Roses never given

Image and poem copyright Vibina Narayan

Oh sweet heart

who’s love

carries the curse of

wilted roses.

Too beautiful to be thrown.

Too spent, to be kept.

Too joyous to ignore.

Too heartbroken to be owned.

Luna

Poetry by Vibina Narayan @soulofscheherazade. Image by Shweta Kallianpurkar @a_tad_askew

I prayed.

A little block of

the burdened sky

dropped down.

And the sun blushed,

In the West End of

my bizarre idea of

Paradise.

Letting be, and

a trickle of

Letting go.

All for me, and

All for mine.

I chased

another bubble of hope,

and threw

another reckless of a wish,

to the brooding

handover of twilight.

Fancying always the

Canny, crescent smile

of an obscured shadow

of the two faced

lunar,

(A full blue moon only to usurp my heart)

Upon the transitioning palette of dreams

of tonight.

And it brought me

to you (once again),

And a song humming in me

all week long.

While the winter’s fire

and the abandoned echo

of a child’s laugh

down the long road home,

crooned away the passing

of this evening,

Walking all the miles in

thoughts between

the hearts of

You and I.

December

Just re-visiting an old favourite poem of mine simply titled, ‘December’. Hope you like 🙂

Image and poem copyright Vibina Narayan

Little bird.

Are you lost amongst

the thorny brambles

knitting up the clear freezing sky.

Are you hungry?

For the grains, the kind, placid strangers of summer

Once threw your way.

Are you searching for the voice

that you once used for

singing the forlorn ballads of

autumn love that

died along with their leaves.

You know, I am here

Waiting with a basin full

of love and salt, shed

this bygone year.

Soaking in them the

seeds of tomorrow for

a much brighter morning,

a much silent noon,

to plant in the soil

of my little strength.

Don’t leave me a trinket.

It is nothing but another memory of you.

Another memory of you

Owing me something.

You may have heard of this,

But my love knows no debts,

or simple words of gratitude.

Just pay me a visit,

A flutter of your beautiful wings,

And those colourful plumes

to frenzy my ill heart.

For to see your beating bosom,

Throbbing with a million unsung songs to be proud of,

And your eyes meeting a million friends

amongst yours or otherwise,

Bring a thousand rhythms of joy,

to my winter soul and

December thoughts.

Indefatigable

Image Copyright Vibina Narayan

Elusive sunshine, playmate of the cassock clouds

Let me soak you in, until you allow.

The birds cackle- happy silhouettes of freedom

In a happier blue sky,

A song of chores and forage, amongst the thicket of

Coloured woods of a depleting August summer.

The gentle breeze, that was yesterday a storm to reckon,

Makes the trees sway and dance to soothe our listless souls

That lay basking in the afternoon drizzle, believing

they will escape what they cannot.

Home is much cherished with pride until

Love is replaced with the truth of what it is not.

And I breathe to myself, a silent whisper-

Heaven and winds churned by the same skies know,

These trees can bend to break and destroy, but do not.

As much as they know me, indefatigable

Beneath the placid armour of livelihood I don,

To make everything simple and worthwhile.

H is for Hamlet

20200606_191835

 

This gray day has bought with it

Some wizened thoughts

Of a past not long back

When the feet knew of stinging bites

And the heart found love in

Nothing old or known and

Thorns and stones

(and stupid idealism).

 

The hunger has died, but the burn remains.

The urge to purge the stillborn memories

Of many of our dreams we built callously,

(brick by brick)

Whetted by the stone of curiosity,

Licked by the blade of loneliness,

they have planted beautiful blooms

for the Gods in their slave’s garden.

To be enjoyed while taking a pinch of salt

With a drink to our sealed fate.

 

Grief comes to those who have the time to cry.

The rest of us keep on running until

we run dry.

And sometimes we remember to breathe,

As there is nothing any longer to feel.

While the gush of air in dissolves the body

Into the universe of our head rush,

And the clouds above roll out the drums and the show,

but no rains or tears from within,

I often question the distant rainbow,

I remember seeing while I walked a prayer for you, only to get

An endless reflection of vacuous colours,

in the mirrored room of illusions I built for myself. All over again.

Forget me never

20200423_131814

 

 

Forget me never

Forget me not.

I am the music in your heart.

I am the soul of your art.

Forget me never

Forget me not.

I am the faint whisper in the sweetest of your dream.

I am the wisp o’ air caressing your face, in the deepest of your sleep.

Forget me never

Forget me not.

I am the remnant of your love for tomorrow.

I am the remnant of all your bygone joys and sorrow.

Honeysuckles

IMG_20200418_113933_937

 

 

Hold me tender, hold me kind

My bones are as fragile as your promises.

Hold me tender, hold me kind

My skin is as brittle as your valour.

Hold me tender, hold me kind

My breath is as feeble as your presence in us.

Hold me tender, hold me kind

My heart’s flower is as delicate as your fiery words of love.

Divine Retribution

IMG_20180718_184746_247

What is ignorance

But another face of arrogance,

Wisely chosen to believe in

Bliss.

By her.

 

Cantankerous cackles of a misfit

Over air borne signals,

To the only blood minimally worthy

Of trustworthy.

 

Of pompous cries of valour in the battlefield, she spoke,

If the arrow of extra meat ever found her.

Her tired jowl and

Always sad scowl sighed,

She could endure

The poison her lover drank

And walk the darkness through blindness with

No sticks and pities required.

 

Will she be forgiven by the deities

Of her tribe?

Will she be laughed at by the children

Of tomorrow

With tales of jibe?

Forsaken by waves of mirthless merriment

Across the room,

She ruminates of all the galaxies to feast on

Had she loved a little more.

 

Will she have peace

In her silent thoughts

Of absolutely silent nothings.

Haunted by a heartburn of undigested concoctions

Of loss,remorse and musings now

So morose.

 

For life is a cycle of moments,

More so gray when living through them

But evermore greener when looking at them,

Had she held a palette of colours and a paintbrush of wit,

To imbue yellow into the stones of blue

And stroke a right red

As the mightiest of hues.

 

 

Reflections

reflections

Where did my dear

I let go off you?

When did I leave

That rope

I had tied your heart to

My able, small hands?

In between the lines of our lives

To the lines that now lie

Beneath our eyes,

When did I lose you

While seeking lost treasures

In the kingdom beneath

The sea that held legends and gold

And ships and shells

As false as their

Tales of mermaids.

 

Will a note of love be good enough

Or a Sufi’s* blessing?

Bottled with the pearl of

My yearning,

Pushed across the sea

By the abr** sent by the

Gods above who have always

Loved me.

Will the pining heart of

A shy poet do?

Will the strength of a

Monk in reverence,

To let us be

Do?

There must be a map somewhere,

Hidden amidst rocks and thorns

In a cave swallowed by the

Shadows of phantoms of

Another world,

That will take us to

Jannat***

Far beyond our

Conscience,

Our grasp.

 

I will get on my saddle now,

I will ride my white beauty

Through the moonlit fields now,

Like a raging dacoit.

Silence torn by

Screams that will never be

Let out.

Before anybody else up above

Throws an irate sword of thunder

To plunge this night of

Our lives.

 

*mystic (Urdu)

**clouds (Urdu)

*** paradise (Urdu)

 

 

 

 

 

Home

A Long Road Ahead

It is a long way to home.

Home, where sometimes I know

no Home.

Well, what is a home

When the heart is

Always a nomad.

Somedays here, somedays there,

Somedays found and

Somedays lost.

The sun shined above the fields of heather for me

Today.

Maybe an invite

Wrapped in purple to lure

and call it a

Home?

*

My mind runs faster

Than my deformed feet.

*

My heart is still sunk

In the memories of

Yesterday’s winter.

The cold and dark

My motel for a long time.

They let go of me

Even the frost needs rent,

And I am penniless

With no dimes to rub or spend.

I am back with my old friend

The shadows from the alleys.

Together we lurk

Like the ghosts of a long lost legend,

Listening to the jingles and looking at the twinkles

Oggling at drunk wanton cherub faces of

Joyous December,

And remembering the warmth in the innards

Of our soul

That could vein in us

With hot boiled spirits.

*

I ran the entire length of spring,

Blooming buds of cherries and daffs and all.

Baby greens dotting the widowed trees,

A new promise laid in

The womb of time.

Branches singing together

With the mirth of mynahs.

 

Let this be where I breathe

In and out now.

This cloud and sun speckled ground

Where I dance the songs

Of lost dreams.

Lost,

With the youth of time.

 

But I still know

I am miles away from home.

And I still know,

I will return back to that motel

I once belonged.