Sunday, 29 August 2010

Goodbye

And then he turns to her…
“Save me”, he says.

[Is thunder enough to shake her?
Or does she need the rain?
She told him it’s all over,
Then why did he turn again??]

She looks at him,
And asks herself
“Why?”

[Friends don’t kill each other
Then why did she let him die?]

Tears stream down
Crying for him
Crying for her
Is there anyone to blame?

Sorrow erases sorrow
And pain soothes pain
He holds her hand in his
She firmly pulls it away.

“It’s over”, she repeats,
Loud and clear.

Can relief be enough reason??
Can love sway?

[Yes, she did love him deeply
But it faded away.]

He looks at her
And weeps

And with each drop
Her soul: hardening

This is the last goodbye.

Her joy
His grief

[What grows together…
Doesn’t always die in oneness…
It’s a sad picture
Sorrow begging, misery]

She turns
He turns

Knowing so well
They may never meet
But in their hearts
She knows
He feels
There is never a goodbye.

Every tear they cry,
Will heal.

My Father Wrote Me Poems


In my mothers womb

I heard a voice talk
Unlike other infants
And to my mothers wrath,
It was my father sharing
Many of his thoughts.


One day about a prince
The other day about some frogs
But the best was only one
The one told everyday
About dolls and frocks.


As I grew from womb to school
He taught me how to dance
How to spell my name
How to walk
Everything…. [Memory fades away]


Then one night as I slept
I heard him softly walk away
I pretended to be asleep
And he preferred it that way
I guess he was scared
Scared, I would blame.


I never stopped him
And he never stayed
We slowly grew apart
And things began to change
I learned to live without him
To dance my own way
I even learned to write
Though our style's grew astray


Then one day
15 years from the last in womb
I sent him a poem
I wanted to know what he thought
If he thought I could rhyme


A year passed
And no reply
I gave up
But continued to write.


4th of June: Today


I opened up my mail
Scanning through birthday cards,
I saw his name
I wondered what it was about
Wishing it was “happy birthday”.


He had written a single word
The one I’ll never forget
Fairies dwarfs and little frocks
Can never correct that day


“Goodbye”, he wrote
Everything else left unsaid


My father always wrote me poems.
This was the last one he sent.

Last Words

Furious thoughts
unevenly spread
Scribble, scribble
quibble, quibble


Addicted
Dipped in ink
Inspiration flowing
Attended, passed.


One idea,
Then another instead.

Using, abusing
Ranting ahead
Jotting, blotting
Said, still unsaid


Cross out
Write again
Frustrated, determined
Driven, insane

Crush the paper
Throw away the pen


Words knifed across the arm
Hate inscribed
and left to interpret


Deed done

Life lost
A final word
and at it, left

Clouds


Suddenly they separate
Falling like tears from a dream
Drop by drop
Touching me
Wiping away ink from paper
breaking and shaking
word by word
reaching out
leaving me dishevelled
With only memories
tear by tear
washing me

Smile in Stone




Frosted emotions 
Kept unseen
Latched in boxes
Sewn in seams

Voiceless feelings
Hidden inside
Knotted and crushed
Put out of sight

Bustling anger
Jostling tears
Curtains drawn
Concealed fears

Silenced guilt
Empty screams
Tearless hurt
Broken dreams

Almost said
Then left alone
Too scared to cry?
So smile in stone.

Hear My Heart

Stifling within
I want you to know
It’s tearing me apart
Beginning to show

Hear the words
I do not say
Feel the things
I can’t portray


Chorus
Grant me loved wings
Let me soar
Hear my heart
Give it a cure


See the tears
I cried so long
Silence covers
All my sound


And I look at you
So calm, sincere
Your eyes speak
Why won’t you care?


Chorus


Hold me close
Hear me say
Love me now
Don’t go away


It kills me so
Can’t keep this inside
I love you
Don’t want it to hide


Chorus*2 (fade)

Burned Memories

A brown tattered album
Frayed by hands of the past
Yellowed termite eaten pages
Memories burned and aghast

Old frayed thoughts
Touching faces captured in pose
Looking and feeling
An era of long ago

A smile etched on paper
A tear cried and captured
Wine, salt and emotions
Left to enrapture

Last threads that tie
Today with yesterday
Pictures in history
Imprinted again in memory

Dreamer

Walking alone
Solitude or loneliness?
A slow merging reality
Questioning destiny
Heart or mind?
Me or mine?
No record left
No way back
Weighted passions
Stabbing and belittleing
Dreamer from somewhere
Merchandising reality
Giving up everything
In search for an illusion

You, I and the miles in-between

Two separate nations,
divided by land and sea.
Living in different time-zones,
far away: you, and me.

Yet, love cuts through distance,
feelings travel over miles
hearts beat together
sending love, across time.

Relying on instinctive trust
Moving with unsure-surety.
Born worlds apart,
hoping, someday, to meet.

Growing closer:
unshaken, forsaken: reality,
there, for a moment,
we forget.

And almost touch
caught in bliss, in mockery.
And then again, we remember:
you, I and the miles in-between.

Love Memoir

Rock-cut intricately
woven in a gold chain
A diamond heart
lost and estranged

Another:
A scented letter
agelessly written
worded in loving pain

Picture of togetherness
those sad-happy days
of deceitful romance
casting loves embrace

Once again
I stumble on memories
diamonds and letters
lovers, loved and gone
cared, hurt and withdrawn,
leaving treasures to remind.

A teardrop and it’s over
cutting across ages

sifting through time
smile for those thoughts
for pain, sublime.

Ludicrous Painting

Fragile, beautiful, complete
venomous beauty

she looks like him
she frowns like him.
Even that smile
striking grace.

Tightly held,

treasured for sure.
Bundled in assurance
cuddled in security
in hands that walked me,
giving her

borrowed love

I look at the man she’s with
A loving glance,
Not returned.
His eyes are mine,

yet the love is hers.

There must be a reason
for her to take my place
ruin the memory

Scar the face
He still loves me.

Ludicrous painting
My father
fathering her.

Small Mercy

A quiet peaceful woman
Rosary clutched tightly
Clad in white
Thick rimmed glasses
Toothless smile


Young minds cross her
Everyday
No one stops
Shouting, questioning,
They walk away.
Small mercy: she’s deaf


She sits by the window
Looking outside
Seeing a world
That’s left her behind


She gets up happy
To be beaten and unfed
Left in the hands of selfish regret
Small mercy: she forgets.


She stares at today
But faces yesterday
Her face is hopeful
Her emotions: inept


She looks at her world
Fragrances of flowers
Beauty and smiles.
Small mercy: she’s immobile.


An enchanting woman
In a disheveled body:
Broken legs
Deaf ears
Chained in Alzheimer’s.
Small mercy: her heart is fed
Her soul is complete
Her dreams are covered
Her thoughts in-shield

Unsaid

It was unsaid
He was gone


[Last night he was here
And things seemed alright
But happiness doesn’t last
It vanished with the night]


She cried
They cried
not together
Each to his own


[He was the man of the house
And now they felt unprotected,
Forlorn]


She was crossing by their room
And heard a muffled cry
It broke her heart
But she only sighed


[Personal pain
Weighs far more]


Walked past the door
Walked past her child
Guilt glistened in her eyes
Nothing more to say


[Thought: he was selfish
Leaving them alone]


It breaks her heart
He just comes and goes

Just when they move on
The past knocks at their door


[it a sad painting
together yet lonesome]


Last night
He came on impulse
Took them to dinner
Leaving her at home


[She brings them up
He takes them away
The pain is hers
The pleasure all his]


She glances at her driveway
Sees him walking away
And he looks back
His tear stricken face


[Both with tears
Weeping all alone]


And it hits her
He’s gone
Once again
Leaving her alone
Alone with her pain


[The kids to feed
The household to run]


They said that one single word
“Divorced”
Since then she’s the same
Teaching them
Feeding them
Cleaning and working


It was
And is unsaid
He comes and goes
And in the end
They are all alone
Alone with their pain.

Together, Alone

Eyes that look
not at,
but through


Ears that hear
their own
silent voices


Words that speak
and caress
only the speaker


Minds that dream
shallow thoughts
of selfish destruction

Lonely crowd
each to his own
living his death

You

I wrote a promise
and sealed it with dew
perfumed it with love
and blew it to you


I captured a dream
treasured in memory
I sent you the thought,
and set it free


I whispered a prayer
And silently craved
for serenity and peace
then gave you my fate


I carved a sculpture
hands steady and true
molding till perfection
then saw it grow into you.

I painted my masterpiece
of a late night beach
You were there
Just a little out of reach.



I kept looking for gifts
and searching for things to do
but there is no price to give
that can bring me you.

I closed my eyes
dissapointment and tears
I felt a touch and saw,
YOU, wiping my fears.

Don't Turn

Shut the window
what you see is not today.
Those dreams, those sounds,
belong to yesterdays.
Draw the curtain,
conceal your fear,
obstruct your thoughts,
pretend not to hear.
That kiss, that smell
that cushioned embrace,
block those eyes
constrict the space.
Kill your senses,
dont let them feel.
Murder the desire,
let wounds heal.
Ease your past,
soothe your grief,
sense the closure,
bow and leave.

Unquenchable Remembrance

Wet lips quivered and said,
“I’ll forget, you’ll forget.”
Words left to resound
in their heads.

She turns
He turns
Knowing so well,
they may never meet.
A last glimpse
their love, past tense.

_________________________________


That was months ago.
Today again, she sits and writes,
but instead of words
memories creep inside.

The smile that was his
the magic in the kiss
the power of his hold
the songs that were told
the endless surprise
the language in his eyes

This time her poem is complete,
words unsaid,
on a tear-lined sheet.

She whispers,
hoping for him to hear,
“I said I would forget
but here I stand,
drowned in memory.
I said you would forget
but here I stand
askance, do you remember?”

Friday Mournings

I tip-toe down the stairs,
trying hard to remain silent.
Like every Friday,
the house is enveloped
in a wisp of chocolate air.


I slide into the kitchen,
she's standing near the sink.
Hair smudged in flour,
hands covered in sugar,
busily mixing ingredients.


I kiss her cheek
without expectations.
I tell her I am leaving,
pick up my bag,
and hurriedly say goodbye.


I sit in my bus
and close my eyes.
I recollect Fridays gone by
and each has only
one thing in common, Chocolate.

It's been twenty years now
since her first chocolate.
She was baking for him,
with very little time,
she cooked in her red chiffon dress.

Even today she sits by the window
chocolate by her side
waiting for a man, long gone.
and like her first mourning
the chocolate is thrown away, uneaten.

Unsure, Sure

Inches away
her misty dream
she's walking against
every wind that beats
moving towards
that silver sheen.

Half way through
tired aspirations spent
unsurity, clogging her head
she begins to surrender.

Yet with denial comes hope
another reason to move ahead.
slowly she closes her eyes
to all that's left behind.

and nervously she clutches
his hand and takes a step
into darkened regret.
And another, but this time
she's surer.

With every dark night
her moon appears brighter.
With every unsurity
her determination grows stronger.

The Price

Tiny feet
in shoes too big,
trying to hide
from yesterdays of guilt.

Frantic pace
in a whirlwind of treason
largish steps
afraid of the reason.

Clitter, clatter,
spring, winter, autumn,
there's no end
to dreams unforgotten.

8, suddenly 19
tomorrow is yesterday
smack!
her creation, her destruction.

A pitiful picture,
feet too big,
sticking out of
shoes too small.

For Old Times Sake

Brew me a cup,
for old times sake.

Sit with me and hear
about my yesterday.

Laugh as I recall all my
lovers and men.

Weep for every broken heart
and each forgotten friend.

Cheer for dreams held onto
and every happy end.

Regret each lost chance and
every failed attempt.

Be my childhood friend or be
the one from school.

Be the father that never was or the mother
who left too soon.

Be the religion, or be the hope
that carried me through.

When I reach the end wipe my tears
and yours too.

Then slowly drink your cup and leave
mine on my grave.

Tomorrow again brew me your special,
for old times sake.

A Beggar's Lie

I see her carry the baby
across her chest.
He clings to her
with hands, abnormally small.

Half dressed,
smeared in her selfishness,
I see him shiver.
His greedy, selfless eyes,
his ribbed chest,
his mud-clogged hair.

A bloody bandage,
Covered with ants, wrapped,
protecting his head.
She begs at my window
with an empty bottle.

I almost give in,
then turn to my magazine instead.

I

I am the colors in your palette
spread within your boundaries
fading when the picture is seen

I am the notes in your music
held together by guitar strings
vanishing each time you sing

I am the images in your words
held together in your metaphors
complicated as you compose

I am the thoughts in your diary
crafted within each belief
stored away in shafts

I am the poetry you write
woven silently on bathroom walls
washed away after every bath

I am me, dimming as I grow
I am me, complicated and alone
I am me, left exposed.

Flux

We are always in and out,
one day here -
tomorrow there.

I am always left wanting;
sometimes a little,
most times a lot.

We are always playing those games,
pretending we care;
being people we're not.

You are always giving me hope -
loving me hard,
hating me soft.

We are always in transition,
changing our faces,
trading our cards -

I am always just the same girl,
with mellow eyes,
and a broken heart.

He, who was mine

I see her see you
I see you see her

Then I close my eyes
and deafen my ears

I look at random music
and kill the feeling inside

I slowly stub the passion
the want to pull you aside

Then I see you touch her
and caress her with your eyes

I see her want you
I see you want her

Again I look the other way
pretending not to care

I hate you for loving her
yet love you every time

Yet He Smiles

Disheveled, dirty
unkempt, unclean.
A smirk that covers
everything seen

Notorious sad movements
hiding innocent dreams
Cut, bruised hands
behind pocket seams.

Eight, nine maybe,
experiences deceive
and observing minds perceive
-Eighteen.

A child actor
On an old broken stage
With shimmering ways
and eyes that assuage

He understands
yet pretends to remain
just a little child smiling
while the innocence stays.

Compensation

Where’s the remedy
Where’s the cure
Where’s the answer
Who made you so unsure

Where’s the conviction
Where’s the reason
Where’s the honesty
Who brought in this treason

Where is safe
Where is home
Where is protection
Who left you this alone

Where’s the hope
Where’s the light
Where’s the trust
Who will make it alright

Who am I
Who are you
Where are we
Who will know?

Then Again

You are my secret,
dark, twisted and leashed.
You are my horror
kept inside, unseen.

I shooed my thoughts,
burnt the malady.
I deafened my senses
blinded my dreams.

Then

The radio-silence
The tortured screams
The clandestine pain
The aghast belief.

Erased?
Maybe, will never be.

Rebel

I am an idea
sown in unrest
I am an ambition
surreptitiously kept
I am a movement
unheard, unfelt
I am a rebellion
precariously held
I am a question
loud and blunt
I am a silence
forced and abrupt.