Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Yet Untitled

Whispers which are lost between
Words lying side by side,
Or in the white noise when the heart
Shifts from one Fm Station to another,
Those words you want to decode?

Meanings which are mired within
Entangled fingers of long lost days
Between the pains of sudden joy
And the crackling heart pining in love
Those words you want to unearth?

Clock hours which lose themselves
Between the siblings of today and tomorrow
Days and nights which swirl with ice
In the evening ritual of forgetting lives
Those hours you want to count?

Summers which have walked away
Ranting at bees for not buzzing too loud
And winters which arrive like country guests
Who don't know when to leave,
Those days you want to live?

The sea waves which to and fro
Tick like a child on a swing,
Nights which come and go,
Like thoughts and words in my midnight pen
That poem you want to read?


You say you have been weird since morning
Headache, Heartache...A sudden nostalgia.
Digging up the corpse of the past
And wiping your hands with new memories.
Hissing there and spite here,
Old Wounds preserved for all you care.
It is all part of feeling Weird since morning.
My little porcupine princess,
Too hurt to heal,
Flushing out words ans kisses,
All ready for a kill.

Once upon a time Valentines

Some have faded like old photographs,
Some with the turning of gramophones,
Some like yellow leaves falling,
Have walked out.
A few had lingered like old memories
And some born with the fate of honest politicians
Were banished.
Some masters in deception,
Tricked Satan with kisses.
One went away with a very kind April with her.
Some wandered,
Guitar strings in fingers,
And Baez crawling down their cheeks.
A few wrote letters,
A few cast fetters.
One shouted too long,
One demanded a song.
Some whispered, Some seduced.
Stitched hearts, pain reduced.
One went to war, poems in hand,
Building and furnishing castles of sand.
While some remain,
Like ghosts in a deserted house,
Coming alive once in a while.
Most have faded like old photographs,
Some like discarded clothes
Remind me who I was.