Mud, whiskey, death
and bad debts, the river's
high water, mysterious birds
flying south disappearing
like a youngest daughter,
no good men, bad intentions,
changing seasons, unexplained
pains, all of these are reasons
I've seen good women weeping
after the hardest rains came.

I stepped outside and all I see is the air you left behind
The candy bars we used to eat

I close my eyes and all I see are phosphene colors
The feelings broken down in a kaleidoscope

before
during the rains
cascades thundered
relentless
even without obvious clouds
distant weather systems
fed the tributaries of anger and insult
capacity endlessly breached


substrate delicately formed over time by layered injury
the dam holds firm
for the most part
every so often, words seep through
coursing gently down the lee side
sobbing

a welling up occurs less often now
barely cresting
only when the pain returns
memories then tumble over
free falling in a riot of muted grey
streaming

so explains
an evolution of tears

@journeyofdays

A few drivers,
mid-summer afternoon

lean against the divider,
paint peeling

some perch on it lightly---
indulge in hot group-talk;

the waltzing-shadow
of a banyan tree
opposite side of the
auto-rickshaw stand---

a street-art, delicate, dark-hued;

the phantom arms
hug
the disparate crew
in a tight family-embrace,
its breath tousling their hair

and it---
protects them from
the Mumbai heat!
@Sunil Sharma

You know it's getting bad when you don't bother to turn the lights on.

Fight or flight instinct in the form of rivers running dry. Feeling blurry, a forgery. The end is always the same, penalties lying in ditches and the sirens running red and blue like the fourth of July.

Shimmering sawdust that forgets how to become human again. Try to remember the moments you stilled into statue. They become important. Trust me.

This is not Jerusalem. There is no holy left. It's a too-human fight, and I hope what they say about time healing things is true because this scraping, this constant rearranging of the keys, it's too much.

When nothing makes it better, not the kisses, or the pills, or the planets. Nothing. The past and present chewing me up and spitting me out, until the future can get its hands on me too.

I am still trying to figure out right and wrong. I am still trying to find out where the bandages are, but it's hard, you know?

She had soft smiles and a degree in empathy framed in her office, but I couldn't stand her for more than a month. I could see her pen twitching in her hand. After all, there are boxes to tick if I get too honest.

I shouldn't have called my mom, or let her fish me out of the river. While I was coughing liquid from my lungs, I heard her tell the paramedic,

*She could have learned to breathe underwater, if only she'd tried harder.

The first time they call you names,
Leave.
The first time they make you feel worthless,
Leave.
The first time they hit you,
Leave.
The first time they leave you,
Don't go back.
The first time they take your life away,
Leave.
The first time you feel like you would be
better off on your own, than with the
person you love,
Leave.

None of the pictures are to burn,
no memory is going to be in my
heart's urn.
Looks like we have a chance to
see others and take a different turn.
You sure were one to teach me about love,
and I know there are thousands of things
I helped you learn.
Love is something that comes along,
you don't wait to earn.
Relationships don't include
attitudes that are stern.
When they do,
let it go and with yourself
be firm.
Carry on,
don't yet start searching,
just
learn.

On the barren lands
One lonely rose standing
just about to die