Consciously, I leave your thoughts out.
Yet they chase me into an empty room,
and everytime my face has an arm over it,
I can hear my breathing.. Hush.. sigh.. hush.
I think of nothing, no possibilities
dawn at corners of my eyes anymore. The quest
of years has exhausted me. I cannot celebrate
the occasion of your marriage.. Hush.. sigh.. hush.
Those memories, like mist, show no vistas of joy.
I feel no suspense of future. Just a dampness fills
my dress. The wind only changes the form of the fog,
pine trees freshly shaken say.. Hush.. sigh.. hush.
The beer in my blood keeps me up
dancing on dark floors, in sweaty trance.
I wake up dehydrated, parched. Birds keep
chirping at a distance.. Hush.. sigh.. hush.
These meandering thoughts arise from
the rustle of laughters, the ring of old jokes,
mention of a movie, a dinner, a song, that
in my present existance sings.. Hush.. sigh.. hush.
So much salty water, that I feel like an ocean.
Boundless. A depth, carved to bear profound joys,
an expense, that can bear every tremor now, while
distress will die out in waves.. Hush.. sigh.. hush.
August 28, 2006
8 pm, Starbucks
2 comments:
From DSS:
that I feel like an
By Pradzie on Wed, 2006-08-30 10:15
that I feel like an ocean.
Boundless. A depth, carved to bear profound joys,
an expense, that can bear every tremor now, while
distress will die out in waves….
Very nice lines really, if you read carefully! Btw, you’ve become a starbucks poet. Dya always write ur poems there?
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ah, dude...
By atrakasya on Wed, 2006-08-30 04:31
Yeh to hona hi tha…
An act of tabula rasa is in order.
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Starbucks poet:)
By Vivek on Wed, 2006-08-30 14:06
Yup Pradzie, on regular days, I steal an hour from everything and write in Starbucks:) I try focussing only on research during the day, and I am too busy making merry conversations all the other time. The Fall semester just started, and there will be number of occasions during seminars and such when I’d write.
I think I will be posting fewer and fewer good poems in days to come. My output has increased considerably, but I am trying to save stuff for publication. The poets I meet are great help in mastering the craft. Perhaps rather than posting half-baked poems, I’d be better off posting only good prose from now on:)
Example of stuff I am saving;)
I know my words, like embers, will turn to dust,
And yet I burn, for dazzle I must.
My black skin hides, within, an anger, a fire,
Even when reduced to ash, smolder I must.
(and it goes on)
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wow!
By ano on Thu, 2006-08-31 05:00
perhaps you ought to consider tying up with Starbucks for promotion. will be on the look-out for your published pieces - all the very best!
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More from DSS:
Vivs, Smolder away and
By chay on Wed, 2006-08-30 17:30
Vivs,
Smolder away and dazzle away!! Smiling
For now…hush my dear ocean hush!!
Chay
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sharma jee
By bilbobaggins on Thu, 2006-08-31 04:24
technical nitpickings again. embers turn to ash and not to dust. two different elements there. and though you’ve corrected that in the next two lines, ash does not really smoulder, not by itself. it only covers the embers and when the embers are gone and only ash remains, there is no fire , no more.
though I liked the imagery I found in your attempt, its incompleteness did leave me hanging.
It also reminded me of the oft used lakdi jal koyla bhaiyi , koyla jal bhaiyi raakh …..
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:) bilbo, arz hai
new
By Vivek on Fri, 2006-09-01 20:19
Poetic licence bilboji:)
hua hun dhool hi, ab khaakh bhi nahin
jalta tha, dhuan tha, tha khaakh kabhi
kehkashaa meri kahaan se lai hai kahan
julashaa, dhool hua, jaana, mitnay ke baad hi!
mitti mein mila hai, mitti se ugaa tha
mera dil kabhi jaltaa hua ek masla tha
ek faaslay par ruka, jaltaa gaya woh
armaano ko bujhtay, mit-tay waqt laga tha!
hun dhool bhi, raakh bhi, rakt bhi, raas bhi
jitna lagtaa hun nakhush, karta utna parihaas bhi
mere labzon mein na dhoond, woh dhuan ab kahan
hua hun dhool hi, jaaana mit-nay ke baad hi!
(Tumhein Parihaas se shikwa hoga, mujhe parhez nahin:)
Poori angrezi ghazal email mein, online sambhav nahin)!
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