The Storm

Inspired by a quote of Kafka 'The storm which blew me out of my past eased off.'

Now and then, the storm which 
Blew me out of the past eases off
I part its curtains and peep in
Into boxes of hope, dream and pain.
Some colour, some light, death in vain.
Tiny footsteps between flower beds
Shiny barrettes, a pink watering can.
Blue shoes, broken tooth, yellow school van.
Marigolds, pansies, sweet pea
Apricot jam, hunter's beef, patties
Jude, Tess, graveyard, pink tea
The storm blows, it eases off
The reel hiccups, splutters and stops
Credits roll, eyes fill and we have landfall





Jude - Jude the obscure by Thomas Hardy
Tess - Tess of the d'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

Hanging In The air

A page flies, rolls over, sticks to the ledge

Ink splashes, words fall, run off the edge
Leaves get the same, rain drenched, decrepit 
Petals trampled upon, torn, desecrated

Not all sheets make a book or words a poem
Leaves, laurel wreaths; petals, bouquets
Smiles don't make happiness or tears easement
Dreams are not reality nor all of life meaningful

Life moves on still, while you hang in the air 
Resigned to a lifelong sadness, an affray 
The heart breaks open; kernel soft and yielding
And there is no change, no, none conceding 

I Love You's

So I'm told my I love you's are put on display
Sometimes they are paraded, all basking emblazed
Healing hearts, charming beauties, lighting cities 
Enrapturing, capturing magic in dazed possibilities


But why do I hear mine clatter 
Shiver, shard, splinter and splatter
Chips flying, falling, my saboteur
Choked, suffocated, gasping for air


Glass like, mottled, numb, heart-broken
Mute, I declare, with a death stare, frozen 
Speechless monks parading in the wilderness
Mannequins in drag, puppets of providence

Seasons within, Seasons without‏

Blue skies above, swirling leaves beneath

Fiery, lambent sun-lit valley

Waterfalls from hooded lids, frigid breeze

Straw houses on tornado alley 

Seasons within, seasons without

Quiet versus turbulent, straight or oblique

The dark side of the moon, the mirror's face

One extraneous, the other intrinsic so to speak

Rub the sides of the coin; flip, precipitate
My sortition, my drawn lot; equal, dispassionate

Mortuary and Metamorphosis‏

Easing out, the casing falls with a clatter.

I step away, I will greet you
Beyond me the mortuary holds me.
I sit with one, my summer death
White top complimenting the black skirt.
A spring one too, paler still against the blue. 
The autumn enigmatic yet, tired. And winter,
burnt out from a wait too long.
Adieu; adieu, I bring the new.
The old out with the old you.

You hold me thus so‏

Dark days, dull moments, my dazed life
And cups of amber, boxed lanterns,
my stopgaps of light

The eyelashes, a caress on my heart.
Smile a gentle hug. And inflections
of voice a tender symphony

A chink in the armour. Pierced,
And I am held. Whirling up, spiralling
Down. Captive in an unbound light

Wajd

Wajd ki baat karte ho
Wajd ki baat hoti hai
Barzakh ka aalam hota hai
Jab mere paas hote ho

Sufi ne kaha dil kho do
Zaat mita do, hasti bemol kar do
Haq keliye wijdan dhoondo. Wijdan
Hai, hota hai. Jab mere paas hote ho



inspired by

To love someone else enough to forget about yourself even for one moment is to be free. The mystics and the churchmen talk about throwing off the body and its desires, being no longer a slave to the flesh. They don’t say that through the flesh we are set free. That our desire for another will lift us out of ourselves more cleanly than anything divine.

— Jeanette Winterson

The Prodigal Return

The prodigal return out of time, out of turn
Non-sequential, irrelevant.
The discordant note in the orchestra
A chisel accidentally slipping on a face

The clock has turned as have the seasons.
The cobwebs have died of old age.

The rust falls off gratefully in my palm.
 Of the door left ajar far too long.

The gratefulness had not come.
Prayers were not said
The wait was not over.
It had never been a deliberation.

Remnants

Like the residuum of a lingering illness
A cough here, a spasm there, an ache

So do you nest in, fragment like, a shiver
Chafed, remnants of a love gone, frayed ends

Remnants of a story unsaid, fading sunset
All remnants,  remains of the day, extant

Welcome Back

Oh yeah, welcome back
I have missed you
The walls have been up
And I have been building more

High up, higher and higher
Reinforced, dungeon dark
And tough, oh so tough
Till came a flicker

The lightest of touch
Butterfly wings, feather-like
A gentle breeze. Enough!
A smile tipping off the edge

Of eyelashes that caress your
Heart barely so. Fingers that
Electrify, sun-burst, lightening
Fireworks across the sky

Welcome back
Welcome back to ecstasy
And to agony; soul-sisters
To the blues and my shine too


January 2014