Saturday, September 24, 2011

Back & Forth, along-

I have seen long shadows of evening
fall out of the eyes of cloud.
I have measured spoonful of happiness
in the open bottle of sunrise
I have smelt the approaching winters
midst the yellow grasses of a lonely
lake side.
And all along I have tried
to write poetries that rhyme with your name

I have walked through plateaus of breezy wind
and dark mangroves
where rains wash away memories
and yet I spell words
redolent of this muted distance that we share.
Mindful of every second
that I have longed for your voice.

While fleetingly
in the curtained windows of future
I have caressed the corners of your face
through my fingers
reliving all that is
but yet to be felt,
and desired between us.

And the touches of your skin on my senses tell me that
there can be no poetry that rhymes with your name
and our separation
that I have to sew you in the realm of reality
for some poem to flow.

And as I carve you, poem-less
Sometime soon
a kosher day shall halt lazily to stay with us.
Veritable with chestnut hues
and whispering mornings
and you
and me
to make up for all the days
that crowd into this lost moment of my love

Friday, September 16, 2011

Simple Stories

Often truth is just an unstructured tale
that quietly seeps into the soul
where then poetry just seems
an undesirable ornament
Truth stays, like fragment of a salty summer breeze
rhyming the wind chimes of your name
on my window.

and there.

I walk among the shadows
like a silent visitor to the land of subtlety.
Where poetry is alien and we sleep within the luxury of a story, our story.

A moment spent in yearning is all what poetry entails
while the miracle of banal stories
walks through the rain forests of hope.

Where I call your name like a hymn of longing
erasing in a pause the distances of voices, oceans and continents

In the nest of your name
lies the comfort of home.

As all the cliched verses of your name
on my night sky stand alone
like metaphors for your eyes,
a sidereal bird in between river and the moon.
I see you as distinct as a white cloud in blue sky.

And for those moments I unlearn to think of you
until the air and the sky conspires me to come back.

And what remains
is a story,
a home
and your name.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

...And Yet

My lonely planet
of rough smudged edges
and harsh nomadic resplendence
is just that

I live in this home as a
wanderer, and the empty spaces
bereft of your presence
seems obtrusive
where you are missed
like childhood memories.

And among all my follies
that I admit, do know
that my love for you
shall always arise
from the silent ocean of words
and gush into the poetries
of your shadows.

and yet

Friday, September 9, 2011


In the stilted contours
of this virgin night
under the carpet of an almost dark, dismal sky

like an abandoned mansion
of lost splendor and erased years
I wait.

And night after night
I stay amidst the ruins of my own selves
surrounded by the wild hedges of memories
curling me like a serpent, encapsulating me
as if my shadows in the dark.

And in the hazy drapes
of those unembellished leafs of your memories
I embrace you

You are an archipelago of oasis
in an unknown desert of
far off distant humans.

The remnants of the thousand wreckage
that am left with for now
craves for the caressing solitude of your touch.

So that I live
unlike the rumor of a dream,
like forgotten love,
like a drowned wistful yearning of a man
that I am now

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Things that last-

Slowly, like blooming daisies like a silent summer river like thoughts in quivering frozen nights. we hold each other dripping and vanishing into wilderness of the scented jungles of memory. We walk back and forth but time freezes, reassuring us of everlasting caresses that stoke fire of our passions. And what remains is a painted path of love that elopes into a molten we. As I reside in you. And you reside in me. And we stay forever. A glowing sun of intimacy. Faraway an enchanting night star merges into the dark sky