"respired" poems
i was born in a ghost hospital
a pile of stones and then a blank slate
with new antiseptic rooms
invisible blood-stained linoleum
and the sound of rubber tennis shoe soles
replacing the place where
i was born with dying stars in my eyes
and supernovae bursting with the
last of their fiery energy before they
blink out of existence
like the hospital where i was born
am i now to be a woman
without true north
a single brick from the single place
where i respired freely and
crisp breaths of truth passed
like whispers over my wordless lips
before the oozing obsidian night
slowly crept up and
wrapped itself around me like
a flea infested blanket
and the blinding white light
of a growing chain reaction
a deafening ring in my ears
nothing
then slow realization that
i'm still alive
battered by beta particles
attacked by alphas
and i'm alone in the nuclear winter
to trek towards my kaaba
the only piece of
where i came into the world
and was the baby girl that
my parents cradled in their
awkward hesitant arms
the little angel my father thought
would certainly break
into a million pieces by the slightest breath of wind
and scatter to heaven
for where else should such innocence be?
i yearn for that brick
from my hospital
because its foundation was built
on something apart
from eating disorders
bipolar disorder
suicide attempts
neat lines of cuts in various stages of healing
when i hold that stone in my hand
residual sand from the
demolition site crumbling
as i turn the cement over
and over
its warmth and weight so real in my hand
that i can see a dim light in a window
a glowing blonde kissing
her black haired beau
and the baby in her arms
theirs
even just for that night.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
without the humans
pedaling along like
ants following paths
the redwoods still stand
still and mighty and feeling
the faintest breeze and dampest
touch of the birds nestled between
branches
never moving unprovoked or uncaused
they wait for nothing because there is
nothing to a redwood but the earth and the sun and
the rain and the ants still pedaling between grooves in her
hardened flesh, no wringer so efficient and wise *******
fallen water and moist air through the tips of toes and out into
the world above the wood ceiling so green and full and bourgeoning
life into the lungs of the moving types unable to stand still and breathe
and watch their god turn miracles by unspoken stories of growth and sheltering
persistence and resolve to manufacture life and color from dirt and water and air so
quietly respired
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
without the humans
pedaling along like
ants following paths
the redwoods still stand
still and mighty and feeling
the faintest breeze and dampest
touch of the birds nestled between
branches
never moving unprovoked or uncaused
they wait for nothing because there is
nothing to a redwood but the earth and the sun and
the rain and the ants pedaling between grooves in her
hardened flesh, no wringer so efficient and wise *******
fallen water and moist air through the tips of toes and out into
the world above the wood ceiling so green and full and bourgeoning
life into the lungs of the moving types unable to stand still and breathe
and watch their god turn miracles by unspoken stories of growth and sheltering
persistence and resolve to manufacture life and color from dirt and water and air so
quietly respired
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC
the white cottage stood still
in the midst of softly and sparingly
murmuring hues of lavenders and blues.
and the green, my love, faded
little by little to white,
but it remained voiceless.
it was you—
the only soul that quivered.
you walked barefoot, holding mine,
the honeyed wails were your compass,
although the needles weren’t still.
a scream there, the point shifted;
i hope you weren’t looking.
the wind rose when you were close;
the shades quieted,
closed their eyes
in a prayer that you glimpsed
the art of their eyelashes fluttering,
as you once did mine.
did you become unaware
of the violent beats of my soul
in the grasp of your beautiful palm,
when you saw me standing
and waiting for you on the wooden porch?
nothing respired when you stood where i stood.
you ran your fingers through the wet tangles of my hair;
drips of blood slipped by the green veins of yours.
behind your back, your lost friend floated,
his hue, like wry branches, growing back
across his outstretched arms,
leaving behind pink plump lines,
as i had mine tied once upon a time on your bed.
i recognized by the way
the muscles on your back
tensed underneath my fingers
that you knew.
i lost my breath,
trying to feel yours.
“i need you on your bed
in your birthday suit
right this ******* moment,”
your whispered,
and it touched me in places
your hands weren’t
and sank into my bones.
i moaned,
your grip tightened.
you didn’t kiss me.
“yes, daddy.”
i reached the door ****
your shoulders facing me.
my dearest love,
when i heard the gunshot,
i had only one question screaming within my mind:
who did you love more?
i hope the azure in your eyes
was never weakened by your love.
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
You left me by the midnight storm
By the collection
Of burned hearts
Under woven caskets
Where banquet maps
Aligned the beauty
Within the lighting
So dim
Lying between the shadowed
Sun where walls under our lungs
Remind me of silence
I only remember the agony
The ignorance of boxed warmth
And the lust of forgiving
Like the never ending winter
And feathered snow
Shedding like the lint left beside
Fallen autumn
I sleep, quietly, soundly
Under a lit match
The tawny desire
The rivers have flooded
The walls have curved cracks
Of winded mud
Mortifying humor
I can't seem to look past
The shadowed curtains you've
Manage to imprison me under
I've learned to love
The silhouette mass
Singing along with the tunes
Of metaphors
That dance through the blood stream
You've over flowed
I remember calm
And fear of silence
I remember what I wish I could forget
Yet the scintillating muse
Has left me
Always gasping, salty
I kept hoping this was the last
Notebook, the last page
Before a new chapter unraveled
The endless horror
Of eyelids filled with
Respired tears
The skies are open
And waiting for the RSVP invitation
I've climbed to the top of the tree
We've kissed under
And fall
Just to feel your silence
Once again
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
No sound disturbs
The cloud curled steeps of sea green pines
whose clinging oceanic thoughts
are freed, released from malted slopes.
Respired slow , the sallow spirals
herd to high, still, corrugations,
Their purse; a billion brooches
For their keep.
And, then a Raven
Barks its gloat across the drab pavilions
A dauntless hermit sculls away,
on myth buoyed strokes, to beat the bounds.
Carried from the pinioned ridge
away to secret monasteries.
Climbing from embroidered
oriental looms of Beech
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 12:12 AM UTC
CRY OF THE WOMB
Behind his earlobe was my tongue tip.
The tickling made him turn my side.
He embraced me and kissed on my lip.
Gleamed the golden ‘thaali’ around my neck.
Man and wife, we were then
Love flooded like Ganga in Shiva’s curls.
Then, I didn’t know why I used to see
A stranger in my bed, in nightmares.
Woke up at night and respired in consolation.
No, it’s him; I went back to bed caressing his temple.
There were five more days for Valentine’s.
I had the world’s best gift for him.
That night, he threw me into dark.
I craved to clasp him tight.
He was like ‘Kaali’ in Her ferocity.
I was like a lamp ready to be relinquished.
The woods around heard a cry…
The cry of a new born, it wasn’t me.
The cry of my womb barren.
The cry of his baby yearning to be born.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
When she was with me,
I held her gently,
so tightly entwined.
I respired,
upon her breath,
her mother's milk,
skin soft as silk.
I feared her death,
to detect a tiny thrum,
of which to my ears,
were a silent drum.
Unleashing tears.
I held her and shuffled,
my thoughts were muddled.
She was fragile,
and I unagile.
Finally murmurs and squeaks,
proved her heartbeats.
Light as a feather,
my love forever.
I didn't want to let her go,
movements slow.
I knew the feeling,
to lose unseeing,
but i had to give in,
to the pain within.
Her beauty and softness,
became wrapped in darkness.
I had to leave her,
knowing again I'd see her.
As years go by,
I still creep in,
from time to time,
to descry the light within.
Seeing by gentle rays of moonlight,
her golden hair bright.
Though dingy compared to her eyes,
so vibrantly blue,
a mesmerizing hue,
filled with delight,
and suprise.
Simple things she likes,
love and laughter,
no sense of disaster.
Now she's five,
and so alive.
I want to wait for what her future will hold,
watching her grow as I become old.
I always want her with me,
as days pass quickly.
I share my pistachios,
and tickle her nose.
Will she remember these things,
when she grows wings,
and flies from me,
to the man of her dreams?
I can assuredly guess,
my future in sadness,
when I have to say "goodbye",
to my little princess...
my sweet Lorelei.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 2:59 AM UTC
flames are broken ,flash is needed
blood had fire some half a century ago
Oil in them has frozen, new fuel is needed;
After the industrial era , machines respired
And coldness of ‘Be practical’ headed the time
Wisdom has been fueled to engines
Emotions are rusted either yours or mine;
No eyes to cries,no hears to call,silence roars in unison
As if human instinct have gone to sleep in depressions
Dusty toil of making sum and blood from shoulder tickled
What the cure would do? An alarming shake is needed;
There came the laughter of life
For It exists neither in present,nor the past could arrive
it is lost somewhere ad-mist opening the closed eye
What throwing a stone in pond would do,ripple would die
A giant emerging storm is the need of the time;
The last we stood together for the common notion is a page buried in history
In the numbness of reasoning ,I hear a palpitating sound beneath
Asking”Is The ruined freedom is much better than slavery”
Survival of the fittest is master’s policy
And shamelessly we inherited adaptability;
In the vision of a better world ,the pigeons of our sleep have gone
Why Wait has not met its end if our heads are fully grown.
Passed is a century, the lights in eyes are dimmed
flames are broken ,flash is needed
blood had fire some half a century ago
Oil in them has frozen, new fuel is needed;
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
Its been a while since I have felt this way,
I feel like I am drowning into that humongous ocean,
My eyes being closed, and I was scared to even breath.
The moment I respired the water came running into my lungs,
I was Struggling to swim,
Though I was
Trying to inhale each puff of air,
I started to see from where I began, those wonderful days and those mesmerising nights.
These sequence of thoughts drove me back to those serene crimes
I started to give up
I let myself drown
Suffocated and I couldn't take it
Quitting was never really an option was it?
I panted like that small baby
Who was lying on his death bed.
I tried and tried to come off from where I was.
I let my eyes open for a while,
The view seemed blurry
Yet I didn't worry.
Kept on moving my arms back and forth,
Though it didn't shorten my way.
I knew I was bound to stay away,
Away from all the miseries
I started screaming amen that no one could hear but me.
I somehow reached upto the shallow marked
Like god gave me the will to do so,
I survived the biggest nightmare of all times
I drowned then I swam, something I could have never done
I wish, I would have just gasped a lil bit of air before I entered the waters.
But hey! No regrets,
Life will leave you speechless many a times,
Its your choice to get up
And knock it down
Like a glassy cup!
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 2:44 PM UTC
"For your body, I shall give
Beauty and body anew respired .
It shall shine from all your soul and heart
Take the shape that others desire.
All I ask in return,
A simple thing in all duress
You wear this body, fashioned for you
Fashioned of gore and my shadow glass."
Sep 26, 2024
Sep 26, 2024 at 10:52 AM UTC