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Vivek Jul 2019
Descending one by one
a flight of stairs,
thoughts climb up
a day of despair

Vehicle parked in basement lot
Driving home made no sense
Enter the car, I did not
"and that made all the difference"

Public transport, window seat
summer evening, cold breeze
petrichor whiff, prolonged sniff

Descending one by one
conductors' whistle blow
refreshed senses recollect
lines from "Dust of Snow"
"Dust of Snow" by Robert Frost

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
Vivek Jul 2019
Choose to stay.
Wear your belief,
steer clear of influences
that are customized and advertised,
so that you live and don't get sold.

Choose to stray.
Impair your grief,
veer away from continuances
that are  dogmatically institutionalized  
so that you dream free and act bold.
How ironic, when the whole point is to not explain.
Her
Vivek Jul 2019
Her
Green light flickers.
Shower dies down breathing droplets.
Tiptoeing out, drying her palms
she leans against a snug wall.
Fingers glide across her screen,
forming effortless words,
pausing long............
reluctance arrests her from pressing "send".
Whispering feet cover some distance,
forming impressions on frayed carpet.
She sits cross legged,
in the middle of her bed,
hair still wet and disheveled,
fragrance delicate and fruity,
wrapped in pink polka bed cover,
phone sliding and gliding in her hand,
tablet by her side with two open tabs.
Brown eyes **** and alternate
between screens and toenail polish.
Her thoughts tied with proximity,
in the moment, fighting fallacy.
It was in need of urgent repair
the toenail with purple polish.
Contemplating her ever changing view,
her body feels entirely lethargic.
Mind amped and racing,
prancing from one thought to another.
Fidgety fingers persist to flirt with "send".
Lissome lips suggest she is now amused,
at the idea of him waiting for her
She changes color.
Vivek Jul 2021
Distant lights throw golden shimmer
through docked ships and sail boats;
A look from far away lands
you would think the island floats;

Some are born in the Island
some come here and settle;
For the ones who've had a long stand
needless worries are little;

Silence isn't scary, crowds too familiar;
Even as mind is a little weary,
lapping waves wipes the shore clear.
Waters placid and peaceful
whispers tacit and silent;

But for the reluctant some
it gets rough and violent;
For they come here, visit and then go
they who just come fishing to and fro

It is for them the silence is scary
and the weather raging and rampant,
even as all is tranquil and serene,
nature too benign and benevolent;

Helpless heart grapples with its part
restless mind strggles to balance sense;
They wouldnt know to stop or start
wouldn't know they come from whence;

When heart is am island, mind is the shore;
If mind is an island, where would the heart go?
Vivek Jul 2019
A chameleon tenderly sits on my bike silencer
And to shoo it away I create a gentle stir
I shake my heavy bike gingerly left and right
Not knowing I am starting an adamant fight
Unflinching, he signals he wouldn’t go away
The slender young reptile has resolved to stay

Tilting his head and raising his lids,
Without changing color, tightly he sits
To shake his gentle balance and poise,
I raise brashly some loud engine noise
He just moves in vibration like in a dance
And waits for me to change my stance;

I kick my vehicle showing some violence
He watches me in complete rapt silence
Picking up a small stick I take an aim
And I throw at him with a sharp exclaim,
As the stick misses him with a bit of a sway
He turns his neck and looks the other way

Taking a deep breath, I now change my bearing
Rolling my bike to my garden with some caring
He looks at me again, now with a smile,
Slowly he descends like walking down an aisle

Before he runs into the bushes, he blinks at me
As if to acknowledge the change in my strategy
I can’t spot him anymore, he has quickly camouflaged
Leaving me sad and thoughtful of what I had envisaged.
Vivek Jul 2019
Never took to reveal a look in face book
Not followed for my chatter on twitter
Nothing fancy on my cam for Instagram
And those green double ticks steal my kicks

Venturing in a different spectrum as I may
One where you write what you want to say
And scroll it up in a gentle way
Tie it neatly so it won’t unfold
In a way that in a wrap it would hold
They who would have to read have to unwind
Both oneself and what they have been told.

The birds would carry my message
Wafting through a gentle voyage

Don't box me in a pigeon hole,
I prefer a pigeon world
Vivek Jul 2019
Seabirds singing, watch us sailing
we row our boats gently with the flow,
moonbeam hitting silent waters,
floating along talking trivial matters,
high on spirits, we drink tonight,
to ward off all our sorrows.
Meekly do we hit the shore, or
remain exploring like before?

Calm waters, but not a stream.
Merry banters, but not a dream.
Vivek Jul 2019
Tempted by a hint,
just a little hint,
of unbridled thought
and an output
that can border on radical

to take a breather
and attempt negotiating

negotiating more words
To Listen,
To Talk,
To act.

whiffed.....
waiting.....
Vivek Jul 2019
Pursed lips, measured gaze
That is how I lie, with smile in the eye.
A moment of haze and your heart does sink
Confused in daze by my pretty little wink

Yes I hide colorful lies,
Layered in circles with bright eyes.
Yes I know you’re not much wise
And so I decide to be not so nice.

— The End —