To Mars

I can see Mars from my window
Against a chalky grey sky
Bulging out, red eye of the Devil,
A pole of my solitude


Every day I walk beside all
And your hands brush against mine
Every day I murmur under my breath
The calm of your eyes
The undulation of your lips.


And beaming sunshine in gleaming vessels
A deceased telescope
 My Mars watches out for me
Every day he is farther
And every day I am alone.


Give me a hand to dream
A mumbled care to hold
Give me a silence for the gorging tears
And a kiss for my soul.

On Life and Memories...

Life mocks memory and 
Tears trickle down
Gloom of days gone by
Blues of stuffed desires
And
Desires of stuffed blues
By gone days of gloom
Down trickle tears
And memory mocks life

Pangs...

I have seen her lying on her back … her fair hand over her slightly-agape mouth to stop the choking sobs. I have seen her cheeks glistening, lines culminating at the corners of her mouth. She tasted their saltiness, too lost to wipe the streaks off. Her voice grew nasal. Every time she had to talk she cleared her throat, sneezed and lied that she had caught a cold.

Thus she deceived her room-mates in a place far away from home. Walls changed colors, rooms changed shape. Surprisingly, back home, her mother always found out. Perhaps the poor lady thought of it as a result of homesickness. Assuming it as the only cause, tear drops would inadvertently taint the mother’s cheeks as well. She could not have been farther from the truth.

I have seen her lying thus on her back … eyes staring blankly at the walls, thoughts racing in her mind, always keeping pace with the tears on her cheeks.

He didn’t care. I don’t know how long she would.

Possessed

Image courtesy: From internet

My ruffled hair stretches from the skies

Unto grounds of utmost desires

My feelings, crawling earthworms,

Only a soil so moist can make me sleep.

Give me a tear of your own

I shall water the sapling of my heart

I am parched, I bleed thirst

Take my memories, let me weep.

Let me fly now, some place in blue

Let me fly now, no more shall I
In my cocoon, helplessly cry.
Despondent tears, grudges of life;
No more shall I give in to strife.
Peels of feelings, throbbing wild-fire, buried somehow;
Inflicted pains, bruises and wounds…let me fly now.

Some place in blue, pale blue of sky
Weary feathers shall rise so high!
And tears that were shed would now cease,
As I let myself taste the breeze.
Shackles of your glory, now fallen and untrue
Let me fly now, spreading my wing, some place in blue.

TRUST

Watch me open my limbs

Slowly move my fingers

Spread my hands apart

Watch me slowly move my lips

Watch my eye lids flutter

I were asleep

I were hidden

Under layers and layers of silk

A sudden ray of light

In a thick foggy morning

Vapors of Unholy rising around

You discovered me

You have watched me open my limbs

You have watched my body slowly opening to you

You have watched with wonder-struck eyes

Gulping every movement of my fragile being

You have marveled at who I am

 You have smiled as you watched me grow

I have opened my eyes to you

I have seen your eyes

The gentle flickers in your wonder-stuck mirrors

I closed my eyes again, so content that I had been found

I lay there, blood running fast in my spirited veins

My body bent with the shivers of excitement

Of being watched

Of being marveled

My cheeks turned red in response

Blushing, like wine sparkling in your glass

My heart full of trust

My skin felt warmer with every passing minute

Heating up fast

Tremors of heat balling up

I opened my eyes to you

To feel again the warmth of your eyes

And then I saw…

The blood devilish red in your eyes

The fire of darkest forest in them

Burning like lava

Burning my skin, melting my fragile being

My eyes wide in horror

My delicate lips crumpled up in shiver

Your touch running through me

Tremors of distrust making waves in my heart

First Love

Colors and shapes myriad

Dreams that form even when eyes are unclosed

Simple wishes that take complex forms

Shapes and colors, too myriad to comprehend

Everything starts with a simple straight line

A plane smooth and shiny

Emotions of colors, reflected

A rainbow of passion brimming within

Willing to erupt, yet restrained

Eyes stare endless, the depth in them immeasurable

A still smile lingers on the edges of parted lips

Thoughts meander about

A face vague yet dear

Trust and hope all seem to make sense

Life feels worth living again

The straight line will someday converge

To a complex helix of intense pleasure

Someday maybe the dreams would come true

Those that were seen with unclosed eyes

The naughty girl called Love

Love, I believe, was once a sweet child. She rested in the hearts of people and gave them solace. Who knows when she got naughty and since has started doing all the mischief!

Of late whoever I have been talking to is suffering from the same disease: love. Someone is in a relationship and does not know if s/he is actually in love. Someone was in a relationship, then broke up, and yet is extremely close to the person he loved and has no clue what is going on between them. Someone is hopelessly searching for an answer as to why his true love was not returned.  Was it even something you could even remotely call love? Or was it a mere game of two hearts, just there and then it vanished? Everyone went their separate ways and everything was forgotten. Except when you suddenly remember those brief moments of togetherness. You want to believe maybe they were true, but you have made a choice and have to live by it.

I understand man is what his decisions are. Every situation brings with a gamut of possibilities. It poses to you a few alternatives. You choose one, based on your circumstances. Sometimes you are confident and sure of your choice and sometimes you are not. Nonetheless you make a decision. You make a choice. Then you live by it. Sometimes while you are doing that you feel your choice was wrong. You might want to go back and make it right. But that path is closed. Hence comes pain and remorse. Sometimes you just accept that no matter you are hurting, you got to live by the choice you made. So, you make compromises with your own heart, make it go the way you want it to and live a content life. Content, but only in the outward appearance.

Underneath a thin mask of happiness you are broken, you are as fragile as a piece of glass. You have a smile painted on your face, you talk to people and make them happy. Underneath you are burning. In most cases, you will realize it. In certain cases, if you are lucky enough, you will not even know that you are not happy. You will forever remain in the illusion of a happiness that you decided for yourself, and never actually got.

Nevertheless, life goes on, seasons change and rivers drag their dirt to the oceans. Hence we shall live, on and on, whether or not we find the true meaning of Love. Until then, let Love be the naughty girl that she is and help it create heaps of pages and web-pages of pathetic love-stories, or maybe one or two hopeless blog entries as these.