Weathered

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how long shall we hold onto the flowers
once were silken, now crisp?

shall we carry it along, make it home
when houses are changed?

what the forgotten corner will do
voice the vanity of your proud days?

what dissent the potpourri shall bear
oft it muffles at the cries of joy

of fresh bouquets
arriving
now and then

 

© Written Frames, 2020

let me be

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why don’t you look at me?

do you see demons in me?

and the demons of hurt ego you hide

you hide, is that what you want to be?

 

why don’t you talk to me?

is it the rattle and ring of words I may say, or my voice shrewd?

I am drilling holes in your gut and tongue

bittering your taste, mocking your permeating anger

 

why don’t you pick on me?

thrash me breathless with your slurring speech

your skin swamped with hot-spills of blood,

perforations with my name engraved oozing of it

 

talk to me, talk to me, talk to me

have I noticed before your clasped lips;

passively humming a song – let me be

trodden like an autumn leave, betrayed

let me be, let me be, let me be

catapulted on the shore naked

let me be, let me be, let me be

 

tell me

where does your moon-eclipsed eyes settle?

even the void in your smile matters

do not look away, hold me naive in your view

and know your name breathing on my tongue

resonating in my lungs, begging to stay

 

will you kiss me if I pucker my lips now?

will you poison my senses with sweet love?

birds in my heart still leave their nest

echo of conch shells summoning my respect

furtive glances capture you afar and worthy

I behest, smiling to my own a mercy

let me be, let me be, let me be

a seeker and you darling, why leave me thirsty?

 

©Written Frames, 2019

Unknowingly

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I wake up, vowing to live

mornings with missing eyelashes

 

knowing, I dream a lot

with dreams, I wish whatnot

 

if a lash lands on your palm; the chances,

forget not to blow it off

 

knowing, it is coming from me

a dandelion leaf of the magic foreseen

 

blown into the stardust of universe, and

song of connecting strings

 

we hold

unknowingly

 

It was already an hour into the new year and I could not hit the bed just then. My mind runs on a a poetic engine and a poem was so necessary to fuel it up into next gear.

Here is a poem to a year full of dreams and wishes to come true. Happy New Year pals!

❤ ❤

Every day is new and may you do something new each day. Make every moment count.

Lots of love and gratitude for your continuous support!

Hope you like the poem! ❤

 

©Written Frames, 2019

 

 

 

Untaught

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in teaching of life and its essentials

lessons of the heart were missed you say

O precious how it pains

failing at futile attempts to swot

what and whys of hearts as they beat

 

arcane claws of agony and woe

delphic to the hearts unknown,

oblivious to inarticulacy of voice and blood-

oft that swells and surges,

such denouement of love comes slow

 

eyes closed, let cascades flow-

drip and dribble on a clenched fist,

tugs at the chest as water grows

death-or-glory of a drowning earthbound,

there lays the hieroglyphic book on love closed

 

lessons of heart are learnt not,

but write in volumes yet unbind,

unwinding the epistles of longings

as autumn leaves crack with sunshine

encasing the passion of summer preserved

 

unwavering, unabashed and untaught

our story of love

we dare to write

on our own

no one can teach us how to love

 

©Written Frames, 2018

Make me believe

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a multitude of leaves yellowed and dried

with a finger on lip

a few bit their tongue tip

doomed to be crushed, silently they lie

or am I deaf? No, none of them cried;

seasonally promised of rebirth-

they believed

 

so are we? we are parched and dried,

plucked from our hives, tired of our fights

flown off to faraway lands- barren and bare

no roots to provide refuge and no touch of care

will we ever bloom again?

do we deserve another shower of rain?

 

make me believe we do

I will bloom, I long for you.

 

To believe is not about what you think is right. To believe is to hang on to something you wish to exist.

To believe is to hope.

 

© Written Frames, 2018

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