Crack ...

A crack on earth’s chest
gaping open,
allowing the hot fumes of fury
surge up.

Like puss oozing out from a wound,
raw, gawking,
flinging out rotten dejected memories
from a fatigued body.

A heart, slit
and an ugly visible gash;
a hope, torn
and the stench of dead dreams;
tossing away permanence
that keeps changing every second.

distance ...

Without me the sky is lonely.
I loved him
I nurtured him
with my glow.
I embraced him into my soul,
and clasped him onto my chest.
I kissed his eyebrow
and woke him at dawn,
I sang him a lullaby and
put him to sleep, easing his frown.
I pampered his every whim
with indulgence,
and held his tears in my palm
with reverence.
I wore his laughter on my psyche,
caressing his scowl with my warmth.
I draped his smile over me heart,
cuddling his anger
in the cocoon of my arms.
This moment of separation
is like a string of music snapping,
cutting us with its silken thread,
making us bleed.
Without me, my sky
is a still, placid lake,
with no ripple nor reflection.

Without me my sky is alone.
He weeps.
Without me my sky is lost.
He cries.

celestial attitude!

The following is no poetry but an ego trip on an attitude carriage. Meri Marzi ... have I asked anyone to read this? :P


I am Moon; I am a being high and mighty
I bear blemishes yet
people pledge on my beauty
I change, I transform, I die
Yet I rise and this world I defy
I remain a lover’s dream
And a poet’s sigh
A child’s fantasy and
A mystic’s cry.
You can feel on you my soothing beam
You can touch my softness in your dream
You can have me beside you when you are lonely
But your fascination of me gonna be your lover’s envy.
I can hypnotize and tranquilize you on a full moon night
I can make you long for me and heave a sorrowful sigh
But you can never reach me, I am unattainable
Just think of me from a-far and be tranquil.



I am nameless
I am just an essence.  

I am in the absence around you
I am the echoing silence that torments you
I am the heart of an angel's innocence
I am the soul of an artist's persistence
I am the rhythm of a dancer’s swirl
I am the melody of a singer’s choir
I sail along the traveling waves in frenzy
I fly with the passionate breeze being crazy

Every night I sleep to dream a dream
And wake up to another day of being supreme!

Seeking Sleep ....

I lie awake
counting the silence
that keeps dripping
in bits and pieces,
caressing the crumpled
creases of the covering,
waiting ...
longing ...
for sleep.
I touch the hours
with my finger tips
as they pass by,
following the patterns
of some moist memory
that falls like a monotonous
monsoon rain.
I lie awake
searching for sleep.
I seek sleep
for him to embrace my soul,
I beg the velvet darkness
to take me in his lap,
I plead the night stars
to enshrine my eyes and
intoxicate or haze my sight.
As the dusk reconciles
like a gloom over a forlorn cityscape
and grief settles on my soul,
I begin to rummage
for sleep all over again,
like every other night.
And then the silence whispers
into my ears,
saying the search is in vain.
It is pointless to wait
as I would have to walk alone.
There would only be
a few footprints
of nostalgia to accompany.


If only I had those arms to rest in ….
If only I had that chest to lean on!

Predicament ...

Doesn’t matter how much I try
a life would always remain a life,
full of weeping and sobbing
with the bumps
of trials and tribulations!
And you can’t even complaint, for
they would say – that’s what life is, fight!
My limbs ache, my head throb,
my knees bend, my eyes blur.
Yet they command me to hold on.
I try; with new shades and fragrance.
But
there is always a
a screaming sun,
a withered tree,
a forlorn kite,
a barren sky
and a mirthless never-ending space,
along with all the
‘why’, ‘where to’, ‘for whom’.
The day rushes
wrapped in dins and bustle,
hoot and rattle,
fatigued and frazzled.
Then night comes
to rake over
all the wounds
and sores of the day.
I am tired.
I want to rest.
But I can’t even go away,
for they will call me an escapist!

Relationships ...

Sometimes,
in the night
you kindle a sun ray
with blazing bright hue
and by morning
there will be insipid, grey ashes
strewn and scattered all around.

At times, you will weave
a patchwork cloth
hemming pieces
myriad and intense.
You will Join lose ends,
smoothing rough edges
wrapping weft, tying broken threads.
Yet forlornly the knot and the loop
would keep jutting out.

Every so often, you wonder,
whom do you call your soul mate?
Someone who is
holding your hand
sharing your joy and sorrow
or the one who keeps drizzling
in your memory incessantly,
effortlessly with a humming sound
like a continuous falling rain?

Now and then, you will continue
because it is an easy pattern,
a habit, to keep trying
to draw lines and
urging them to meet
either in a circle or in a square;
yet they will keep running
parallel with certain moments
that would be stuck
in your throat like a fish bone
or would be a thorn wedged
below your finger nail
smooth from outside but
hurting each time
brushed against.

Occasionally, you will
nourish and nurture
a green plant
in your garden.
One fine morning
you decide to cut it;
for it will not bear flowers or fruits,
it will not grow into a tree.
Yet you get surprised
while cutting,
for its roots have spread
all over and all around!

At times, it will be like
a favorite painting
on your wall
ever bright and ever prominent.
So much so that after a while
when you would wish to remove it,
a square-like impression
on the wall will remain
undying, like an
unchanging nimbus.

Desire ...

I have a desire
to fly a kite
up above the dense cloud,
running in frenzy along with,
yelling and screaming in joy;
my hair flying in hysteria,
cutting the mountain breeze
in an untamed frenzy.

I have a desire
to be a rhythm
and stream along a river,
still thirsty and searching
for a destination;
yet flowing in a whirling passion,
traveling every nook and corner,
carrying a few sticks, a drop of tear
and some sighs.

I have a desire
to float a boat
in the torrent of my tears,
making it bounce in passion.
My boat will break the sand dunes,
carry a lump of earth in it,
like those merciless memories,
yet surge with the same gusto
like a pealing echoing laughter.

In these desires I see another sky
lurking behind this one.
In these desires I see another Sun
waiting with open arms.
In these desires I see myself.