Tag Archives: Lost

The Letter

You slipped a letter underneath the door

I read it, pushed it back outside.

Who am I but a terrible bore?

 

You could not take it anymore.

The silence gave you nothing to hide.

You slipped a letter underneath the door.

 

Talking for me is a tiresome chore.

What you took to be ignorance, injured your pride.

Who am I but a terrible bore?

 

You told me once it was a foolish lore

that unfinished business never left your side.

You slipped a letter underneath the door.

 

I read it, my eyes never were this sore

The cursive letters seemed so snide.

Who am I but a terrible bore?

 

I knew from the look you wore

that last time you gave me a ride.

You slipped a letter underneath the door.

Who am I but a terrible bore?

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Villanelle Unveiled

I wrote a villanelle. Three actually, but the one I’m going to post is the only one I really like. This form was making me neurotic, I swear. I didn’t want to write it because I felt I would fail miserably. (Free verse is the only kind of poetry I’ve ever done, after all.)

But it wasn’t letting me rest either. I just had to write it, the weight of it was getting unbearable.

So after three tries, this is what materialized. Criticism is more than welcome, but please be gentle. I don’t want my first born to be slaughtered just yet.

 

Oh, curse the power that put me to sleep

While the lady in the apron stood at the shore,

“Here’s a warning, darling, don’t go in too deep.”

 

I gave the ocean all my treasures to keep.

But the lonely fisher-boy evened his score.

Oh, curse the power that put me to sleep.

 

What you sow, the others will reap,

the waves came whispering at my door.

“Here’s a warning, darling, don’t go in too deep.”

 

Once, the moon was a hurdle for my sheep.

Now, it rules the tides that crash and roar.

Oh, curse the power that put me to sleep.

 

Don’t take me down to where the weeds creep.

Don’t push me to mend what the wind tore.

“Here’s a warning, darling, don’t go in too deep.”

 

I ran to where my dreams lay in a heap.

I sorted them, put them back in my store.

Oh, curse the power that put me to sleep.

“Here’s a warning, darling, don’t go in too deep.”

 

P.s. Changes have been made after applying the constructive criticism given by Marie.

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Hear Ye, Hear Ye.

This is a public declaration of my insanity.

I slit my vein to see my blood

was it white like he claimed it was?

He lied. It was crimson

copper and cold

Red metal that dripped on the sidewalk.

 

I stood on a banister

swaying with the wind

then walked on my tippy toes.

I could balance,

the one thing he said was missing in my life.

I didn’t fall on my face

like he said I would.

 

I crushed my fingers

by swinging a hammer,

he had said I didn’t have the strength to do it.

I did it and then proceeded

to my toes

My bones were weak, I was not.

 

The wind bit me, burnt me,

red, black and blue

purple around the edges.

He had said I was dead,

couldn’t feel anything,

I proved him right

by killing myself.

 

Now that I’m dead,

in a garbage heap

around the corner of the new movie theatre,

there’s a note in a box

right under my bed.

Read it, then call me crazy

call me insane.

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Globe Trotter

She painted maps on her arms,

Latitudes, longitudes, legends and symbols

Her eyes did all the traveling

Places she dreams of treading in ballet slippers

And yellow gum boots

She, her eyes, they swam

In the ocean, in tears, in a combination of guilt, regret, spilled blood.

The rivers are red, the cities dark

And borders, invisible, countries merging.

Her fingers tire, walking all day

Sao Paulo, Bombay, Normandy

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There Is Life Ahead

The water flows

You can’t contain it

It spills into crevices you dare not peep in

It fills in spaces you thought you’d never touch.

But you did.

 

The world was fast

You ran to keep up

It spun from right under your feet

It took you somewhere you had never been.

 

Now you’re trapped

The walls are high

Your conscience, the lone sentinel.

It can free you, if you choose to be free.

 

Choose to be free,

There’s more to come.

Forget the place you try to run from.

There’s life ahead

And love.

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Things To Do Before You Die…

Dot the night sky with fiery lanterns

Let red rule the expanse for a little while.

Sit, with feet dangling in the quick sand pit.

Let your toes be sucked in –

rip them out.

Live a second life,

hold your first for ransom –

take what you want, then kill it.

Bring a suitcase, fill it with rocks –

lug it around, leave it in a motel room,

the cheap kind –

cigarette burned carpets.

Light the world on fire,

get jailed for arson, burn down a falling building.

Think bigger, sin bigger.

I’ll do that too.

We’ll bring out the worst in us.

We’ll live.

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The Urdu Poetry Experiment

Here’s a poem in Urdu I wrote a long long time back. A friend asked to read something by me in Urdu, so I’m putting it up here. Feeble attempt, but I hope you like it.

 

door kahin weeranay main

ik aag lagi

kuch dhuaan utha

jo dil jalay

woh raakh huay

par shaula woh jalta hi raha.

 

woh hijr ka ik chirgh tha

kai din, kai raatain nigal gaya

baras beet gaye uss roshni main

par shaula woh jalta hi raha.

 

kai ashk giray thay uss par

iss aas main ke ik din bujh jaaye

par woh lau hi kya jo madham ho

aur shaula woh jalta hi raha.

 

uss roshni main, ay humnawa

shab-e-firaq naha gai

aur dil mera ik baar phir

khamshi se sulag gaya

raakh hua

kuch dhuaan utha

par shaula woh jalta hi raha.

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