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Parveen Sagar Aug 2012
She who is the agent of chaos
Knows not why she does dance
Shyly she poised on her tiptoes, bare
When I saw her just by chance

She, my Shiva dances atop the highest of the Himalayas
Humming and hoping I watch alone from below
And I wonder - how does the dust feel betwixt her toes?
How does this earth resist from swallowing her whole?

*****, a compass, she traces to encompass
A circumference within which she does reside
There, she spins, twirls, pirouettes a vortex
And the dust obscures her from my salacious sight

But I can still hear her

Blinded by the grit and deafened by the gale
I hopelessly follow the sounds of her anklet bells
But to scale these peaks with my bare hands, I slip, I fail
And fall forever into her infinite fractal spells

A feather, I drift towards her fictional siren calls
Travelling through echoes of silence and spectre
She punctuates her poses in the shape of question marks
Interrogating me, when she knows I cannot help but surrender

Who are you I ask, my agent of chaos?
Mute and vengeful she turns to strike like a cobra
With one blow she breaks her own spell
And refracts her remnants from fractal to mirror

She who is the agent of chaos
Danced a waltz upon my throat
Speechless and breathless I was rendered lame
But he knew it’s really all the same
Parveen Sagar Sep 2012
Trying to get up again
Trying to start up again
How many times, how many times yet

Staring at the ceiling, trying to find the cracks
The light creeps in, in millimetres towards the dank
Of this floor, where I can see still the shadows of clothes you used to throw
Hear still, the clicks of those red heels my ears long for
The cracks, they’ve opened up again
And in waves, you leap up again
(and in waves, you leap up, sweep me in)

Your dimpled pillow remembers yet the weight of your heavy eyes
It breathes your share, recoils in your sighs
In the air swirls your perfume again
Like rain water whirling down a clogged drain
Like smoke rising up from a just-snuffed flame
Like my poems for you caught in endless refrains
Again, and again and again and again

Trying to get up
Trying to start up
Better brush my teeth and shave
Get smart up again
Parveen Sagar Aug 2013
It’s a cold and moonless country night
He wanders alone, under dim starlight.
Squinting, he stalls, he trips and he falls,
Through fields of clovers, his fingertips crawl.
An extra leaf he seeks for her delight,
Long he’s walked, endless days and nights.

She watches him stumble from the stars above,
Twinkling, dazzling, burning, to help him along.
She sighs, she calls, over the horizon she sprawls,
Her silk-knit net to break his falls.
Yet he moves on, and on, singing unknown songs,
He read once in her fresh-press books, where he belongs.

Droopy-eyed he reaches a precipitous drop
Far below him, still waters shine, sprinkled with stars
Perilously poised, of this deceit he knows not
Caught in her silken weaves, he trips, dives,
Drips as a drop.
Parveen Sagar Jun 2011
I fell in love with a ghost
Upon whose grave I have committed great travesties
She was silent and seemed lost
And my feeble heart could not sustain her futile tragedies

The tragedies of millennia past, gasping in in-articulation
The suffocation of a future already always lost, without observation

I fell in love with loving a ghost
Who saw past my eyes into a formless ocean
Limitlessly there, she sunk and she rose
But alas was not of my wanting nor creation

She who is of minimal infinity
Taught me nought about nothing, nobody
I only recognize that it was her that never wants me
And I who longs achingly to be in her vicinity
Parveen Sagar Aug 2012
The sheets curled, unfurled, danced around her *******
As he turned, he burned, looked away from the tests
She took when they lay in bed – so quietly

She forced her toe through a tear in the sheets
The threads they popped in delight and defeat
And she smiled for the first time that night – so quietly

Her wide-eyes strained to see the stars
They dried and on the pillow they left their marks
And later, he’d turn around and mistake them for tears
As he’d done for all these years

But for now, he lay, like a fetus in a furnace
With thoughts of his failure and her subtle victories
She’d put her hand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear
That, it’s quite alright my dear, it’s quite alright – so quietly
Parveen Sagar Jun 2010
There was once a time
When I could look at you
And you could not make me

Address myself,
Undress myself

Then, I would only see
The light deflecting through
And there was yet no sublime
Copyright 2010 Parveen Sagar
Parveen Sagar Feb 2010
He skimmed and slipped over
Your skin, which he wished
Was his to touch; he stitched
His hand to yours and gripped

So hard you felt your bones,
Crush, curdle, you plead, don't let go
But he did, he tore away
Two weaved hands, they bled that day

Raw, afraid, with dread you felt
Your way through the darkness in which you dwelt
The hand it scarred, it left its marks
On the walls you scraped, bled, dried and marred
Parveen Sagar Jul 2012
Huddling and cuddling I held you so lightly
Do you remember those cold nights my child?
You were mumbling and drooling, and cooed ever so slightly
When I pointed at the moon, you looked up and smiled

“Mooooon!” I said to you, to which you replied,
“Mooo!”
And then I laughed a little - and maybe - I cried
We’d shared an experience so unfathomable in consequence
And by naming it, to you I had lied

Will you forgive me my child, for that cosmic crime?
The moment when I stole that which shone in your eyes
When you echoed my mistakes reverberating in time
But ignorant, I wrapped you, so snugly in those dark skies

Do you remember those cold nights my child?

In this cold night, the moon has lit up full again
Only tonight, our bodies share not this blanket of lights
Disillusioned with disillusions we have become since then
But still I wish to unwrap you from the words I write

My child, I ask you, look up once more,
But let not facticity blindfold your sight
Feel that which language bids you withhold
And play I pray with the rabbit that lives in the sky
Parveen Sagar Nov 2013
Deafened with decibels from all frequencies, seemingly all at once, they hit me.  I sit, wishing, wanting, waiting for something.

Sunk heavy in the knowledge: I have been here before.

I am no longer a visitor here, novelty has been exhausted. I have been everywhere, many times before, besotted. Space-less and time-less, uncharted memories lurk beyond my territories, unfathomable and inert, they, my unspeakable stories.

Instead, I sit here, lotus poised, pushing my toy train on the looped tracks of infinity. It’s really just an 8. Or perhaps I’ve misunderstood eternity. I have seen you before. You’re really just a shadow. Or perhaps I’ve misunderstood proximity.

And now you come to me once again, I try hard to derail my train, but you won’t let me. My hand chained, my eyes strained, I traverse blindly on my own continuity.
Parveen Sagar Jul 2010
Somebody once told me, about a thousand years ago, that she would yet arrive. Not through the frontgate, nor the sidegate, or any gate. But she'd come straight for you. Rushing in to to save you for the tragedies that have befallen you. She'll cure you of all ailment and cleanse you of every misdeed. She'll love you and absolve you, absorb you into her skin. But let that never be the end my friend, for you are not ever to comprehend.

She'll flow through, you, straight to the other side. A luminescence with wings, you'll feel her every delight. In spite of the world, in spite of every fight, you'll love her for never and gift her your sight.

— The End —