In quaero of animus

2011-10-31T23:53:00.000+05:30

A smudge on reams of paper
blank
furiously so.
Edges that cut fingers raw
beneath the skin
there's
shallow blood.

Rotting flesh smooths over
roughly sewn together
scars barely visible now
pallid surface
sallow under.
This now - is maybe forever.

2011-04-29T09:39:00.000+05:30

I'll be just as silent when I leave

Long before I said anything

You'd say why

has it been, you didn't?

time that was, spent on asking

That could be on accepting

If I was different,

would you have said the same?

I'll be just as silent when I leave.

Not You

2011-02-21T23:57:00.000+05:30

Maybe it was right for you that I wasn't.
Beyond your way
Not to my arms, not today.

If you're lost, well you've lost me too.
I tossed a coin to see if you cared.
the cost of craving this today.

I'm in pieces, not the way you want me.
I'm thinking I might walk,
If that's the one thing I'd do today.

The Clot

2010-11-03T00:46:00.000+05:30

I'm still awake waiting for a call.
A sign, a scream, anything.
I found the doodle in my old bag,
I don't wanna tear that up, not yet.

Still awake, writing this song.

Usually, I have plenty to say,
not this time, no.
Usually, I have a tune for my song,
nothing here, no.

I serenade the door,
the cascading open blinds
leaves marks on my skin.
I wish I can throw two cents into the wishing well.

I refuse to treat, to uproot,
everyday it congeals around me.
How Alice felt through the looking glass,
I run a nail across your unseen reflection.

My bright yellow has bleak grey trimmings now.

2010-09-22T00:10:00.000+05:30

Just, like the day you told me to leave.
Told me this was done.
Long before I could form stutters.
Too much time spent on closing doors.

I'll remember to love you.
When the green turns brown.
Autumn winds around me, binding leaves.

I'll un'spake.

I'll remember to breathe.
Just, like the day you told me to leave.

Eventually

2010-08-31T23:16:00.004+05:30

Yellow hues of tenderness color me soft

Wishing the skies would lighten its shades.

Sultry. Warm. Those that paint me.

Eyes, swirling, a molten chocolate

lips, a steady, dripping, red.

Gazing lazily at the sweeping movements.

winding fingers around gestures like it mattered

twisting knotted hair.

Nothingness, is peaceful.

2010-06-17T10:18:00.000+05:30

I’ve given my gone away.

Slowly.

Penetrating the inches that can’t seep through.

Making way for the empty.

You asked me to write you a song.

I’ve left you a note instead.

This tree has no roots.

Its flamboyant branches, crumbly.

My yoke, amusing in this wake.

Falling, I’ve imagined, must be grey.

Just as desolate is.

I’ve seen my blindness reach me.

Much too fast.

2010-05-24T21:49:00.000+05:30

You grasp me within inches of my spoken for life,
you tantalize me with snivels.
My baby, you will always be.

Ugly

2010-04-27T21:14:00.000+05:30

There are times when I like

the ugly in me.

The fright, the scattered,

the relentless fighting.

the bored, the wistful,

the naivety.

There are times when I like

every imperfection

in my body.

Every blemish, every mark

every trait.

reminds me of what could be, what it is to be.

these are just those times,

I like the

Ugly in me.

...its not enough

2010-03-18T13:54:00.000+05:30

Red earth and pouring rain

She was born into.

Disquiet of the fiery clay.

Rays peeked into her violet plumes,

She woke up, reaching to the warmth.

Her kin, like a carpet, they spread,

O’er the hills.

Her destiny, she was told, was to partake in the journey of love.

Her bloom, still young, waved merrily in the air,

Waiting for their fulfilment.

Her birth was the beginning.

Theirs was an extraordinary love.

Her violet was fiery, his dampness held her.

The first strains of a silver song began.

She was the silent witness.

They danced around the vivid mountains,

oblivious to their tiny companion.

As love awashed her, she had her catharsis.

The brushstroke was a faint yellow; now.

But her seed was black.

The dampness cracked, plunging her shades to paleness.

The silence of the song...deafening.

“But I love you,” she screamed in desperation.

“It is not enough.”

The finality in his tone berated her.

He stopped in his tracks, turned to her retreating, withering figure.

Stopped as if to drop a word. Kindness, perhaps.

The tiny plumes now swayed violently, her destiny at stake.

He strode over where she was planted instead.

She waited longingly for his palms, to soothe.

Unseeing now, she wept for the retreating lover.

She did not feel the first caress of his feet

or rushing death as he stomped her.

Posthumously, autumn took the uprooted flower in his refuge.

“Little Kurinji”, he whispered.

Note: Neela kurinji or Strobilanthes kunthiana is a violet flower that blooms once in 12 yrs in the Western Ghats. These flowers live through the spring season and are believed to be a symbol of maturity and love.

Diffind

2010-01-19T15:43:00.000+05:30

Purple night, I envy you.

Twisty murders underneath your sheet

You see.

They don’t watch you witnessing. Silent.

Do you weep for them?

Or do you snigger at the hide and seek?

Inky dark hounds you

Crowding.

Billion stars. Maybe two,

cannot wipe you out.

The orange glow at rest now.

This time you can be you.

When they offer you silent prayer,

to save them.

The others look

to run away safely, not to get caught.

Do you let them know

with your many colors

That you neither grieve, nor save.

You just be.

Just be.

2010-01-01T20:25:00.000+05:30

Paint me the hues of your colors.

Tell me why you did it.

I could go over it in my head,

but I would never know what you did.

Sing me the melody of your song.

I can't hear through the clangs in my head.

I could go over it in my song.

but I would never know what you hummed.

Tell me...your story.

Just these little crushes

2009-12-08T10:52:00.002+05:30

In the month of may, when the sun carves through your skin,

Do you skip to the country fair just a little bit far?

The mayflowers peeking from the rocks you see from your moving car,

Do you wish you could be there to avoid all the din?

I went this summer with this sweet little boy,
He looked, I blushed, we played this game.
I felt like the beautiful, aristrocratic dame,
When he held my hand and gave a whoop of joy.

Childish. Sappy now. I wrinkled my nose at the patterns.
Blushing? I chided myself. Do you not know better?
Until I found in my bag, a crumpled, old fashioned letter.
This is definitely more than what you deserve to earn.
Skipping several beats, I read.

"Thanks, I like you."

Just when I thought I ended the pattern,
It weaved one of its own.

Fear

2009-11-20T11:06:00.002+05:30

The icy tongue swept over his hair,
it prickled, slow.
Yellowing, it barred its teeth.
cocked its head, challenging.

There was no choice, he ran at the mocking head.
Slow, deliberate, it spread its arm, taking him in.
...the cold spread to his throat now.
closing on his throat. Now.
Rasped what he thought was his last breath.
Clutching, his palms, sweaty despite the cold,
broken nails, dug deeper.

Its wheezy laugh, booming in his ears.
He could not shut it out.
It curved his spine, slow. As if it were to kiss.
He struggled against what, he did not understand.
He did 'cause that's what he wanted to do.

Sunlit streets conjured up in his mind,
he dreamed for an angel to save him.
He lay there, whole now. Looking at the broken teeth, now barred.
Ward 02 was now streamed with the receding twilight.
His straight jacket, slack.
Rushing steps. Swish of lab coats.

Its a big effin' sinking boat, mister!

2009-11-19T15:30:00.000+05:30

Purple twilight
Darkens.
She twists in agony.
mascara, now forgotten, streaks her hollow cheeks.
She snorts between whimpers: at herself.
Pity, incredulity sometimes.
Every person pointed towards self-sacrifice.
Yet, she wanted to indulge in herself.

So many heartbreaks,
She mused over the statistics.
wanting to believe that her pain is unique.
But its not, she mused.
Loss was all she knew,
yet every third person, lids down, was shedding the same tears
that she claimed her own.

She pulled the sheets closer,
her smile, maniac.
As she hummed to herself...
Pull your act together,
Just...don't rhyme when you whine!

Beloved Son

2009-10-26T19:04:00.000+05:30

Scared. So scared; it feels good to be scared.
I saw your tiny fingers rushing through your mother's womb.
I cradled you, but you were lifeless. Then.
Your blood soaked eyes did not see what it was born into.
I closed mine.
I put this on your grave marker:
'Beloved son, my angel. You were loved.'
I placed a wreath on you, as I dropped a flower on your mother's.

No Glory

2009-10-26T18:50:00.000+05:30

She wipes the speck of blood off her thigh,
The trail, invisible.
Clotted, it is blue now.
As dark as the twilight outside the curtained window.

"Alf-past seven now", she muses.
The frail cot creaks as she gets up, cracking her knuckles.
Ladles the little water she stored,
and drinks it all up.

The caked kohl at the corner of her eyes,
hides the lost twinkle they held.
She thinks not about this when she lies back on the cot,
She does not care, this is her God, her Work.

'I shall be on my way now", says the grimy man.
She smiles. He smiles.
Gently closing the door behind him,
he squares his shoulders and walks on.

He could almost hear them, maybe just a whisper.
But he knew what they said,
each time, every time.
"Yonder lives the whore".

Self

2009-09-20T20:49:00.001+05:30

Dark mother,

take me back into your abyss.

Wombs

Forged in the altar of death

Born out the crimson

Show me death so I can

Celebrate life.

For glory is misplaced in everything material.

In your eyes I see my universe

I see.

In my pitiful existence

I see the vastness of creation.

Its extensiveness on the throes of flames

Its tender loins burning,

with the flames of forgetfulness

Of murdering fellow men

Of submissiveness.

Freedom from its knowledge would be liberation from myself. My self.

As my toes curl in anticipation,

I wait for thee.

Mother.

I do not want to fear your darkness.

Because the darkest hour is just before dawn.

Where I wish to awaken

Reborn.

Hurtling into the light,

I just see you, welcoming me

I feel your smile through every pore on my skin.

I reach and find the missing piece

I close my eyes and find the light still percolating through them.

Indeed my world is filled with light so engulfing, so potent that I do not fear.

I only embrace myself. My self.