Resonance

I am supposed to weave a repose in words

String phrases spelled in the vocab of emotion

 Pick them sentences like cherries from an orchid

Toss them in a salad of expression.

I am supposed to thrive in articulation 

Scream out loud through this keyboard  

Punching letters and forging meaning

Relating myself within and beyond

I am supposed to have a way with eloquence 

Feelings should don the colors of the literal

Extracting the abstract, diffusing the quiet

Bare it all kinda way, stripping my soul on display 

Then I feel this urge to be still

Letting those ripples of verbal waves

Subside into the abyss of the ocean 

Dwelling in silence, muting the noise.

I am supposed to speak 

But somehow on this path of a worldly scramble

They sound like bickering 

And thus, I shut up, and thus I sum up

This sojourn in lines

While the echoing insides urge me

To just be..without the blabber

 

luvVerse

These structures 

Like the abstract 

Lugging me along into a void

Trust me it isn’t as dark as it sounds 

Nor is it empty and dull

What if I said it is Full

To the brim?

There was a time when chronic intellect 

Was the aim of the day..

Now al I seem to care is to care not!

These structures, the constructs, the constraints 

Looking like connections

But being decoys

Somehow, now - they stand decoded!

And I was supposed to scribble in silence

Dabble in space…

But here I go…

LuvVersing..

Ceasing to fast forward or reverse! 

Shower

 

reVerse

 

Sometimes 

I wish I wasn’t this inclined to write

Or express elaborately in wordage!

Sometimes 

I wish I didn’t need screens and keyboards 

They seem more like barricades than bridges 

Sometimes 

I wish I just thought about you

And you knew..

And wish we had a silent conversation 

Abstract, nothing close to being real

But more like Magic

More like Being!

Sometimes I wish I said nothing 

But you get me like I hid nothing!

And we merged in the vacuum

Shunning all conventions

Leaving communication to muggles.

Photo by Tatiana Syrikova from Pexels

Exotic

Once I dreamt of petting 

An albino alligator- or may be two.

I hoped to foster them, or may be adopt!

“They are obnoxious”

“A Faux paus”-

I was offered opinions!

Opinions are like Onions

Said no one. I thought this up on the fly..

They smell, they are pungent and they make us cry.

So any which way- I listen and let be..I don’t cut them open

To have to dab my eyes..

So the alligators in question made a beeline to my door

And then to my feet..casing them, paired with a linen A-line 

Summery, breezy dress.

Then I strode, on the sidewalk like it were a Chanel ramp..

A few questioning gazes grazed my paws, cased by the albino alligators.

It would have been a sight, a sighting.

A woman and a half sporting them could be funny, could be exciting.

By the way, when the opinions are our own and we keep them to ourselves 

They bloom like roses, adorn our beings like jewels..

Much like these albino alligators-

Squishy like the freshly licked sand on the beach..

Crisp white like the clouds grazing on the sky

Oh and these beasts boast a gentle tread

No animals were harmed or shred!

Life is too short, to be even little 

So

Bring them on, the albino alligators.

They’ll walk with you like trusted BFFs.

 

 

adVerse

 

There’s a world between you and me

Stair cases, errands, rat races, daily grinds

A word between you and me

It could have been ‘Us’ - But it lingers in the confined independence of you and me

Like a lion in a sanctuary?

There’s a tether between you and me

Interdependence..it could have been a bond

It could have been beyond…

But it hovers around the promise, like it defines it premise.

There’s a sentence between you and me..

Not a quote, nor a charm - not even a worded punctuated form.

Life sentence perhaps? Like a term that needs to be served.

I try to rise beyond this in between..

But you my mind - cannot be minded. 

So I gauge the depth between you and me..

The one that nothing can fill.

Or ‘No Thing’ can fill.

It’s silly how there’s nothing between you and me

So should’d we merge into one?

Ah there..now there’s a myth between you and me..

A real one - this myth. That’s the irony!

 Photo by Wendelin Jacober from Pexels

reVerse

 Another day melts into the dusk

On an unknown countdown

I look through the curtains of my cozy bedroom 

Through the layers of the goose down comforter 

That I am Tucked under

The room lights up in tender warmth from the lamp on the night stand

The body slipping into the lap of comfort 

But there’s this soul that fidgets

Unable to settle in this scenario 

It peeks into the dark

A dark that only souls can penetrate wearing the correcting lenses of intuition.

The life yearns and how -

Beyond the warmth of this worldly setting,

Beyond 1000 count sheets and satin pajamas

It craves, this silly soul , to venture into the openness 

Over the earth, under the sky

Wrapped in the unevenness of the grass pricking my back

The chill of the summer breeze grazing my body

Numberless stars gently spreading their glimmer

That catches the moisture of skin

Making it shimmer like silk.

It craves perhaps for something that transcends the shallows of the world

Something that speaks to me in fluent caring 

Making me say I am in Love

Like it is a place to be, a pretty peaceful place

Making me swoon in that place- feeling a Bliss that my cozy bedroom eludes.

Verse

 

Do you ever try,

To capture the deeps

The rhythms of the heart, the rhymes of the soul

Armed with the paraphernalia.,.donning the explorer hat.

I have a feeling that this’ll be a treasure hunt.

A camera dangles from the neck, eagerly waiting to arrest that moment

When what you mean seems to present itself a visual

You are a page in this spirit book, wait may be a chapter..

Or perhaps you are the whole entire book case with a sliding ladder..

Tucked into you, my many emotions, in illustrations, 

You seem to expand into the neighborhood, the hometown 

The country, the continent…

Then I see you as a globe, spinning on the axis of my love

Spreading into a luminous light…white! Iridescent..

I sit and jot down an entire word pile

Rested on one single sentiment- the expression of the unspoken 

But the smile I let out when you top it and topple it..

This massive word heap, with your silence, your presence, your essence 

I sprinkle these lines at you, like confetti

Conceding defeat at your feet!

reVerse

 Fabrics can be friends

The ones sewn into flattering forms

Wrapping my flesh in a cuddle, puddles of frills warming my skin

That Tee for example - I swear what I say is true

Conforms to my heart dousing those flutters and jitters in a secure swaddle 

Almost making me feel like a newborn receiving skin to skin from the mother.

The color it bled takes an ombré effect, adding to its coze

Much like a parent’s warm smile.

The weft and warp softened to accommodate my rough edges

Sanding them.

I feel polished  like a pebble in the way of a stream, in the garb of that Tee - like a bestie’s assuring smile, accompanied by a tight hug.

Sometimes the seams of that fabric blur and I see your skin

Where the Tee had been.

And you swaddle, cuddle and secure me in that embrace.

You could be my old, comfy tee - my old comfy tee could be you.

What amalgam of being loved!

Ooem

 

Then I write, when I write

I feel a lack of words like a lack of breath!

Panting, I ponder 

I call a Verse, 'Reverse'.

I call a Poem an Ooem - Lisping my way through names.

When I watch through the looking glass

Of this perspective window

I capture things so minute, miniscule, invisible

That spotting them morphs me into thin air

And I become a ghost of the Ooem - I mean the Poem.

"The Visible is a hoax" - wisdom from the Ghost I had become

Whispers in my ears.

"It is" I tend to agree. 

And bend to see the hoaxes through the perceptive.

I touch the non palpable

It feels like a simulation

Like an emotional masturbation.

There's a fulfillment that flows in my being

Beyond the blood and flesh

And I drown in that bliss.

I experience that which cannot be

Captured by the eye, the taste, the sniff, the ear, the epidermis

Oh that's because I become a Ghost.

I do not know if it is the damned one or Holier than thou.

I don't seem to care to sort it into this or that.

I emote, in the abstract

Vacuum flowing through the keypad.

Next time around I might call it a Syric instead of a Lyric.

Does it matter what I call it?

Or even how I shape it?

It is a void for Heaven's sake - or for the sake of Timbuktu.

It cannot confirm to the container

Or a spelling rule.

It is there but it isn't.

So what's in a name.

An Ooem it is, not a Poem. Spilling through the abyss.

subVerse

 This thing about this thing

Called life and living

How strange its ways

Do we know the count 

Of the left over days?

Blurred in the daily grind

Obscured in the mind rewind

Living a day back or a year ahead

In this trope of a silly head!

This thing about this thing

Called being in the moment

What simple instruct

Lost in the brain construct.

The next stop, the last - who knows?

Perhaps curtain down on the Shows

Of Illusions, delusions

Of elaborate plans ahead of present.

This thing about this thing

Called in between two points

One life, one death

Several plots and joints

What plain little truth

Wrapped in a silly little scam

That our time is unlimited

Waiting to live sometime else

This thing won't wait!

So

Don't let it slip in the mind maze.

Be. Just Be!