your old self
And look at your old life
With new eyes
And with hands, that still tremble
At every pull of needle
Its silver length cutting through the crimson abyss
And stitching cliffs back into shape
You let loose words to fill the air once again.


#NowPlaying

Happenings

What happens when the heart no longer craves
For what was lost
Doesn't look up at the sky
Thinking if this would be the same shade of blue
Twinkling in his eyes
Doesn't catch words from conversations
And conjure stray stories
Doesn't look back with a silent sigh of longing
Through closed doors
Betting a lifetime on what-ifs

What it does instead, is unclench itself
As it looks away from the dark silent doors and into the light
Blinded and unable to see two-feet ahead
It takes a thousand and one swift steps
Leaving behind a smile for old time's sake
As memories rip it open one last time

What happens when a heart finds itself in a free fall again
I tell you, it decides to beat again.





Note: This song explains the mood. My latest obsession - Leonard Cohen.

The Other Language

I do love a good laugh,
Especially the way
Your humour
Travels faster than light
From your eyes to mine.
Bending space and time
Taking the longer round-about
Of hyperboles
And inside jokes
And nicknames too dirty
To hide behind
Our conspiring smiles.
When others hear
What I speak
You know what I say
And know that my words
Make half the sense
They claim to make
To which you reply
In off-target nudges
And ill-timed winks.

Co-creator
Of alternative language!
Blind me with insight
And rattle my funny bone again
Come, match my step
In all the madness
Of this tragic joke called Life.

Note: This goes out to a friendship that has created the best and sustained the worst. 
A., thou art loved!

Durga

The brown of used tea-leaves
Streaks her tousled hair
And he fits in the palm of her hands

Touched and tricked by sunlight
The crowd of heads
Bows down
To look up
And sun chases the glitter
Till it melts in the smoke
Here, prayers burn with every puff

Is it the thousand atoms of ash
That hold her stare
Or is it her painted lids
That dare not close
On the agony of a strength that never falters
Is never false

Is it the thousand prayers
That chain and drown her
Is it the thousand claims
Laid upon her

What is she, if not the mother?
Perhaps, she is the universe
Choking on dirty water

Durga Series by Sharmistha Dutta

Take a look at the complete Durga series by Sharmistha Dutta HERE.

Insight

The real problem with pretension
is that of leakage,really.
We never know what it is
and how much of it
that seeps into our soul

We could be more honest
if we dared
Plant fences with no peep-holes
Around ourselves
With ugly graffitti warnings
And look out at the world
through the cracks
We see too much and too little

Why would we
make the same mistakes again?

Poetry should exist for a better purpose
than bleeding through words
and decoding patterns
that form on blotting paper

We can comb through it
The paradoxes and half-truths
And find blunt insights
in this crimson swamp

But to be honest,
We'd rather not.