Tuesday, 1 March 2016

Saline dreams...



Saline, close to the skin;

Close to memories---

Deep, enigmatic,

Taking toward forest rains,

Deep, dark moss covered trees and

Toward lost walkways of yesterdays,

Toward glimmering deceits of tomorrow,

Evoking déjà vu .



The ocean wind tastes saline;

Coming from eons across,

Passing the sea

To the beach, where my legs taste eternity;

The waves coming from you, oh ocean,

Talk to my roots

As earth soaks herself in saline stories,

Evoking déjà vu.



I realize,

We humans don’t carry ears on legs,

And those who carry,

Their sounds die after a few miles;

We are more eyes and mouth than ears,
and your stories are syllables of life.



At night the songs of your people haunt
And the moon dances in your waves;

Your saline stories are seeping in

Through earth, spreading,

Desperate to be heard;

I shut my eyes tight, but

Dreams of little mermaids playing around corals,

And of vanishing mountains waves in.

Thursday, 18 February 2016

...new songs each moment...



A whiff of the wind
And my eyes wait,
For you touch my heart
Much before you knock the door.

In between unspoken words,
Casual looks thrown at each other,
I know, an ocean lies and
All its waves are singing new songs.

As familiar as my breath, you,
Nothing new in both of us;
Nothing new between us;
Yet, the air between us whistles songs,
New songs each moment
And they sound so familiar, as
Melodies from across many lives.

Wednesday, 17 February 2016

...the four walls and me...



I am in a placid yellow room,

my room,

trying to catch the bright colours,

floating outside the window.

They float by and gradually vanish as white,

white and sometimes black;

is that all about?

Gradually becoming black or white?

I weave colours of my own

and the room loud with its placidness

its depth of truth, loneliness,

hugs me into silence.

The more I love life and its colours,

the more it fills me with truth, loneliness,

and its placid yellow colour.

The room speaks its language;

it’s loud and full

and not like the chaos outside---

for the room has no boundaries,
it has four walls of existence and

they share corners with each other

and together hold the roof---

and I drown in its placid yellow silence.

The room and I, we are not sad;

we are not happy either;

we share silence,

it is bliss;

the face of the house may not

every time reveal the rooms inside

and they may not their occupants

to ordinary eyes,

because we are free birds

just holding on here for time being…















 




Tuesday, 26 January 2016

... hills are sleeping; I will remember to carry cloth bags...



walking up your curved paths,
pebbles, shells, marbles, and
occasionally crabs--- as if from
another world or bygone days---
they came between my steps
like hidden eras of your existence;
like synopsis of your stories
coming between my conscious and
subconscious beliefs;
and you gave me pinkish white buds
and lush green grass to walk
and wake up to the day;
it’s winter now,
you are brooding in silence
and you evoke awe in me;
your silence and unfriendly paths
evoke some distant truths, distant fears;
in an art shop i buy your past colours---
till you emerge as my friend,
waiting for rain clouds beyond the summer---
i carry your colours and a new canvass,
i carry them in a plastic bag,
i regret carrying a plastic bag
because your reddish, barren,
silent paths still haunt me
even inside my room with some potted greens
and i feel lonely and scared, of some distant
eternal winter…
  
 Visit dVerse Poets Pub for Ecopoetry

Wednesday, 20 January 2016

beyond words



it is hard to express
when it comes to things so close to you,
like silence,
 it stays so close to you;
words may fall apart
when silence takes all the tears,unshed,
and all those things you can’t explain
and keeps it somewhere deep,
giving you space to smile, and laugh;
simply because you are not anywhere near
the people around you;
simply because you are dyslexic for words
to explain yourself;
simply because you are blind to see beyond the masks
and so silence stays close, flows around
and inside, words fail to express,
but it is there in every second,
in-between every pair of heartbeats
and so hard to explain...