Wild Blue Yonder

Paper boats squinted...
At blindfolded smiles..
Carved on a womb..
A prologue undone..
By the churning overtures..
Of Innocence..

Crossing at a Wait..
For a brass trunk..
Caked up in luster..
Feeble..
That li'l Matryoshka doll..
Asleep..
While the spring walks her past..

Glimpse
Of a Crinkled nose..
Nudged the abyss..
Sliding by..
That dimpled sledge..
Of painted aloofness..
Over Crystal snow..

Never ending..

Through the alluring haven..
Of whimsical clouds..
She swam across the oceans...
And glided thru' the skies...
To reach that home...
Enchanted by smiles...
Embraced by a heart,
Ever more...
Ever after...
And now, the dimples soar in laughter...
and the lashes dance with joy...

And a tender heart..
Is charmed all her way...
to an everlasting..
Blue moon..

P.S.~ This was written for Poorva...long... long..ago.. :)

Hues..

The luscious purple swam,
Gushing past a rhythm,
Of stealth which seeped,
Thru' the strawberry octave..
Casting away a gaping black,
In the brisk flow of brevity..

Ah, a rusted amaryllis
Petal hidden along pages..
In unkempt frivolity,
Fetching wandering hordes..
Of dog-eared misgivings..
In idyllic clamor..

Gaze...a gaze..
At fluid transparencies..
Over the clinking hazel lull..
Transported..
To the errant tread...
Of conflicting synapse..
In a swirl of affection..
Molded..
With a Quivered glance..

Lost horizon..

Sight of streaks in multitudes..
Written on a mellowed twister..
In the gleaming sand grains..
Stirred under the lightning..
Crushed soft greens stemming..
From the seething folds..
Of clouded moss and filth..
Agape in desolate starkness..
Nudging jutted shards..
Of profanity..

5/12/09

How strange it seems sometimes...
How very strange!

It's going to be his 92'nd birthday...in the next 24 hrs....and the past 24 years are pulling me under....beneath...underneath a pyramid of stars... into a chamber...thru' a tiny tunnel...a deep one...where the reverberations of a childhood sinks down..kneeling to the earth where he once stood..

He is so near ...then, why do they tell me, that I won't see him smiling with the brewing wake of the morn' ?
....and....I remember someone else's words too, today... of how he was giving a calculus exam when he heard of such news himself...and couldn't attend the last rites....and...I feel a crumble inside me....
There's a piece here....and one there...oh, one in that corner tooo...
 
Again words come back to me.... so many, so few all at once... "Aah, all I can do now, is fight...with nature...my surroundings, even the air maybe..." : he would have said...

An Iron Masked day grumbles in sleep...as I lay sleepless those wee hours of dawn...
Recollection retreats ....escaping into the arms of abstruse dominion...
A blanket of his arms tucks me in.... Yes, he's there... He's still there...right here....
Disappearance? 
Along with the melody?
His hum surrounds today, releasing me from this mantle of weariness...
Fatigue takes the form of incoherence....yet....it couldn't look more crystalline...
The clarity will stay with me....nostalgia will too...
His gaze in my eyes began the memories inside...and with each day, each li'l bundle of moments will encompass my whole world...my very own.. 


P.S. ~ Sudden flashes of Endymion's Dadu...that picture of Tua and him....
Strange! Just so strange!

The word ''strange'' is synonymous with me, today..

Sehnsucht..

Blades of grass,
Over the playful smoke;
Monotonous;
Ebbing a faraway shrill,
Winter-borne..

The endless blue above him..
Interrupting the barren white..
Sky;
Oh, an Empty sky..
Arched over,
The picture of a man..

Dismantled azure,
Moored by the river green..
and dust..
A tranquil gray..
She rode her little boat..
Listless crooning of moondrops..
Parting her Iris..
Swarming;
Ripples of remembrance..
In Snatches of his lyric.

In the End...

Haven't written past few months... refrained.. restrained... Guess it happens when one feels overwhelmed... esoteric..maybe…
Can't complain either... It was my decision… One always has a choice ..ahh, they do..

Ummmm…. Retrospection..? Oh, that strange diversion into a path of deflection.. which seems like a whirl of tiniest of mazes…..where nostalgia takes the form of deletions and absence…leading to a finale of "cantata de vie"…in its puppet dance…as the unfeeling ‘us’ waltz to it’s beats…callow…unprepared..

Hearing my voice feels strange now, remembering an odd room filled with laughter where I taught Monday last… or the choking words which still haven’t left my heart after I heard of stale death, which I would feel for the rest of my life…
A smile insulting my sullen lips remains…sobs don’t come anymore…sniffles desert..
Ironic!
They’d left me long ago…and suddenly as I type these words…that sketch..seeps in..

It was mine…in the eyes which taught me to see the world....
and..
..my abstract remains bleak and gives way..…
Because;
This time...The unconsoled stark chasm will stay.. in remembrance and my soul..forever..

TO MY GRANDFATHER....