Twelve black moons in your eyes
I wait for them to rise.
Twelve kisses unaccounted,
to sequin your moon-face.
Twelve dreams, nascent
tucked away in twelve corners.
Twelve more lives to be lived,
in twelve planets yet to arrive.
Twelve galaxies to saunter through,
twelve bodies to adorn.
Twelve magicians barefeet
twelve tricks sublime.
Twelve long years to salvation.
He lights up a cigarette
and offers a generous smile,
A new glint in his very dark eyes,
a new sliver of the moon rises today
not meant for my dark skies.
He doesn’t hold my hands,
but offers a generous mug of coffee
and a very small portion of love,
some advice and small, incomplete departures.
He doesn’t offer me his birds today
nor their colored feathers.
But he offers small, incomplete departures
He doesn’t offer me his songs
But offers telegraphic emails.
What remains is,
notes exchanged in poetry,
life shared in musical notes
and small, incomplete departures.
Artwork by IsyLLiS
Licensed under Creative Commons
On a bright orange blossom
perched the blackest Drongo
watching the sun disappear.
Through the foliage,
I watch her sway
delicately on a ripening pod.
Artwork by IsyLLiS
I run my fingers
through a clutter of thoughts.
Taste potions of my pain
own it, and breathe a new-found freedom.
We spoke in languages
we did not understand.
Must I write of lost love, and departed lovers
their memories and lingering love
that has floated away
on a lonesome cloud?
Or turn in another direction,
where the Sun is beginning to rise
and the skies are full of faithful promises.
Love, warmth, peace and a happy new year to you all.
She placed the blazing Sun in the middle of her forehead
and the Moon in the pearl of her earrings.
She swathed her body in the rising red desert
and adorned her hair with the flower of Hibiscus.
The days were long
but there were fortresses she needed to build.
The oceans were calm
but she had to harness to safety, those in rocking boats.
In her heart lotuses bloomed, and stars in her womb
and she birthed a new safe world
for those hurt, wounded and seeking love.
(artwork by IsyLLiS)
I am working on a film assignment for a prestigious, world famous institution. It is important to mention here that I am not an employee of this organization, thankfully so, and that I work independently because I like ‘freeness’, and I love ‘freedom’.
This evening, apparently I made a mistake of including one harmless – no, actually two – smileys 🙂 🙂 in my email communication to the ‘boss’. And ten minutes later I get a call from a friend and a co-worker explaining to me that it wasn’t quite appropriate! And we talked about it for ten minutes and I said to my friend that perhaps there is a need for creating that space in communication, at least for positive expressions like a harmless smiley. I guess I wasn’t being heard. Now this is the same person who while sharing my resume with the ‘boss’ deleted the ‘poetry’ bit from my profile without asking me. It was nice of him though to inform me later on.
Now, I was a bit upset about somebody’s irrational demand in the organization and I am an emotional person and I like to express it subtly, without offending anybody – I would never do that, I am so sensitive to that – even in work situations. I am not ashamed of expressing my emotion or fear being an emotional, sensitive self. I like being honest to myself more than to anybody else. Now, I got this call suggesting that it wasn’t exactly appropriate and that up until now my e – mail communication was good and “dry”, but this wasn’t acceptable. So, being a peaceful person, I sent my next email which was completely dry – dry like the dry, chapped lips when one travels to the leeward side of the highest altitude cold desert in the world. Now I have been there so I know what it feels like. A weather so dry, we had to put nose-drops every hour to even breathe comfortably.
Well, you know what, I am quite sure I would use smileys even if I were to write to the Obamas and the Putins, the Merkels and the Kin Jong Ils, Kim Il Sungs of the world. 🙂 🙂 Smileys for everybody. And a big 🙂 for those who don’t like them in their “official”email communication.
A bird flew out of timelessness,
perched on a twig.
The twig broke,
the bird flew away.
We laughed at what just happened
the forest laughed with us.
A long train journey
through dull cityscapes,
and dry deserts of humanity.
There wasn’t much outside to see,
but within there were landscapes
waiting to be trekked on.
There were mind-scapes
waiting for their contours to be drawn.
So I pulled the shutters down
and set out on a journey within.
As my body moved along the railway tracks,
my pen did on the smooth landscape
of an ivory cartridge paper, 150 GSM.
It all started with a dot,
that became a line,
that soon turned into a swirl,
that transformed into patterns
colliding, mingling, merging,
running across, parallel, converging.
The art-scape became my world
my pen my own private jet
and we explored our private world
until we met the Mother of all Mountains –
from behind her face peaceful
a yellow sun rose.