Wednesday, November 30, 2016

The night and I conspire

The night and I conspire,
To never let a human be my love,
Ever again;

A Hope that betrays senses and joy,
A lifetime of wont manifest buried under a rubble,
So dense that nothing remains,
But the silence.

This silence is mine, and mine alone,
A line infinite, a world unbound,
We live breath-held, 
Till neither can any more. 

If this is forever,
Then a moment is all there is,
Consciousness conspired-
To never begin nor end. 

This night and I,
We remain, we stay, we live,
The pause between her verses,
The gleam of teeth between her lips. 

Human, never. 
Maybe. 
If she is. 




Saturday, October 22, 2016

Humanity

What remains is the first light through the storm clouds,

And a heavy sigh of an old lady with ten sons

Who are nowhere, but a daughter who left her husband.



Plunder, and the world shifts, dried blood in the sands

Are swept around in swirls of remorseful history,

Tales of valour die as fast as they are born,

An instant less than the last life who knew the heroes.



She, he, whatever- the land,

It stands still, a gashed being which heals over time,

For the forests shall grow again, and the mountains shift;

The human tears dried the second they hit the parched earth.



We are transient beings who for all our vanity perish.

The world isn't the one that needs saving-

In our thirst we shall drink each others' blood,

In our hunger, dig the jaws into ourselves.



Our history is for us and our future, beyond,

The books shall rot, and shall lose form,

The web shall tangle itself, gnarled

Listless, powerless, strangle itself.


Humanity- you, I, we-

We are ugly and beautiful-

We shall be gone all too soon,

The mirror shall have none to tell the truth.


The ruins shall have no admirers,

And there will be no mighty lord to beget a son

Who can take you to lands or planets safer-

There's no home for those who doom themselves.



Peace, peace, peace-

For who knows what's there

When no one is there to know.

Peace, peace, peace. 

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Silences


Silences.

The moment as the page turns,
And awaits a-lay;

The breath in abeyance,
The verse to be sung, lingers in suspense;

Silence.
Yours. And mine.



As the shimmer in your eyes,
In the looking-glass, as you smile.

When you let the hug linger,
Squeeze in closer and closer,

And wish evermore,
And evermore.


The silences,
Silences,
Ours.


Monday, August 1, 2016

I

Forget me and my name,
   And the rocks shall turn to sand;

   Through the sands of time 
    with a sieve you may search,

    And in the murmur of the waves 
   hope to find, 
                                  
    Me, and a name, 

  I.



When all is gone, 
 The air too,


The mind, 
forgotten,

The breath,
held,


Words,
unspoken,


A dream,
Lost, comatose, 


I stand, I be, 

I am, For that's all there is,

I am,

I am,

I am,

I.


Limits be no bound.

In an eternal time,
Now is now
As it was then,
And when it is now,
It is also then;

And then,
A timeless when,
Where I be,
For I am,
I am,
I am,
I am,
I.


Forget me and my name,
And the rocks shall turn to sand;
And sands shall burn away,
And the ashes too,
And none shall remain,
But I,
For I am,
I am,
I am,
I am,
I.
















Thursday, June 30, 2016

Life


I

Does it matter if it s a ship or a city?            

From up here, they are just a clutter of light,

Floating in the nothingness, of a moonless night.



I lay back and watch the sky,

A blanket of stars, giving way to morning light.



olin vazhiyo iruvidham,

Kanin alavo etinadooram.


(The way of light is two

Your eyes can see till their reach)



II

Shimmering lights that fade away,

Memory, a treason to the past,

Carried along from afar,

To further away, and away,

Till we no more know,

If it is what it was.



Whence it began, we now see, there

The day we were born, is still untold,

And,

Somewhere we are the future,

Waiting to be seen alive,

The crosses and 'O's

A drama drawn on velveteen yore.



III

The darkest night is a gray in hiding,

I search not for the white, nor the black,

But them both- fair's not worth more

Than the deepest unknown.


And a shade of Gray, and another,

We are but effervescent bubbles of life;

And life, which we are, but know not-

A quest far Grayer than memory, or the night.























Friday, April 22, 2016

Evanescence

I

Evanescence,

A lifetime to forget  everything you ever held close,

Framed and boxed away like old photograph,

To be found in a rubble, as antique inheritance,

By a child still with innocence.



II

Those you held in tight embrace,

With love and trust, are far gone,

In miles, and in memories.


And you see them light years later,

Their past, your present,

Your present, to them still not beckoned.



III

Would words ever heal

The scars of words,

As fire for fire,

Stirs a rebirth-

A phoenix from the end,

A beginning to forget, to mend.



Can we all forget the years 'tween,

Can what's lost be found,

Befuddled days buried in calendars,

Magic potion to a legendary curse.


IV


Till then, the past I hold to cherish,

You, a dream, still and perfect,

As you were the day you flew away,

To a land East, closer to the day.


Someday,

The threads undone shall be woven,

Cloistered years, forgotten,

The blood we share, bespoken,

The love, of the closest kin.










Saturday, March 12, 2016

But, it could be ours


   A scrawl in the margin of a tattered book-


And memories tinted in yellow antique lights,

              Play deep in your irises;

                 

                    And in mine,

                        our love.



           In abeyance, we could live,

               And in that moment,
                               
                         we love;



         The world would cease to be,

Slowly, like a half-remembered dream;



                             If. 




                     All there is,
 
  Is a book with someone's name on it.

             Not yours, not mine.


      And that scrawl on the margin,

            Not yours, not mine;




                          But,
         
                It could be ours.




Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Sorrow's embrace

Sorrow's embrace;

The long silence of a full moon night-

The reading light, a mature whiskey to bitter moonshine.


Stillness,

Sans the sound of the ceiling fan,

The aircon. a whimpering ghost behind dusty curtains.


You,


           You,


                     You,


                           
                                You,



Is
all
that
is
there,

And the sorrow's embrace,
To last a lifetime.


Sunday, January 3, 2016

Note to self

Be not hurt by unkind words or raging anger,
Be not felled by tumultuous whispers;
But hear, unnerved by tone or slight,
Unmoved by belligerence or hate.

Neither wrath, nor the glutton,
But the poisons of those base
And so vile,  eat away
All that is good and worthy of life.

Don't be afraid,
But apologize for your faults,
And thank for praises that be,
But never be consumed by pride.

People may come and people may go,
But you go on forever;
All that lasts as time moves on,
Are those pillars-of laughter, of life.

A friend is forever,
Or at least till you forget yourself. 

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Waiting


My deepest desire is to let go, get tipsy, and laugh with you.

Just us, you and I, alone, 
                       the world held back by the walls we have raised through our dreams, in love.

In love

Nothing more, nothing less, 
just the intimacy which only souls in eons of togetherness can make.  


I want to hold you, hug you, squeeze you and not let go;
                                                             till you push me away, breathless 

and we laugh together at our silly noses.


No thoughts to harbour, no words to bind the unsaid whispers.

I want it to be never ending, you and I, holding hands, knowing that the other is there.

That carefree laughter, 
unafraid of  life, 
untainted by the foibles of civilisation, 
unrestrained by the                                     nameless-formless.


That would be the day I come alive, and no one but you will know me, as I am.

I wait. 

The art of patience isn't waiting for the right moment, but knowing which isn't.