Adieu!

You are the morning wind. Chilly yet comforting. Caressing me and  loving me as you blow through my night gown. Tapping me on the shoulder gently just to make me turn around and smile at you.

You bring in the zest needed as a fix for my morning blues. You are that unforgetfully beautiful moment when the weak tangy winter sun shines on me as you tickle me through. You play with the flowers, making them dance to your tune.

They say that your tune is silent though I think that’s not so. All they need to do is probably listen closely.

You are that sparkle in the eye of a child as he stealthily eat ice cream in the winters.

You are that kind of a morning wind. The kind that gushes at a speed so overwhelming where needed, breaking and tearing its way through though flowing like a smooth river of liquid silver as the full moon shines on it as it snakes its way through mountains.

You are the morning wind. My favourite kind of wind.

I miss you. Come home soon to tingle my spine and envelop me in your warmth like you always do. The same kind of warmth one feels when holding cashmere kids in one’s arms with their coffee coloured wool as they sweetly ‘Baa’aaa’ in your ears.

Weathered and Dying

So I'm just another story you happened to read while taking the subway. I am the dirty piece of newspaper that had been nearly folded and stuck behind a seat. My folded corner has yellowed and weathered with time. I used to hear people talking, lovers whispering, punks humming but it has been quite some time since I have seen them. I wanted to feel the crisp zesty breeze tingling me and making me sway and make crackling sounds.

You picked me up that day and unfolded me. I thought to myself that finally I'll feel the breeze again and yes I did too. But didn't know that all you used me for was wiping your sweaty forehead and throwing me on the corner of some street only to be trampled upon by passer-bys and garbage collection trucks.

A Flavour of Welkin

The sun was setting somewhere behind these towering mountains and all that suggested was a faint orange tinge in the eastern sky. A soft breeze blew tickling the nape of my neck with my hair and its tingling cold ghostly touch. The fine grains of moist soil stuck in between the curves of my toes as I walked absently towards the river, while looking at the tangerine sky, diving and plunging into bouts of imagination at the forms made by the picturesque puffy clouds with ends blending like cream in the blue. A drop of water fell on my bare shoulder and took me by surprise. I closed my eyes lightly and opened my mouth waiting for another raindrop to nestle on my tongue so I could taste the creamy sweet flavour of the heavens.

posted from Bloggeroid

I'm Almost There

I don't want no clutches this time around.
I don't want to smile 'cos you'll want me to.
I'll pour some water in vessel of my soul,
And strut and drag myself to my goal.
So stand there laughing at me as the girl who struts,
But I'll walk to my goal with the bullets piercing in my guts !

posted from Bloggeroid

Tomorrow Waits To Welcome Me

I know one day I'll walk on fine sand.
Skip around and be merry too.
Sit around a bonfire next to you,
Smiling to myself without a clue.
But today isn't that day,
I know so for sure.
Today I'm crawling through this dark wet cave,
With the mirage of the beautiful beach outside helping me through.
I know the myriad colours of the sea,
Would wash the bleakness the cave has painted me in.
So I crawl further with my knees scathed and sore,
With a tiny glimmer in my half-closed eyes!

posted from Bloggeroid

Floating in Bliss

The water is cold. It numbs me. I take a deep breath and immerse myself underwater.

I'm surrounded by a liquid that tranquils my racing heart. It was just beating as wildly as that of a wild hare scurrying along and trying to avoid the hunter's target.

But now, the smooth and soft water is freezing my oozing mind. My closed eyes can feel the stream water tickling me.

Its a whole different world down here. I wish they knew so. A tranquil world. A world where I talk in a new, soft and peaceful language and converse with every droplet that that forms part of the rushing water, as it slides along my warm body.

Living my Existance

I won't be bent and changed. I have not sculpted out of soft wet wood. They sculpted me out of marble. I'll stay my ground. I stand in the park and see the kids walking with their parents eating ice creams and cotton candies. They sometimes litter at my feet. But I don't mind them because they are pure if heart unlike the deceitful you. You promised me that I could walk but my dreams of seeing the world would always be there or that's what my friends tell me. They tell me stories as they perch on my head and shoulders. Despite the fact that I can't travel though I think I should thank you for one thing. Even though you didn't have it in ur mind while you sculpted me but I stay awake. Taking in everything around me. Not missing anything unlike you, who drinks every night in the desperation to forget all that you are afraid you might see and experience.

posted from Bloggeroid