I've been expecting you.

27 May 2012

Suddenly it all makes sense!


Do you know the feeling when you read something awesome and tell yourself, 'I just HAVE to share this'?

Well, I felt it when I came across these poems by Alice Walker from her book- '
Revolutionary Petunias and Other Poems'....

I have learned not to worry about love;
but to honor its coming
with all my heart.
To examine the dark mysteries
of the blood
with headless heed and
swirl,
to know the rush of feelings
swift and flowing
as water.
The source appears to be
some inexhaustible
spring
within our twin and triple
selves;
the new face I turn up
to you
no one else on earth
has ever seen.

 ______________________________
While love is unfashionable
let us live
unfashionably.
Seeing the world
a complex ball
in small hands;
love our blackest garment.
Let us be poor
in all but truth, and courage
handed down
by the old spirits.
Let us be intimate with
ancestral ghosts
and music
of the undead.
While love is dangerous
let us walk bareheaded
beside the great River.
Let us gather blossoms
under fire.


_______________________________

When you wan't something really badly, fight for it.
Tooth and nail.
Nothing worth anything in life, ever comes easy.
Ever.

18 May 2012

?.


Has the silence endured long enough?
Are you satisfied now?
Did you get what you want?
Did you get to know what it is you do want?
Do you now believe it’s not in your hands?
Have you realised it never was?
What will you do about it now?
How will you write about it now?
Can you?
You can’t?
What is this then?

The silence has not endured long enough.
You are not satisfied now.
You did not get what you wanted.
You still do not know what it is you do want.
You do not believe it is in your hands.
You realise it can’t be.
You do nothing about it now.
You do not write about it now.
You can’t.
No. Yes.
Another blog entry.

23 Feb 2012

The Day I Knew I Wasn't A Poet

I will never be good enough
For you.
These words
Are dirt.
Compared to her words of gold.

I cannot write about politics and drama and Bollywood and come up with witty one-liners or write monologues and digress occasionally.
My words are no more than what I feel.
My words are what I feel.
Feelings?
"Amateurs write about their feelings when they write poetry."
I should have learnt to dress up the 'I' in six foot long red silk cloth.
Unrecognisable.
I failed.

We will never have a fight
Over you.
Because I quietly dug a grave for my 12 day dream and laid it to rest.
Newly-dead.

The first day I saw you
I knew you were too good to be true.
But I buried you under.
And I never looked back and I never missed it.

Till today.
When I saw and smelt and felt
What it is that will never be mine.

A quiet devotion
flared up from nowhere and engulfed my left brain.

If I didn't know better
I'd say I'm hopelessly devoted to you now.
I don't want to write.
I don't want to win.
But please, please, please
Let me stay
here.

6 Feb 2012

Read Your Mind.

Eye in the Sky


Jack of all trades.
Master of some.
Not this, though.
My left hand couldn't help me.
And my right hand wouldn't.


And obviously because this can't be an original idea- I'll tell you what inspired me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1IXQ1pKl_Q

4 Feb 2012

You.

Your breath intoxicates- cinnamon and spice.
Your eyes pierce- a burnt black ice.
Your skin blooms- orange-blossom in spring.
Your voice warms- dripping honey within
My heart.

Flame joins flame
And starts a blazing fire.
Burning tear-drop
After tear-drop.
Eyes overwhelmed with desire.

Yearning for what I touch but can't seem to hold.
Lost and lonely firefly shut out in the bitter cold.

My mind soars free, unfettered, undeterred,
What you paint in colour,
I create now with words.