Archive for July, 2010

Swirling Sands

The sand swirling around

stretches for miles

the heat beating mercilessly down

with no relief in sight

Little bits of green

Struggle to poke thro’ the ground

A lonely snake

Swims across the sands

As a tribe of Bedouin

Travel proudly by

When night falls

The critters start their melody

As the cold winds silently creeps by

The brilliant moon suspended

In the clear sky

Throws light upon

the arid beauty of the desert

Lying uncovered and vast


this is my contribution for One Shot Wednesday, hosted by Adam Dustus this week!

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54 Comments

The Gargoyle

Dark storm clouds

fly across the raven sky

The stony stare

Hidden in the dark

The crooked back

Bent over the edge

The gnarly claws

Holding onto the base

There sits the guardian

Atop the tower

The bell chimes the hour

And still he sits unmoving

Uncaring of the rain

Passing his cold stony lips

46 Comments

The Simple things

This is one of my first poems that I shared with my friends…they loved it so much…now I’m sharing this with you…hope you like it:)

Its not the bigger things that count

You might buy me expensive jewelry

But I would rather

Share a moment with you

Watching the setting sun

It’s the simple things about you

That I count as treasures

A smile as I wake you up

Yawning and stretching

The kisses at odd times

The way you brush away my tears

Your voice with a hint of a laugh

As you see me pout

The mischievous winks and smiles

When nobody’s watching

The way you creep up

and hug me as I cook

The silly little arguments

The silence as we walk by the beach

Just the two of us

In our very own world

Together today and for eternity

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100 Comments

Nobody’s Angel (for UDPS)

Lightning flash

Pouring rain

Steeped in the shadows of the night

I walk upon the cobbled street

Unmindful of the cold

That has long ago

Seeped into my bones

The steady stream washes away

The blood from my hands

They leer at me

As I step thro’ the door

And cry and plead

As I pull out my gun

I feel no mercy

For these dregs of the society

They say I look like an angel

So sweet and so pure

But the fact remains

That I’m so cold

I’m Nobody’s Angel


this is my first poem for Undead Poets Society…hope u like it…

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19 Comments

Rest

The waves crashed against the cliff

The wind whipped her long black hair

Reminiscing about the ages she lived thro

As she stood waiting

For the golden rays of the sun…

So many centuries…so many identities…I thought about my life as it was since the beginning…Flashes of it came to the fore…

An attendant in the court of King John, fleeing with the Romanovs during the Russian revolution, Watching the beheading of Queen Marie Antoinette, Watched the first play of Shakespeare come alive, the American revolution, paid a visit to Dr. Livingstone in Africa, been the wife of the Caliph of Persia and the mother of another, witnessed the sufferings of soldiers as a military nurse in WWII, paid homage at the passing of Mahatma Gandhi… it was a long list

I was tired. Tired of constantly moving from place to place changing my identity. Tired of constantly having to look over my shoulder. I was tired of watching the farce of human evolution. I was ready to let go and sleep.

My only regret was… Nikolai…But I guess it is for the best. If he knew how much I loved him, he would never let me go. And he deserved someone better than the world weary Queen of the damned.

The waves were already tinged pink at the horizon. I could feel my skin burning even now. Gritting my teeth, I watched my first sunrise in over a millennia.

And there she stood

Frozen for a second in time

Till the wind blew her ashes

Into the sea

Hidden in the shadows of the trees, Nikolai watched the beatific smile that lit up her face before her body turned to dust. “I will always love you…Sleep well Zoya”

Dust thou art And to dust thou returnest

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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The yagna

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Hamlet Act 1, scene 5

The heat was oppressing even as I got out of the car to step on the soil of my ancestors. My birthplace-a little village in the State of Kerala in Southern India.

My grandmother, a tiny woman with nerves of steel, gave me a hug and a broad smile as she enquired about my journey and told the maid behind her to place my bags in my old room.

After chit-chat and general gossip for sometime, she sent me to the ‘kolam’ (a large bathing pool). Dressed in the traditional settu-mundu(a two piece sari), I toweled my hair dry. It was wonderful being back in this house, back to my roots.

My grandmother set out my lunch for me and we settled down to feast on traditional keralite sadya or feast. I commented on how hot it was this year when compared to the last timed I visited. She explained that it had been a year since it had rained. The crops were suffering and drinking water was running out. Even the kulams had less water now, a fact that I had noted as I had my bath. The village panchayat had called a eminent brahmana to perform the rain invoking yagna. Today was the last day and it was supposed to rain at the close of the yagna.

I had my doubts about such things working, being of the general that believed in science and not in tradition as my grandmother put it. I explained that it was not tradition that I was against but superstitions like this yagna which seemed more like money making schemes to me.

I spent the rest of my afternoon meeting my cousins and the myriad aunts and uncles and neighbors in the village.

Apparently the whole village had gathered in the huge temple grounds where the yagna was being performed. I had to appreciate the brahmanas performing the yagna in this blistering heat even if I did not set much store by what they were doing.

Nevertheless, there was something to be said for watching a yagna being performed. Te chants and the smells and sounds added to the flickering flames were hypnotic and created an atmosphere that had to be seen to be believed. I could see the hope on the villager’s faces. Women in traditional sttu mundu with multi-colored blouses, a deep red bindi and sacred chandanam on their foreheads and the men elegant in their dhotis. The little girls played at a distance decked in brightly colored pattu-pavadas.

Splot…I blinked as a drop of water fell on my head…The crowd was murmuring in delight as drop after drop fell on the parched earth…

The rain came down in torrents and the people were dancing with joy as I looked on in disbelief as the yagna fire was completely put out by the rain it summoned.

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42 Comments

Again

I hold you close

N lean upon u

I feel d weight

of ur head on mine

The thump of ur heart

Against my ear

I look into ur eyes

As u whisper In my ear

And I feel myself

Falling in love

all over again

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18 Comments