Wednesday, 17 December 2014

Where sense and senseless doesn't make sense....

Memories are books in a shelf,
I pick titles and then they turn pages;
home, where you lived as a kid
never seizes to be a favourite title
                                                                                    with pages as many as stars,
Saturday nights came as chocolates,
 Sunday mornings as bread, butter, egg and milk
when sleeping a bit more was fun,
when ache never was attached with heart
but wounds, lost toys and silly matters
when butterflies, shiny pebbles, broken china vase
were precious;
memories get hurt, even existence, when you learn
that beyond a made-up boundary
 many dreams that weren't even
old enough to taste memories were crushed;
their Sunday bread and butter will remain unserved
as bleeding sour wounds bearing relentless curse;
aches, all hearts ache,
those who crushed,
I hope, have never been attached
with bread-and-butter Sundays…


  1. There's also an ache such words and topics evoke in us...I felt it tuging at my heart strings with each line of yours.
    Beautiful Shreeja!

  2. Building up from personal to collective memory - very powerful and well-balance piece of work!

  3. I fear the monsters were also little children once creating memories, but they must have forgotten. Iti s too much to fit onto shelves, too much. Wonderful poem! (Do you mean "to taste memories w.e.r.e. crushed"?)

    1. Thank you so much.....yes it is 'were'....I corrected it.......

  4. So sad when children never will grow up with those fond memories of sunday bread.. A lovely concept really.

  5. it is sad when we forget... brought to mind a scene from the movie ratatouille where the stiff and mean guy suddenly finds that way back to his childhood memories again through a simple dish..

  6. ugh, painful memories... Indeed, I hope those aren't attached to a peaceful bread and butter sunday... sadly for some, it is..

  7. nice...a fresh turn on the was so much simpler then, wasnt it...our problems seemed just as big in the moment but...i would rather sleep in...and have some bread n butter sundays

  8. With the recent events of the killing of those children, I feel so sad that they can't wake up to a simple bread and butter Sundays ~

    Thanks for linking up Sreeja ~ Have a lovely week ~

  9. Memories are books in a shelf,
    I pick titles and then they turn pages;
    home, where you lived as a kid
    never seizes to be a favourite title

    Perfect opening Sreeja! There can never be a better beginning to get ideas moving but home. Home is where the heart is and it is certainly an inspiration!


  10. This was such a moving piece Sreeja! Poignant, and some of your lines really stayed with me - especially the closing.


  11. A Poignant tale .... very beautifully illustrated.