Skip to main content

A Self-Contained Communion

She smelled pleasant like the first sun shower after a scorchy weather
Memories floating like the rainbow after rain, scattered colors but together

Her lips were iced, but those black, burdensome eyes recited a gospel fable
While her grievous shoulder thrusted her, deep down a vague tumble

At times unpoised, like a nomad shipping too fast
At times stormless, like a baby falling asleep at the back of the moving car

And all the while she got me more curious
Made me wanting to unburden her forbidden secrets

Intrigued by her blended texture, my desire to unearth her increased
And the more I plunged her profound soul, the more penetrating and mysterious it became

A congenital seeker, baiting her hook to hunt something dark
A glittery-eyed maniac, now filled with bursting words, then painfully shy

I want to slither in through the cracks of her heart
Quench my thirst and drink the elixir of this abstract art

May be she is caught up in a dream
Or maybe she is curtaining some deep enigma she is scared to tell,
They find her spiritless for she never shared her heart
I see her as a closed book waiting to be spelled

To the falling star I say, may she words her vibes to someone someday
And may she bellow like an untamed animal in dismay

I lift my eyes, watch her multitudes in revere
I swear the mirror never seemed so clear.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Letter to a Lethal Timid

"I quietly but persistently punished myself, shredded off the skin until nothing was left except the scent of blood on my fingers. I worked very hard to not let the black spot grow into cancer and slosh me down. On countless occasions, your needling, needless remarks pricked my conscience, and my head bursted like a dropped watermelon. You, dear hater, would never know severely have I been sliced by your venomous words. My vigor drained by the end of the day only to hear the slow pulse of its job half done. Saddened, I would scratch my wounds too deep for the healing and then let them open. I remember the nights when my insecurities hemmed in and my sense of fear filled my mouth with hot, dry air and made my body light. I used to watch you with eyes of hate before I realized that you are nothing but a pile of uncemented bricks that would never take a form, and I pitied you. I could clearly hear your enviousness and malice thudding loudly like a horse’s hoof...
Post a Comment
Read more

Dispatch to a Friend

So this friend came to me the other day and accused me of being a paradox. He complained that your scripts talk about being vigorous and iron-willed while you, on the other hand, seem to be feeble and obscure; that you are a contradiction, full of falsehood and you drop lines on the piece of paper that you’re literally not. I let him had it at that while, because I believe I am good at pushing a pencil and am not blessed with the gift of gab. My dear friend, to you I write, I am a meek valiant. I sob at the sofa in the middle of the day, panting and yearning for something far-fetched. I am a miscalculation of theories and sentiments. While I scribble dauntless and lionhearted beliefs, I might be the most timid and reticent human being you have ever met. I am the one who fragmentizes inward and sheds bitter tears in a dark corner, rather than howling back. This ideal, prototypical girl in the back of my mind that I write about and that, in the heart of hearts, I aspire to ...
1 comment
Read more

An Immortal Star-gazer

There I espy, a band of dreamers With their heads in the clouds and their feet on the ground, Serene are their actions, unbothered by petty pursuits Eyes glittery, nerves dancing, as the lucidity of their dreams fathom, They have shed the shackles of selfishness, hurt and fear Morphed into humans- eloquent and clear, An aura so charismatic, a chutzpah so mesmerizing Not sounding like everyone else, instead sounding better, Unruffled like a crow on the scarecrow Quenching every hiccup in their mind with their hankers, Souls who turned their phantoms into discernible doves Who sound utopian, but are pragmatic Verismos, Meet the unbridled forces of nature, a chrysalis for the future Not taproots but rhizomes, ready to spring anywhere, They venture to think the unimaginable, envisage the unthinkable And toil indurately to achieving the grail, Join them someday, believe me; you will love it up here!
Post a Comment
Read more