Poetry Out Loud

Poetry Out Loud

How many times with a silenced soul
Shall I endure the cosmic days
Of a low station in life, with submissive smiles

The long days of labour
And rivet of inner adamantine
This spirit that survives

In the buzz of the future
That travels like an indolent housewife
Across horizons and cleaning months

Of leaving chauvinistic husbands
And finding freedom in motherhood
How many times shall we meet then?

At the juncture between the pains
Where suffering becomes a kind of sport
And life the nimble lessons we bleed

Where the only ingredient left
Is the pure resilience of living
On the edge of pangs and hope.

Dream in Which I am Separated from Myself

We won’t go ambushing grief
She will find us – trembling, naive
To the power of our tragedy
This is not cinematics, circus-stunts
This is our Life, calm and bleak
Sweet, with unexpected concerts

I won’t be going to enormous cities
Like you, I’m staying put, staying
Humble, simple, in the experience
Of an Alumni from all that I was supposed to be
We won’t go hijacking, ‘everything in it’s rightful place’
You used to say so casually, making it easier

To leave, to return to your liberated ‘freedom’
I won’t find salvation so easily, I’m afraid
My dad doesn’t say a word about, depression
We won’t go hiding form fate, it will hit us
Black, blue, purple – three syllables in chaos
I am my father’s father, ill-mooned withdrawal

Quarantined in these little years
Waiting for whole days, that never come
I am tired of being criticized, I am cold
I imagine myself happy, in line to be touched.

Sing Your Little Heart Out

Heart, have you not sat
At the feet of other hearts?
Do you not know the pain

We all bear a part, our share
Or more, gilded to our golden tenderness
If you have suffered, know this:

To become more sensitive is a gift
To possess new vision for compassion
And more pearls for empathy’s sincerity

Heart, without your scales of highs and lows
Who would we be? Just another
Organized machine, artificial winner of what?

But Heart, don’t wander too long
Out in the market full of exotic perfumes
But focus on one intoxication, one purpose

That your secret parts might come to fruition
And you art of miracles, might manifest
Something genuine from your humble services.

A Drop of Blood Like Shadows

My shadows have remained
Behind there, like a midnight guest
That doesn’t know when to leave
But the truth of the matter

Will surface, in sleep
The frosted sacrifices for art
Will suffice, the choice to be free
How the house is altogether preoccupied

Dust to dust, something called love
In the world, perhaps it’s not for me
Into a sterner living I must surrender
Why? Because life’s calculation found me wanting

There is no mercy in these stark designs
Of fate, no morning ray that sweet
Uncouth are the women who left me
Just as with my mouth I used to travel

Down their spines, their hips, their hands
Like a quiet shawl of tremulous abandon
I must warm myself with paler dreams
The dread of separation still in my gut

Heavy as a lost gleam of a lake of swans
There is nothing to forgive, nakedness is ruthless
My shadows have remained
I only sow the reaping done, a late comer

To reality, and ecstasy and maturity
I arrive at incredible vexation
A rage to break the barriers of sheltered patterns
Afloat in me like ice in foaming wine.

Without a Sequel

Today I am in the longitude of faith
Last night, I did not fight for sleep
I became a legend of my own struggle
And in most lovely lapsing

I forgot my self importance
My little raw soul on a row like this
Turned its slow features on like warm milk

Towards the greatest goal
Today I am in the latitude of invisible
Reaches, last night I let yesterday go

The golden echo of those sobs were drowned
I have begun to die, each and every day
I become a legend to my own gains

The lovely body of my unique mind
A blank interim before divinity
As a fury of flowers and light

My sacred earth in my day was my curse
Today I am compass at my own reaches
Inextinguishable like a most treasured dream.