September 28, 2012 § 31 Comments
She stirred his words
with both her hands,
mixed them in a bright
in-your-face shade of pink,
stirred some more,
picked up the bowl
containing the final mixture
and poured it over herself.
She cooked his words
in a deep base pan,
o’er the hot burner
that was her heart,
added all the spices
to make it eat-able,
spread the mixture on
toast like marmalade,
and ate it up.
She wrestled with his words
in her head,
broke them into pieces,
pinned them to the floor
of her own imagination,
and in the end
always let em win.
Happy birthday NS. 🙂 I know you don’t understand poetry. But i will keep my promise. Someday, i will make you read between the lines!
April 9, 2012 § 8 Comments
He does not make words
for me. He instead, makes
up excuses. And tells me old
stories from his life.
He catches me when i’m
stumbling onto the path, and
leads me back when i go
astray. He keeps safe
distance when he thinks
i am getting diverted from
what i ought to do, first.
He hears all of my words, though
he barely responds to em.
He makes me a mirror sometimes,
and hangs it right in my
head. So there is some perspective.
He plays music for me, which
i, at times misconstrue to be his
words. He asks nothing
and never clarifies. Leaves
me hazy, but never leaves me.
He does not make words
January 7, 2012 § 4 Comments
She opens her mouth to speak, but the words don’t come out
Her speech is faltering. And embarrased.
But she IS sincere!
First she has to tell you that there is a reason, a justification
That you always sought for but missed in her.
Sometimes she couldn’t explain, and sometimes you didn’t want to understand.
Second, a caution, a request.
She doesn’t want an answer.
Answers corrupt, and sometimes hurt.
Her questions are beautiful enough to keep her enchanted.
She conjured a whispered affection, fondness in her shadows-
Spoken with dry lips, parched and devoid.
Her averted eyes and apparent hopes
Gleamed in her eyes that sometimes don’t shine.
In her mind you’re a destiny,
just not the one she took home but hoped sincerely!
She would never say it in words again
She cares too much to see you drown in this pit.
But she’s been telling you for a while
With the way she leans in the doorway
Always in the midst of lights and her gloom
Where her shadow meets yours, becoming one.