Category: Poetry
9 Oct 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 5:54pm
and then it begins to crumble
the wall that you had built
giving it your years of tireless labour
dreaming of it by night
laying brick by brick, by day
and when the wall was complete
you sat there crying
running your numb fingers along its finish
for, it was your dying hour
home became a mere metaphor
when the boys grew up into adults
and the wall aged
soaked in rain, it gathered moss
they will never know
how glad you will in your grave be
if they fain touch the wall
such is the life after death
but now, the wall is crumbling
because someone somewhere
pulled a brick and crushed it into sand
such is the tale of neglect
should the wall be put up again?
but what crumbles once crumbles again
and again. and again.
and again. and again.
till you forget how many again times
it has crumbled;
till it gets tired of crumbling
or dies. again.
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5 Oct 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 3:45pm
two cups of hot tea
lay on the table
as if they whispered to each other
they issued faint smoke
she picked up his
and walked to the window
that looked into a pond
through the still, cold water
moved like a knife, hamid's naked frame
bearing the traces of love
that her nails had made
she held the cup between her palms
as she would, his face
and brought it to her smiling lips
fate cannot be always kind, though
the looking-glass will break
and its racuous laughter
will cut your reflection into pieces
so there in front of her, hamid, her life
and in stealthy silence
barely fifty feet behind, her death
"there's no place safe
when men cry for war", smirked the captain
looking out from the war tank
and nodded, "do it!"
"but she is harmless", said the junior
"blow her up!" - the captain
--------
"noor!" hamid cried
but the house
that stood on the edge of the cliff
was razed
embers of the rubble hurt his feet
"noor!" he cried
but neither blood nor bone could he find
burdened with ash
he ran into the forest
to search for her footprints
and all the trinkets
that adorned her body once
and fell into the secret corners
when their fingers played
the games of love
but the snow pulled a blanket
on the leaves, fallen and green
on the barks
weary and tendermost alike
on the smallest detail of the roads
he was the only spot
which moved in that frozen landscape
every tree looked same
sullen, hiding in the drape of white
afar, the horizon dissolved
spreading the pall of gloom
he ran like a lunatic
caught in an absurd maze
only to find nothing
fine as a razor's edge
grief cut him in two
nothing was naked anymore
in that forest
save his anguish
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23 Jul 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 1:28am
he just frowned
or smiled
it was unclear
when she asked
how the winters,
ten and more,
had passed
her fingers,
still as slender,
curled into the handle
of the coffee mug.
his fingers ached
she asked again,
now smiling,
about the winters
would those lips
taste of coffee
or of the sweet longing
of all those years
he won't know
in this winter of life
what tales could he have
of those winters,
without her, lifeless
so he just frowned
or maybe he smiled
it was unclear
but then life
etches its tales
on your face
in wrinkles fine
and each wrinkle
hid a tale
that he will -
when all light fades -
whisper to her
in silence
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7 Jul 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
& El Eye Ef Ee
| 3:44pm
i hugged a tree.
on my fingers
a butterfly perched briefly
and then it flew
fly away it did,
i thought
with its tender wings
it flew, and flew more
across the seas
and thousand miles
the hour was quiet
in those woods deep
it found the tree
that she was hugging
and, it then kissed
her svelte, gentle fingers
oh, and in my heart
i felt a flutter
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30 Jun 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
& El Eye Ef Ee
| 12:46pm
crimson dusk fades slowly
as the dying murmur
of the restless waves
a gentle breeze from afar
ruffles my hair
i think it's her loving fingers
as the breeze leaves me
my heart flies off, too,
along with her
the clouds are gathering
blurring the distance
and i smell the rain
on these feeble sands
my infirm feet tiptoe
and my fingertips dance
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19 Apr 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 8:33pm
of the shade burlesque
awake in mute gray
the walls won’t talk
and she can’t hear
ripped from time
he lay still, cold
as a buried dream
unmoved by her tears
she caresses his toes
they tickle no more
a silence so haunting
fate’s cruel laughter!
“dad, where have you gone?”
she whispers, almost
but then, life is so
a vile trick of time
when she was born
his life became fuller
and in his death
her life now, lighter
“what is this, dad”?
she asked, in a moment past
pointing at the title
of a book he loved
without his saying a word
she now understands
what it means:
“the unbearable lightness of being”
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11 Feb 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 3:29pm
from the table afar
beckoned by a brief glance
she smiled at him;
a moment so joyful
it effaced all time,
all the years
and every minute
they parted for
a fate so cruel
they part every time
if they meet as lovers;
a destiny so kind
their paths cross
as if bound to,
if strangers
they pretend to be
so they vowed
in whispers quiet,
silent and unspoken,
that they shall
meet as strangers
so familiar
they need not utter a word
but yet
she was afraid
if he has brought along
the past –
a bittersweet secret
that only they
(she and he) know
but his hands were bare
bare as the agony
of a longing
that still burns,
a longing
that they never let
to their fingertips
or the unkissed lips
at midnight hour
the day before
he walked through
the stooping corridors
of time
through the burlesque
labyrinths of memory
through the crumbling
walls of dreams
and hurled
into the deepest woods
that precious secret
at dawn
as it lay frozen
in a stray nest
a squirrel stopped by
and ate it fine
the restless eagle
finished the remains
so his hands were bare
he doesn’t need carry
the weight
of the time gone by
he can now see it all
in her eyes
which, with one glance,
melt both
the dreams that were
treasured in the past
and memories
of this evening
he will take to the grave
he smiled, too
but said not a word
for, what if
it will, yet again,
invite the wrath
of the brutish fate
she stood up
and briskly walked out
before even her fragrance
could waft along
his bearded cheeks
minutes later
as the fumes
of unshared coffee
felt the two empty chairs
all one could hear
was the deep sigh
of two hearts
that belong
Permalink
11 Feb 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 3:26pm
imagination
makes love
to memory
and a thought is born
consensual and timeless
always
is their act
when they have an orgasm
the baby becomes an idea
that surmounts
sibling rivalry
and stands the test of time
when climax is feeble
the baby, blind,
becomes an ideal
that drags his brothers all
into killing fields
the two inseparable
lovers never marry
therefore
the children are born
out of wedlock
a few you abandon
some you abort
and some you rear
and those you rear –
they, in turn,
rear you!
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19 Jan 2016
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
& Design / Typography
| 3:19pm
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10 Jun 2015
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 9:13pm
అటు వైపులా
ఇటు వైపులా
ఎటు వైపులా
పలు వైపులా
నలు వైపులా
అన్ని వైపులా
కారుమబ్బులు కమ్మి
పగలో రాత్రో
నిజమో స్వప్నమో
మరణమో జననమో
తెలియని నిశ్శబ్దం
ఊబిలా మారితే
కప్పిన తెల్లటి వస్త్రం
మెల్లెగా లేపి
చివరి సారిగా
నీ ముఖం చూసి
నవ్వు మరిచిన నీ చెంపలు
చల్లగా తాకితే
రాలింది ఒక్కసారిగా
జీవితం
కన్నీటి చుక్కై!
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8 Jun 2015
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 11:56pm
a man
is made
to stand up
a woman,
to
stand up, too
after him
beside him.
there’s no rain
without
the clouds
it’s a sly mind
that asks
who comes first
they are ‘gether
a dream, a sleep.
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21 May 2015
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 7:09pm
walking its streets at midnight
air dense with the odour of sweat
that of toil in stifling heat
blinded by the shimmering skyline
barely do i hear, even if i strain,
the waves of the sea afar
there's that girl, pretty in whites,
fucked many a time and loved never
haggling for her price for the night
there's that man, standing in dark
alone and looking into darkness
his cigarette spark, the only light
that baby, all of three years,
far from the arms of its mother
sleeping on the bed of dust
those midriffs that crave for touch
and those that quiver in cold
hiding alike the tales of regret
a city is many cities within
how many can i walk this night
with two feet, loath and languid
i pretend i don't see
the filth, strife and grief
the inescapable loneliness
as i pretend, the city does, too
that my words do not matter
and prepares for another dawn
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8 Mar 2015
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
& Design / Typography
| 10:53am
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6 Mar 2015
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 11:54pm
let us meet
again
in this very shade
for a moment brief
the tree has aged
by decades two;
life has tiptoed
in measures, too
and just as we did
twenty summers before
let us part
without a word
Permalink
3 Mar 2015
Posted by Oblivion in
Poetry
| 12:52am
i like looming gloom,
i like darkness
blinding and pervading
for it persists
light is but a flicker
that deceives; it will vanish
with the waft, gentle
of a lost breeze
and when the last glimmer
dissolves your shadow
the darkness returns
with steps you can’t hear
is that why, then,
man, in spite of himself,
is lured by darkness
to sow his dreams
what will you find
swimming in sea waters
dive into the depths
to find its treasures
which bird in the woods
will sing for you
unless you drag your feet
into the quiet deep
whispers of her heart
those eyes will not speak
you must, o lover,
lose yourself in her glance
what are stories worth
if they don’t voice
the dark grief
of the homeless, the forlorn
the farthest of stars
whose twinkle you admire
what will it be, if not
for the envelope of dark
tender dreams, where will
they find their wings
if the baby slips not
into the bliss of sleep
o, the light, the very light
the light of lights
finds its shimmer and song
only at the dead of night
i like looming gloom,
i like darkness
blinding and pervading
for it consumes and treasures!
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