Fall

The blackboard
of the nights' sky
where the crystal
studded chalks
draw their regular lines
They say
this is
where the day
sink into
into
the empty bowels
of the night
The forlorn moon
spy over
insomniac heartaches
The day filled
to the brim
would pour
out its dreams
and some tears
And the night
would
fall
fall down
from the sky


http://soibamharipriya.blogspot.com ©

....And we leave patches

What do I tell you
how it is
When from a distance
I watch the evening
dark and deep
fall
into the arms of day
The sun recedes
in the deep embrace
of the brooding hills
Then you arrived
to divide up
our lot
Yours and mine
Divide up
embraces
How is it?
How do we
cut apart
this book
we wrote
with stars
and half a moon
How do we
divide
conversations
Was it yours or mine?
A question
to my answer
An answer
to my question
Would the sun
wait not for dawn
Would the hills
wait not for dusk
What do I tell you
how it is
How do we
divide
you in me
me in you
And we leave
patches
of holes
in
what we wove
each carrying
a tattered bit
What do I ask now?
Would we seek
another loom
another thread?
or take our tattered bits
towards where
the brooding hills
embraces the sun

http://soibamharipriya.blogspot.com ©

Nothing

No pain
of loss
No angst
or pathos
The
footsteps
gradually
dies
The breeze
flies
carrying
a scent
Memories
-some
faded
some
discarded
Nothing
was
left
not even
a tattered
shred
Not even
the scab
of an old wound

http://soibamharipriya.blogspot.com ©

The end

This is where
the road ends
tarmac
of India shining
gives way
to gravel
and red dirt
of India whining
Red eyed lantern
with irregular wicks
cast their sorrowful gaze
on
the cables
above
the village
Traversed
without stopping by
It would shine
in other places
Those islands of hope
a granary
of surplus
doesn't sow
but reaps
Oh how
it is?

Solely mine

lips to lips
like muzzle to muzzle
trace of voices
beneath bedspreads
of fickle affairs
A bad taste
in my mouth
I got used to
effortlessly traversed
from one to another
a tedious route
seeking myself
in many others
discovered a trace here
in her pain
encountered my fear
in his eyes
uncovered a trail
in her secrets
I stumbled upon
the zenith
of consummation
the loss
the liberation
solely mine

http://soibamharipriya.blogspot.com ©

Hues

He made me touch
green of the foliage
told me
its a camouflage
between
hunger and surplus
He grieved
his land called red
when it was
green in monsoon
yellow in autumn
His earth
a riot of colour
Red isn't one of them
he explained
He gave me flowers
like cotton
like clouds
like yellowed half of a pumpkin
like yellowed strands of straw
Red is something else
he said
and offered me berries
of scarlet
Red was the vermillion
on the women's forehead
Red the flowers
on her hair
not easily untangled
he told me
but Brown is it
he decided
the brown of hunger
the brown bark of unyielding earth
Red terror
screeched
the hysterical reporter
over the screen
Red is just
the Palash flowers
he wept
heaving his body
tattooed with Gond tales

http://soibamharipriya.blogspot.com ©