To expel the outlines piled in my mind on paper,
With a light pencil in one hand,
And slice of rubber in the other,
I parent an impression of hope.
Therein lies the potential and the excitement;
A basic figure given the foundation of grandeur,
Amplifying in complexity before me,
With every scratch of graphite.
As it evolves, a heaviness sets in.
And I pause,
And I stop...
I've given something beautiful a half life, again,
As if it was birthed human,
With no flesh to cover its nerves,
And no breath to cry out its agony.
It remains still in my lap,
Eyes blank as ever staring, maybe, at me .
Out of humility, I tack it up on the wall,
A space shared by its many siblings.
I retreat shamefully with the promise to complete them,
Fumbling with the reality of what I do;
Playing God, I shape the husk of a soul,
And drop it when it's still brittle.
I thought I forgot you
I thought I long had you buried
Deep in my memory.
I thought you could no longer haunt me
Like you used to do so often.
I thought I got over you
Until your eyes met mine today,
Once or twice at most and that was about it.
I couldn't look at you,
I couldn't look at you without bursting into tears,
So I burst into laughter instead.
And I suppose that you saw through my fake act.
You were there in your corner,
There in your pedestal,
There in your elegance
Drawing something dangerously beautiful
And you were beautifully dangerous.
I could only watch you from a distance
And learn to admire you
Without touching you,
Without kissing you,
Or fucking you.
We exchanged a conversation
About random things
You know, like
How it took me about an hour
To take a proper picture of the cat you gave me,
How it tragically died,
How I didn't cry when it died...
But I actually did cry when it died...
You looked all right, seriously.
There in your peaceful world
That I no longer was part of.
There in your artistic mind,
There in your capacity to forget,
There in your tendency to break promises,
There in the awful effect you always have on me.
So you said goodbye
Because you had something to go back to.
I said goodbye
Even though I had nothing to go back to.
We parted ways once again,
Me with your drawing pencil in my bag
And you, you my dear, with a piece of me
Inside your pocket.
I remember you once said forever, but you only lied.
I went home,
I went home and cried.
Disappearance of a fish in a river: [Short poem]
Do you know 'how to draw' my daughter asked in sarcastic tone?
I took the challenge & drew a river running calmly and steadily.
Laughingly, she drew over the same she jumps over the river!
I drew a fish. Then
I gave color for the river. When I finished the mixture of colors to color the fish...I saw her drawing...'the fish already drowned, disappeared in the river; and, also, I could view her finished drawing of a 'Cat' on the riverbank quietly!
[It is my translation of a Tamil poem in a Tamil Magazine by one Mr.Saravanan. Thanks to him for the concept.]
I've doodled and drawn till my skin's
Smudged grey from graphite,
I've erased and erased till shavings
Covered my floor like a rug,
I've drawn and re-drawn till I think
maybe... maybe it's good enough,
Then I change it some more,
Shade a part again,
Stain my skin some more,
Re-trace lines again...
And I think this time it's just about right,
Not quite, but it's alright,
So I pick up my pencil and
When I was younger,
I wanted to be an artist.
I aspired to be someone
who made a difference,
Picaso or Vincent Van Gogh.
Someone who was remembered.
So like every little kid who has a dream,
I pursued it.
Saving up all the allowence I earned
In just 3 weeks
I had a total of $12.80.
Enough to fund the dream of a child.
I loved drawing.
From the minute I picked up my
I knew my dream was going to come true;
Even if it started with doodles...
of flowers and stick people.
So eventually I grew up and I gave up that dream
of being an artist that makes a difference.
I gave up,
because I couldn't master drawing the perfect person.
I couldn't draw
how the persons eyes shinned when they saw the love of their life,
I couldn't capture
the beauty in the young girls smile
as she ran through the field of daisys towards her father,
who was coming home from war.
I realized that you can't capture the beauty and the memories
that someone holds
with a dream and a $2.50 pencil.