GIFT OF TIME

Dear Project

I've given you my precious time

Time that was my own secret garden

Where my thoughts flourished

Random thoughts like the runners that run helter-skelter

blooming at will

Beautiful thoughts that bloomed like the rose and took centerstage

Some thoughts of others, their lives, their ways

Like chrysanthemums multi-colored and bright

Some just pale and fading away

I lay on the grass sometimes

And looked up at the beautiful blue sky

Watching as seasons turned

Clouds white, grey -

Sometimes just blue...and cloudless

I relished the rain the bore down on me with a smile

pressed to the ground, close to Mother Earth

Still among my own flowers

In my own garden.

But Dear Project, now, I have lent you my time

Treat it well, take care of it; make good use of it;

Maybe you too know

how to make a garden flourish?

 

 

SELF-DEFEAT

Here is the fence you must cross

Clear it or go for a toss

On the other side is joyous victory

Clear it and forever be free

But wait a minute you say?

You must check the time

See if it's a dollar or a dime

Read the newspaper

All the tid-bits savour

Chat with your grandmother

Enjoy a smoke with your brother

Eat a slow and joyous meal...

Hey! What's your deal??

Why not jump the fence

What have you to say in your defence

Well...

Here is the fence I must cross

Clear it or go for a toss

On the other side is joyous victory

Clear it and I'll forever be free

Oh dear! Now, don't you see?

I'm scared of Victory! 

 

FINAL FAREWELL

As you fade away into eternity

Far away from me

Forever

Maybe never to meet again

I want you to know

that I will always cherish

all that was pure in our relationship.

Sometimes there's overlapping

and you are not who you are 

but someone who someone else wants you to be

I do not recognize the person

you have become

I do not relate to you anymore

But I wish you well

as I bid you goodbye.

Your time, My time

Our time together

Is over.

 

UNFORGIVING

I mean it God

when I say I don't want to hurt

I don't to be unforgiving

but when someone comes along

deliberately gloating, hurting

taunting, flaunting, jaunting

counting, daunting

can you wonder that I'm pointing?

but know it's not who I am

It's my anger speaking up for me

So, God, know I mean it

when I say I don't want to hurt

I don't want to be unforgiving.

 

MENDING

who is to mend a broken heart

that weeps continuously

and all your epithets and talk 

of a higher purpose

drips down as tears

from confused eyes

that only know

they loved and lost.

 

MAYBE?

Maybe

Milestones can be homeward

Kissing can be a bite

Laughing can be silence

Fighting can be right

Unravel can mean knitting

Red can mean it's pink

Stand can mean you're stitting

Floating can mean you sink

Maybe

The Earth can move anti-clockwise, see?

The Sun can rise in the West

And every time you say you don't love me

you can mean, "I love you, you're the best!"

 

Much as I hesitate at the take off

I'm still galloping with the wind

flying over the fence of my doubts

my eyes on the patches of blue 

that easily keep pace with me

through criss-cross branches

enticing, encouraging

till triumphantly at the ocean

to where my soul is anchored

in blue.

 

My glass is neither half empty

nor half full.

Rich to the brim, and

just out of reach

 

GOODBYE MIRAGE

Goodbye Mirage

I must go

I cannot hold on to promises

never to be kept

beautiful as they are

I'll never know.

Goodbye Mirage

I cannot lie

you may be blue lagoon

but let's face it

you're just thin air

once you die.

 

 

 

DEATH

 

The hour was now

The time was day

Your thoughts eternity

And Death -

Just a moment

Leaving no time for

Philosophies

Prayers

Goodbyes

 The players move on...

For them

The hour is still now

The time is still day

Their thoughts eternity.

 A drop evaporated the ocean

Some ripples, 

and then none.

 

LITTLE STREET URCHINS

Ten-year-old little street urchins

little boys..

hanging around - 

voices up a tree

little dirty figures

perched on high walls

eating wild fruit.

How did they get there?

Little urchins

somersaulting into the ocean -

funny fish that are born knowing 

how to swim and dive.

Little urchins

thrive on wild fruits and leaves

play cricket

with sticks for wickets

and branches for bat

and stones for ball.

Litlte urchins...

where do they come from?

living in a parallel universe

living precariously between life and death

all the time!

But it's now past 7 in the evening...

it's time to go home

"Mummy will search."

 

CAT CALL

Cat slipped off the wall

and landed on its feet;

Nine-lived cat

lives each time - 

unlike my ninth call 

that went dead

 

RAIN AND CHAI

It's a dark, rainy day

Rain-splattered, 

I take shelter in a wayside teashop

Shopkeeper places a

steaming hot cup of chai in my hands

I gaze at closed shops across

and trees bent in the wind

Someone runs into the shop,

pulling their coat closer for comfort

and stands against wall, shaking off the water

Shopkeeper places a hot cup of chai in his hands

Gratitude and Thanks, this is all I need

Shopkeeper gives me a plate with a samosa in it

And I think,

At this point in my life

I am exactly

Where I want to be.

MONDAY MUSINGS

monday muse and musings...

if you will...

the blues...

the grind...

coffee-lingering...

the neverending stretch of week ahead...

horrid bright sunny faces

and horrid happy 'good mornings!'...

grrr!!  hate!

monday morning

deep breath -

HERE GOES!

I CAN DO THIS!!

 

slouch.

 

PEACE THAT PASSETH ALL UNDERSTANDING

Sitting there

I heard voices -

Left and right.

On the left I heard

"Your words are wrong

Stop speaking"

On the right I heard

"Your God's not there

Stop believing"

To the left I heard

"You're not perfect

Stop judging"

To the right I heard

"You hypocrite! You liar!"

On the left, the fanatic screamed

"Not religious enough!"

On the right the cynic goaded

"You're just half and half"

To the left, the demon screamed

"I don't love you, you fool!"

To the right, the voice of venom

"I hate you"

The demon, a woman in his arms, scoffed

"She is the one - not you!"

On the left was deadly purpose,

"I shall see you destroyed"

 And amidst the cacophony,

I sat

Peacefully playing the harp.

 

ANSWERED PRAYER

Dear God

Where is the lake of my childhood?

Here you go my dear!

Dear God

Where is that refreshing breeze

Here you go my dear!

Dear God

Where are those trees and green grass and wilderness that I love so much

Here you go my dear

Dear God

Where are the birds i used to know the names of

Here you go my dear

Dear God

Where is the blue sky with the white clouds that I used to lie on the grass and watch float by

Here you go my dear

Dear God

Where is that first star that knew my deepest desire

Here you go my dear

Dear God

Where is the Sun

that the newborn lamb in all its innocence wakes up to?

Here you go my dear

Dear God

Where is the Moon

That I tell stories about to my grandson as I feed him his dinner

Here you go my dear

Dear God 

Where is the mist that I used to cut through to go to school

here you go my dear

Dear God

Where is that beautiful rain that came as a blessing

Here you go my dear

And how do I know it's all from you?

Look up child

I'm that formation in the cloud

REQUEST FROM A PUBLISHER

 

Dear Writer,

Please don't achieve anything in life - 

I try to be lenient, but it's all so inconvenient

Don't marry and have kids and be a husband or a wife

Don't get an education, go to school or to college

What's the point of all that knowledge?

Don't work, don't earn, don't teach

don't clean the barns or be a priest and preach, 

Don't be social and contribute

Don't have role models and pay tribute

Don't be philanthropic

Boy! That's a WHOLE OTHER TOPIC!! 

Don't, don't, don't ever write to anthologies and get published

Don't bring out books...well may be one or two

Don't be nominated and win awards

Pretend you have the flu if you do

Don't have hobbies other than to write

Don't sing, don't click, don't bite or fly a kite

And certainly don't be from Delhi, Paris, London or Ohio -

You see, I just want a non-existent bio.

FULL LIFE

 

This poem isn't

about childhood - 

fleet-footed, hair flying;

Or about school days

books, teachers and homework

plaits and ribbons and uniforms 

and pranks;

Or about teenage and first love

and first heartbreak 

and the horrific pimple outbreak;

Or about true love

marriage

children

grey hair, falling teeth

grandchildren 

and the growing medicine cabinet;

Or about a million small and big things

that go to make up a life well lived....

This poem is about

an old woman

reminiscing.