akshay
Indian
He is quick, thinking in clear images; / I am slow, thinking in broken images. / / He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images; / I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images, / / Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance; / Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance. / / Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact, / Questioning their relevance, I question the fact. / / When the fact fails him, he questions his senses; / When the fact fails me, I approve my senses. / / He continues quick and dull in his clear images; / I continue slow and sharp in my broken images. / / He in a new confusion of his understanding; / I in a new understanding of my confusion. / / ~Robert Graves~
I saw you today
under a bright sunless sky.
You,
bathed in green,
by a demure waterfall.
And you
moving
to the peacocks' calls
trilling,
through the leaves
that enshrined our midst.
You moved without care,
and you knew I was there.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 1:39 PM UTC
When you fold your legs
and hug your knees;
a pearl encased
in a sheaf of leaves.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
Beating through walls of years
like a never-ending heart machine.
She walked in nonchalantly,
dawdling on wisps of the summer breeze.
The sun fell on her lashes,
breaking into seven colours
that make merry so fleetingly.
And returning like a moody river,
her smiles, like pools of dew,
her laughs, like torrents of petals,
her silence, an exciting mystery.
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 12:42 PM UTC
Don’t scratch at my heart,
I sealed its doors,
and all its crevices
with a swathe of purpose.
Don’t engulf my thoughts,
I built them strong,
with the clay of meanings,
under yesterday’s sun.
Don’t pierce into
my simple hopes,
I locked them safely
in a box of mirth.
Don’t enter my dreams,
I gave in to their absurdity,
with a promise to seek
what they ask of me.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
As much as I don't understand you,
as much as I believe you cannot be defined,
getting close to you is easier than others,
and sometimes I touch what cannot be mine.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 8:46 AM UTC
These days in college,
in my tiled box of a student-room.
In known people’s faces,
computer screens and cheap,
boring food; there is a voice
missing.
It says, “I’m ignorant”.
I’m ignorant about news,
about history and politics.
It says, I don’t know
what infects the homeless man I saw
scratching his rough hair on the road.
I don’t even know
which shampoo my friend recommended.
These days in empty walks,
in serious thoughts, slow books
and un-plucked guitar strings;
there is a voice missing.
It says, “I’m not sure”.
I’m not sure how these coins
landed up in my pocket.
It says, I’m blind to the ripped muscles
of the department store worker.
I get bothered though,
when the department store is closed
once, every month.
Somewhere between clean walls and a moving fan,
amidst loud horns, dust and bustling traffic,
I’m missing.
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 8:44 PM UTC
Many times, when daydreaming
feels like a task.
I think of you,
and everything that was,
before it couldn't be.
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 10:44 AM UTC
Sometimes, I feel like
letting go of knees,
arms, neck and spine.
Like red satin splayed
across the floor,
the light embracing its folds.
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 4:49 AM UTC
I found a pebble today
and tomorrow, I will drop it in your bag.
One day, when you are
lying alone on your floor
and your skin
feels like smooth, white plastic,
you will find this pebble
lying beside you.
One day, when you are
fighting someone to save your life,
this pebble will fly out
of your wild hair,
and land in that person's eye.
And every time you look at me
this pebble will itch,
stuck in the folds of the dresses
covering your body.
You might flick it away then,
but you will never notice
that at home, it will lie
quietly between your shoes
and give you company.
Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 12:28 PM UTC
Today, your eyes were pools.
I took a careful dip,
and it burst open
the levee in me.
Today, your fingertips were candy.
I drooled at their sight
like a child, unassuming,
about the wonders of life.
Today, your smile was fresh.
Like a fresh sprinkle
of salt, on my paper-cut fingers,
after all those words about you,
I had frantically put down.
I’d tell you the truth,
but I’ll save it for tomorrow.
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC