Categories
short poem

Thoughts

I come here to say the exact same thing
For the warmth of your wing,
I’m tired of the know-it-all world
of being here, terrified and curled.

Poets on the streets say, it’s okay
Encouraging us to live another day,
Who knows about the next second?
Society is crying, stressing over.

You see this world will never know
Nor do they care anymore, now,
You and I, we all are going to die
let’s, just once, try to fly.

Categories
poetry

Allegory

We talk about grass
the way one talks about earth.
You can argue that
it’s the same thing
but honey, it’s not.
Earth is the one who nurtures,
lets the life grow
out of it
and have enough strength
to support life.
Earth is a mother’s womb,
heart of a father,
The eyes of the couple won’t/can’t be convinced.
Grass is life.
It can’t grow on its own,
It can’t see
how green it is
or how beautiful
the world think
a vast, lively field is.

Categories
NaPoWriMo

Colour of beach bark

She smelt like the old stories
The Ones my mother sang,
her huge house was a shell
a garden,
lacking only a spring.

She told us tales
of people who left her behind,
I was in awe of all that she had
And what she didn’t.

Her daughter was of my age
A pretty face and fragile hands,
A girl, surrounded by people
A girl, no one could understand.

I fell in love with her boy
The walking beauty
of our gloomy beach,
His heart was a sacred place
a glittering thing, I couldn’t reach.

He’d walk on words
and swim in love
But we failed to keep in touch.
My memory seems forgotten
like the book you don’t miss much.

Categories
Haiku

Haiku

Writing is cool
Words in my tired head
To read is to live

Categories
poetry

Chemical Hearts

I failed to check the alphabets
and ended up writing about love.
Once you asked me
how to write a poem on love
and I’m still searching for words.
I was trying to know love and poetry.
So I held my pen tight
and hoped for you to see the ink flow
through my fingers,
droplets dripping from my nails
to the hem of your shirt,
but you stayed there,
without a word
for none of us was ready to speak.

Well now,
I’m looking at your hands;
painfully beautiful hands.
I’m trying to reach out
and hold you.
Your soft, tender palms
come crashing me down
like the fresh waves at dawn.
I recognise the hands
I never held,
like your fingers were
designed to fit in mine.
But
Neither of us is ready.

Each day feels like a product
product of last words.
Words are crushing.
We’re yet to learn language.
Both of us are
waiting
for the other to speak.

You already know how this works;
I let you hold my hand
when we’re crossing streets,
Neither of us is bad at it.
Neither of us is ready to let go.

Categories
Prompt poetry

Skinship

Kafka said “all the love in the world is useless when there is total lack of understanding”. But, how do you make someone understand love?

Fear is a toothless beast.
I see you move across the house and wait for you to see me.
I have been writing on the shape of your mouth; it’s been days since you held me close.
I wonder what you think of the colour violet, you still love it?

I close my eyes
and you’re still here.
here and there
– everywhere.

Quick sand is diminishing through the hourglass. As if wind is carrying me away from you. In a flash I see you, then you’re gone. I’m taking care of flowers, lilies are blooming. You left me a candle of darkness.
I’m longing to feel your touch, mother.

Categories
poetry rant

Connections

“By convention hot, by convention cold, by convention colour, but in reality atoms and void”
  –  DEMOCRITUS

Conversations are tricky. It takes courage and tremendous conviction to initiate something without knowing how a person would respond. Our culture teaches us to be brave, to get up and join a group of people and be a part of the conversation; to be the tiny atom that makes this ever evolving universe. In other words, they say you’re only alive when you’re connected.

I hold on to the atoms within me and hope to see the world within my hands. Contrary to popular belief, world cannot be experienced in a particular way. I think it takes more than few words and couple of meetings to know someone. For some, it takes a lifetime. For some, lifetime is just one day. Sometimes, a day feels like a lifetime.

How do we connect? Will sharing what I’m feeling make anyone reading this my friend? Are connections that easy to build? How are people, people like you and me, are to survive this? How do we connect when we cannot even talk or lack the strength altogether?

Sketch credit: Bharath

https://ridiculousbharath.wordpress.com/

Categories
blog anniversary gratitude

285 days.

Hey! Hi! And Hello!

I am still counting days? Well, I think I’m good at it. How I missed being here and how I missed my 3rd year anniversary here! Anyways I’m trying to be back and feels good.

It’s been long and I’m kind of looking forward to it, this time (again). I have read all the mails and I have noticed many of you coming back here and reading previous posts. I’m truly grateful for this affection and trust.

Let me know how you all have been. And I know many of us don’t like to say that loud in comments, so you’re welcome to share this via email.

Be well. I’m yet to catch up with a lot of people. I’ll be writing here shortly, 1 post/week for the time being .

~šŸ§œā€ā™€ļø

Categories
poetry rant

Shadows

How do you manage to keep going
without the urge to throw yourself
away?
How does it feel like hearing everything
but your own heart?
Does it really get better with time?
Do layers of skin mange to cover it all?

Tell me how you escaped the pit
of rusty flowers decorating
humnae need of art,
Is there a way to escape your shadow?
Have you made peace with it all?

Deep down, in your heart
does it shine bright like the day?
Or is it pretty like the sky?
If you smiled bright
and visited be places
Would it matter?

Tell me,
Does it get better?
Tell me,
Is there any way out?

Categories
rant

Seasons?


It’s almost dawn and like any other day;
I am looking for something to hold on to.
A popular and supposingly brilliant quote “you find happiness when you look for it” is here again but I feel like Iā€™m done.
How can I look for happiness when all I feel and see is my failing attempts to understand it? How do I define something I have never experienced?
The weather is as confused as I am. Sun is yet to set but it’s too cold for April. Trees are leaf-less yet flowers are ready to bloom. They said spring is early this time,
but what is spring?
How do we know what rain is, when it’s raining? How is downpour so precise?
Where do all these seasons come from? Are wants seasons?