The Eiffel

Like a familiar rush,
That of a first date,
A little nervous, mixed with anxious,
And little butterflies giddy with excitement.
Simmering hope,
And jitters of ‘this could be it’,
Shaking legs and beating heart,
She walks toward the gate.

She had known it from before –
The feelings that it strikes,
Had read about in books,
Had watched it movies all her life.
In the city of love,
With bridges and cathedrals,
Sitting next to a vintage carousel,
The Eiffel stood out.

No realistic expectations,
She had dreamt it too much-
A little rosé and cold medicine,
Newly, out of words.
It had been a long road,
There had been prayers,
Lost loves, some tears,
And a happy, hopeful girl.

A long sigh,
Under the glittering lights,
It was the Eiffel,
Beckoning her home.

February 1, 2019

Lavender Field

In a field full of lavender,
Dressed in a pink dress,
Heart on my sleeve,
I’m dreaming.

Pulling together my thoughts on a page,
Of my happy things, and my happy place,
I’m dreaming –
In a field full of lavender,
Under a clear blue sky.

Those dandelions, and 11:11s,
Closed eyes, and sighing whispers,
Amidst a purple daze,
In my mind’s peaceful maze,
I’m dreaming.

Nestled in the spot,
As the sun starts to set –
Over the lavender fields,
A mental picture, and my page as a pensieve,
I’m happy, I’m dreaming.

January 31, 2019

Tapping of the Rain

Staring blankly ahead, as the discreet tapping of the rain began,
Blooming Peonies in the vase on the table by the window,
Like caught in a moment of joyous wonder, her hand in his hand.

As the sky tore up faster, pouring with lightning and thunder,
Dressed in hurried slippers, stolen kisses and gleaming gazes,
The umbrella left astray, they jumped on their feet.

Growing muddles in the park, mixed with that fresh smell of rain,
They danced around in their garden,
Adding the sounds of laughter to the chain.

In these little memories of time,
Of love, of laughter and of his contagious smile,
She quietly took a picture – one for her mind.

January 22, 2019

Springtime Flowers

It’s been a while since the flowers bloomed,
Since the trees tinseling heavy with snow didn’t gloom,
And the slippery paths wear heavy with boots.

It’s been a while since she picked her pen
Since she distracted herself from distractions within,
And wrote down –what came to her mind then.

But with the weather getting warmer,
And the shooting peonies in Spring,
A whisper in her heart, she sat with her pen again.

January 18

Road Rage

I quit driving because of bad timing:
I couldn’t brake fast enough.
‘Slow down,’ my dad would say, and I
would stop abruptly instead.
I do not have that gear.

*

When you said, ‘Let’s take it slow’,
I was already at the altar,
waiting for you.

Our car crashed before you could make it there.

– Smita Mathur

Silences

I battle many monsters in my head,
each a Hydra, Medusa.
I can’t wrap my head
around the heads
to be beheaded
without turning to stone.

Nietzsche lied.
We have gazed into the abyss long enough.
and she has never
not even once
gazed back.

Happiness Collides

Happiness collides,
With a little sorrow and mumbling lies.
Knew you from a time before,
Knew enough, to know you more.
You continue looking,
Straight into my eyes.
Talking in another language,
I couldn’t confide.

I still remember the softness
Of your beautiful eyes.
I miss the way you looked at me,
And how you made me smile.
All those pretty flowers,
On the day things went bad.
I also remember the day,
You left me, sad.

There’s this happiness,
And an old melancholy.
It’s like from another time,
We knew and when we met.
Formality and manners,
Greetings and words.
What have we come to-
From lovers to this?

I hug you tight,
And you hold me close.
We don’t talk of the past,
Just smile at us.
I still feel the fireworks,
The little, that are left.
I still feel the happiness,
And the sorrow, that we fell.

I cannot understand what this is,
What this meeting meant.
I have nothing bad to swear,
Only good feelings to bear.
So, one thing went wrong,
And it was a big blunder.
But, what we had,
I’d cherish forever.

Hope, you.

The gush of the wind,
Awoke my slumber,
I reached for my phone,
Nothing again, I trembled.
Languishing with my thoughts,
Awaiting escape to another slumber.

Whole twinkling passes,
Nothing again, I know.
My imagination runs with wings,
Thinking my phone would ring.
You’d want to come back,
I wouldn’t have to ask,
You would, you would call.

But, I told you not to.
Never to call again.
Yet, at every tick,
I hope it’s you.

The sound of my own breath,
Too loud, yet empty.
In this lull of the night,
If I could wish for you,
I might.
Hope falls like dried leaves of fall,
Nothing again, tempted to look.
Fallen daisies, hyperbole anticipations,
Empty answers and my fragmenting heart.
I told you not to, but I hope you do.

Ouroboros

I can’t watch you lounging in your chair

in only a vest and boxer shorts

and not feel like

this is it.

 

I am made of desire

and it swallows me whole.

It never ends. 

 

 

Luring Hope

A tiny smile spreads,
As another message beeps.
Like a simple enchantment,
In words, we speak.
Some delight develops,
And, fills their sober heart.
Under the shadows of the night,
There sings a chorus in their hearts.

Like the stars that stir,
Talking as they twinkle;
The lovers, underneath,
The stars, they resemble.
Into the early lights of dawn,
Forgotten were the hours for slumber.
The smile spreads longer,
As the phone beeps again.

Beneath the moon,
That both share.
In faraway places,
Their hearts briefly despair.
In notes of silence of a lingering wait,
A ballad of affection slowly creates.
And so returns the smile,
With lures of words and a hope.

Little Things

Those red red roses,
The kisses on noses,
The whispering at night,
In barely dim light.
Stealing glances
From far away,
That smiling
In that way.
Wishing morning,
Waving goodnight.
Waking up early,
To talk the night.

Those little things
That make a whole.
Those little things,
Make the stomach roll.
Those little things,
Which matter more.
Those little things,
Make us love more.

 

 

September 28, 2010

With Time

Long walks in silence
and maybe sometimes with little songs,
Time sneakily rewinds-
and reminds her what she had forcefully forgotten in mind.

A heavy sigh and she remembers-
the happy times.

Long calls into the night
and the conversations had with just blurry eyes.
The little presents that came sealed
in ribbons and kisses;
The hand-written cards,
little notes, and large.
It all comes to her mind.

Sometime’s on a long drive,
A part of a song she couldn’t despise,
and in the moments when something was very funny,
or bizarre, or just crummy;
In those early hours of dawn-
with sleep, safely, gone;
And in the late hours of many nights-
when dreams didn’t arrive;
With the colour of someone’s shirt,
and the smell of a certain scent-
Longer than just a moment-
He strayed back in (her mind).

Following the sigh,
sometimes, she smiled.
The other times her eyes twinkled,
with tears ready again to sprinkle.
A stabbing pain in the back,
and anger, and frustration followed track,
There is no going back.

Shaking her head,
and picking up pieces that fell;
She promised herself-
She won’t let her break again.

April 5, 2017