A little ball of darkness, hidden deep inside – so many negative thoughts below the layers of doubts; Untouched by love and light, i wasn’t ready for a gift like you since you kissed me one night, my dreams feel bright and new; Scared of losing,I refuse your claim but days,weeks and months pass, you fight the sadness in my soul by bringing to me moon and stars; Away from you,but forever in thoughts an empty shell, looking sad and lost I know it is not how its supposed to be, but darling, without you, I fail to breathe.
For every moment, you have shown me love, I have had a million doubts on me, questions on my self-worth; why for do I deserve this light, but for every such night, I also remember how goodness of a heart, needs a receptive soul, even a little dark, to understand the price you and I paid for this alliance; I remember the verses I owed to gods of broken hearts, begging for a reason for my tears, to show me a way away from fears. And it led me to your fragile soul, hard from outside, the smiles hiding the loneliness of much wiser mold. Now every time fate tempts me to stray I cling and fight harder, to always stay bound to your chains of trust and hope I will love you in the darkness of soul.
Inspired by the Mini challenge at Imaginary Toads to use a line from Kerry O’Connor’s poetry [ my inspiration is italiized in the verse above ] the reason I chose this line is because the moment I read this, I knew it felt so true for me and way I feel about my love for the light in ym life – my partner in this life.
Some days I was blind
To the beauty and kindness
This world offered;
Numbed by anxiety
I shrank back to shadows
And there I silently suffered;
Until he held my hand,
Not moving till I accepted
The love, the courage
To notice the other side.
It’s not just coffee, or the stale sandwich (from previous day of course – who delivers fresh at 6:00 AM) of any random all-night cafe I miss. It is the corner one on stop that was the farthest for us both so none could ever find us, it’s that very cafe, that last table, the coffee as fresh as the rising sun when we would meet for secret dates; It is that coffee and the sandwich I wish to be having this week – memories of our love and fights, of tears and smiles as we faced the world together as one, to be forever one; but first some coffee.
For almost an year before we got married , me and my husband would meet at this non descript cafe every alternate Saturday morning. I would later go to my parent’s home for the weekend and he would spend the day playing with friends. This week we celebrate our sixth wedding anniversary in a different country and I miss all those places that have seen us grow together and grow in love.
Dreams whisper to me at impossible times; i carry a mirrror of my own my ideas seeking colors, release from my soul; It isn’t rocket science to drown the voices in head but harder it is each day to justify living to yourself; Wether stupid, naive or unreal- dreams can wait a lifetime to reveal the truth behind the scene can only be to move those peices.
the stones shaped by years of water’s caress; stories trapped like wet sand sticking to our skin. You kiss my sleepy eyes reading stories with your fingers on me and sandy beach, washed by waves following traces of our tryst that evening. Two indistinguishable objects – us and stones lost in their dreams of being one; with the sea, the sand, the sun, the birds our first memory together, our shared secret screamed to nature, who erased all signs of our footsteps and wherever that followed.
Written for Toads prompt for iterpretation of alcoholic Inks.
Of all gifts, one could ask, I never would have written beauty in my birthday wishlist – a mistake I wouldn’t make again Fall colors as far as eyes could see, curving wet roads, red leaves floating on the chilly air kissing my bare face. such bliss; so much blessed this year witnessing to postcard beauty – something my dreams were made of; Best Birthday memory.
Last weekend, I went on a little day trip to Algonquin Park to witness the fall colors. I had only seen some pictures before this online and I was not prepared for the breathtaking beauty that I found myself surrounded with. So blessed to be spending this year in a place that is so beautiful.
Today at Toads , the prompt was to take inspiration from one of the songs in the playlist for a poem. I chose Hymn for the weekend and the only reason is that the video for this song was shot in my home country and I am a little homesick this week before the birthday.
Wonder what distances mean,
for hearts that beat as one;
every smiles and tears
shared over video calls;
days split in time zones,
never missing a moment
to celebrate each special day –
birthdays, anniversaries, festivals
every single one kept on hold
waiting for me to return home;
families – strength to survive
and the reason I go back
to memories carefully wrapped
in prayers I never felt in the past –
Family is a hymn, the angels
guiding my passage to God.
Delightful in what way,
this rush of cars and feet,
the tap, the honk, the race,
madness now has a busy face;
why not gather to hug and talk
stop a while,watch sunsets,smile;
From my window, I see only roads,
endless stream of traffic to & fro;
I plot stories for some of them –
people going places to create memories
a date, celebratory lunch or movies
with loved ones; hopefully not alone.
Show me a garden with pretty flowers
kids playing games after games,
picnics – food, drinks, ice creme
kindness and love taught in shared space;
that I would say, is the delightful event
when we never fall short of helping hands.
[I am taking part in this month’s #MyFriendalexa campaign by Blogchatter ]
Check out my weekly [almost] newsletter here
Amidst a sea of faces,
I wandered alone –
politely nodding hellos,
avoiding unnecessary attention;
till she came visiting –
stretched on my bed,
she lazily looked at
the truly inconsequential ME!
knocking a few books off,
she declared her territory
(as if anyone had missed)
as she left me giggling
and responding to her welcome. MEOW i said,( little one, come again)
Reading the Poetics Tuesday prompt brought back a memory from my graduation days. In college, when I was so utterly bored in a class, instead of yawning, I said “meow”. It wasn’t too loud but neither too low that it could escape a few of my classmates around. The girls who lived in the same dorm as me of course immediately knew it was me. I realized later that “meow” had become my standard reply to anything amusing, including daydreaming of my bed in the middle of a boring lecture.
<musings of a healing soul and a warrior of words>