Tuesday, February 26, 2013


a poem on detachment

If I could fly, if I could fly
Would you spare me the ground, would you?
If I could wish, if I could wish
Would you spare me the truth?
And if I could compose music
Would you spare me the audience?
You see, I don’t know, who you are
But would you spare me the mirror?

And why are you standing here by me
when my world won’t even accommodate your shadow?
And why do you even listen to me,
the words between us would be lost
If there’s a speck of light in this time
let it be suspended here in this frost
for these moments to be warm in our memories
If I could leave, if I could leave
Would you spare me the memories?

These skies offer us nothing
no boundaries between the tenses, past and present, present and future
Yet we look above as if something’s there to look after us
And you wait here in the yellows and oranges of heat and rain
Our dampened feet would just stay in the pool of rain
Tomorrow our feet would dry but the pool would remain
If I could run away, if I could run away
Would you spare me the chase?

I wear a crown of broken thoughts studded with twigs of freedom
And the twin wings of light and dark carry me under the skies
Yet you try to join and understand the broken
The red edges of disjoint thoughts have bled
These stains won’t leave your fingers then
My impression on your world would leave an empty dent
You have already carried yourself too far, all along
If I could hurt myself, if I could hurt myself
Would you spare me the healing?

So offer me an escape, you can’t catch up with me
Let the words and music stay at their own place
Those are not to be carried around; you will lose them and the pace
You would land nowhere and they would offer you no solace
Coz tomorrow is yet to come and you don’t know
The music it would play for you
The words that would splash on the glass of that time
That other pair of feet that would stay in the pool
So buy the space for your future now
Don’t get carried away, the present always decays
What remains belongs to no tense
So If I could stay, if I could stay
Would you spare yourself my company?

image source: http://www.lintcoat.com/tunes/mono-hymn-immortal-wind

Thursday, February 7, 2013

A Guest post from Glad2bawoman: Conversation With Myself

This is a guest post from glad2bawoman, a website that specially celebrates the success and freedom of women. With various articles written from the women's perspective and by women, this is surely a step towards furthering the liberation of women in today's era. The following is a poem that captures the transient phase in a journey of a woman and how she is dealing with it by having a conversation with herself. 

"In moments of solitude and even amidst crowd,
I’ve often talked to myself out loud,
And wondered about the myriad things,
The moony tinges and gossamer wings,
Why do I smile smiles that hide a pang of pain,
Why do we calculate life in terms of loss and gain?
Why is freedom reduced to simply a term?
And we live a life, enslaved, worse than a worm.
I stand solitary in this journey, stranded and cold,
No heart to comfort me, no arms to hold,
Walking through this maze, I might find myself,
I’m melting away to oblivion, like the candle-flame,
Dusty and defeated, I lost in this vicious game,
My cries break the dead silence, yet heard by none.
The void within cries out in agony - all said and done.
All that is pent-up within, I want to shout out to the skies,
But sinister shadows choke my voice with lies.
How long shall I walk on, tired and numb, I know not,
The vast unknown lies ahead, yet nothingness is all I’ve got."

For more on Glad2baWoman, visit http://www.glad2bawoman.com/