How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd.

Skipping those Beats

Author: Sathya / Labels:

I could peek the other way
Fine-tuned to every word you say
Secret smiles and a blind sway
Dwindle by dozens
Multiply by millions
But I would peek the other way
Fine-tuned to every word you say

Poetry Jamming - Round 2

Author: Sathya / Labels:


Sathya

The fire rages and roars link no other

Unwilling to stay unborn, latent, unperturbed

Suhasini

Haha, laughs loud the fiend,

For he is heading to his end.

Sathya

The fiend and the fiendfire

The perpetrator and the sufferer

Suhasini 

What art thou think that best maketh,

For in the game of love, many hearts breaketh.

Sathya

Thou art not a figment of imagination

My finest hour began but endeth with thee

Suhasini 

In the happiest times that were wrought,

From the fairest Venice were the colour caught.

Sathya

Rejoicing on the outside my insides did burn,

Tut Tut! He chided me along the turn

Suhasini 

Thoughts flooded in mind loft-like,

As the feet tickled in bed soft-like.

Sathya

These are but threads seamless,

Come, let us creep into this realm endless.

Suhasini

Exclaimed he to take her hands in huge halls,

While she smiled and made love against lovely walls.

Sathya

More than passion gleaned and sighed upon,

Is the beam of the hope lovelorn

Suhasini

Suffering destroys, and self is destroyed,

Born again from the ashes with hope rebuoyed.

Sathya

From dust it shall rise and bound

It may lose its faith in the ground

Suhasini

Lose faith and disbelieve if you must,

But the flight rests its wings in good trust.

Sathya

My treasure and my heart at the same place,

I would rest until the day's last trace.

Suhasini

Abandon all the haughty,

Begin to love the naughty.

Sathya

Naughty is naught but a little smug

He beseeches me for my own drug

Suhasini

Like a spirit on my mind with ease he pranced,

Seductive was the whole talk as if I was tranced.

Sathya

He called me enchantress but nay

Searching for his scent in darkness I lay

Suhasini 

The zephyr was gently cold,

We curled around and rolled.

Sathya

Smokeless was his gaze, liquid and limpid

Sucked into a daze, I saw colours myraid.

Suhasini

Amused and happy was the Muse even,

For the songs were deep when given.

Sathya

Every song had the trickster's touch

But he turned sombre, forever too much

Suhasini

Eyes had to be deceived with tricks,

For you would never have known the pain of pricks.

Sathya

I line my eyes with more black

They shall never know what they lack

Suhasini

Smokey eyes did never reveal the crime,

They were not masked but mastered all the time.

Sathya

I could drink a little hemlock

Get lost in my trickster's scent

Suhasini

Why must I live on

In this love forlorn?

Sathya

Thy love enriched the parched

Bestow thy beauty, O bounteous!

Suhasini

Aphrodite smiles over us,

As we look for reflections.

Sathya

Ensnared by his coiled charms

I held on to the last, insane thread

Suhasini

Lean fingers strikes the harp,

Playing the music of the heart.

Sathya

Flows and pulsates, this rhythm

Miles across where I come from

Suhasini

Miles away yet thy sweet fragrance stayed,

Our togetherness for eternity was what I prayed.

Sathya

The wait was long, the sun was setting,

Melting the colours the dusk did the painting

Suhasini

Painting spoke a million thoughts,

For too long were those kept in naughts.

Sathya

Churl the hues for me when I come,

Claim the darkness distraught with the lonesome

Suhasini

Let's make love in the realm of darkness,

And hope to see the rays of sweetness.

Sathya

The sweetness smiles with your guile

I touch it, the fleeting promise of the nile

Suhasini

By the shore, we stole kisses,

And jumped over pebbles and hisses.

Sathya

May this flowing water never end

Break the barriers, let the world condescend!

Suhasini

What business have we with this world?

Our universe is far far away pearled.

Sathya

It could all but come crashing down,

In a universe parallel we'd erase the brown

Suhasini

Mortal lives can be crushed to dust,

Immortal consummation shall forever be must.

Poetry Jamming - Round 1

Author: Sathya / Labels:



Sathya

Alone, he drinks the embers of the sun

The day crashes around

Suhasini

As the illumined mind dawns,

It still waits in line for fawns.

Sathya

The mind twirled his mustache

Laughed and did a little dance

Suhasini

Praise the soldier's brave,

As he reaches glory's grave.

Sathya

Won't you show the Ungrateful

That you skip around not baleful

Suhasini

The deceiving beauty as it blooms,

Has haunted many to their tombs.

Sathya

But I will lurk in thy labryinth

Hanging on, never too forlorn

Suhasini

His warm breath gushed close to my ears,

And in that moment I felt I'd lived for many years.

Sathya

My bosom heaves in anticipation

My perfume likes no peer

Suhasini

In a long kiss, a little saliva swallowed,

This consummation was highly hallowed.

Sathya

Oh don't say we're in Neverland

Haven't we lived a thousand lives yet?

Suhasini

Thousand lives yet to live you say,

I could spend an entire life with you in a day.

Sathya

Graze my walls, wield thy bow

Archer! I can perch with hope.

Suhasini

Burning cigarette ashes as I drew,

Decades later a young bud grew.

Sathya

Green is the colour of my melancholy

The shadow plays and so does your memory

Suhasini

When these maddening hearts connect, they do for all seasons,

But many love stories have remained unhappy, for no reasons.

Sathya

It was the Creeper's choice to stay

He had all but to ask my branch's way!

Suhasini

Covered in leaves, mud and clay,

Under the moonlight, naked we lay.

Sathya

Sated you were in the caves of bliss

Whispers from my core touched your slumber

Suhasini

No cozy beds or silken pillows and sheets,

Just you and me in each other's beats.

Searching for Metaphors

Author: Sathya / Labels:

So one day I was walking along with my mother in the marketplace, searching for metaphors. You might be interested to ask which shop sells them, but the truth was, she was shopping and I was continuing my search for metaphors.

My hometown is small, with limited space for development. Wait, I don’t think this is my opinion. In fact I just happened to hear it from someone and assumed it to be true. My town has developed in the last eight years, a shape of city marring the landscape. But it wasn’t as if I would forget my way about. A lot of things remained unchanged- old shops, familiar landmarks, the beach...

Of course the sea wouldn’t change. Maybe that is why I’m so fond of it.

Passing through a confectionery named ‘Rema’ made me do something I used to involuntarily do as a child- look for the familiar face of a middle aged man. If I try to remember his face in my mind, I would get only a hazy image. I’m sure if I see him again I would know. I was to only see his photograph hung there in his memory because he was no more.

Maybe I ought to feel sad. Almost twenty years had passed from that particular childhood, but his actions weren’t forgotten by me. He used to give me free sweets whenever we visited the confectionery, hence a greedy child’s involuntary glance towards it. I had taken it for granted that I would get free sweets if I pass by, for he had never disappointed me.  I remember I used to only respond with a smile or a rare ‘thank you’ whenever he presented me with what I was anticipating for. Maybe I ought to have spoken to him more, but I was a shy child who kept much to herself. Anyway, adults found shy children less dangerous than the loquacious ones and I was more than happy to comply with their expectations.

As if reading my thread of thoughts, my mother said, “You remember the man who used to give you sweets? He is no more.” Then she smiled one of her poignant, sad smiles.It was to express regret over the death of a generous man who was fond of children- shy, secretly greedy ones who only substituted smiles for a ‘thank you’. I think I also have that kind of a smile among my other ones- forced, shy, genuine, dramatic.  I think she expected me to comment or offer an incident of reminiscence, but I merely nodded without putting on my ‘poignant’ smile. I asked her if she remembered what his name was, which made her crease her forehead for fives seconds or more and admit that she did not.

I had found one of my metaphors. Aren’t metaphors supposed to be comparisons? I was trying to find one to compare my childhood in my hometown; it had to be something old and nothing new. Change may be constant, but it is also secretly hated. We want the past to be remembered as glorious and untainted. My town has undergone changes, but the people have become almost unrecognizable, not like a shadow of their former selves, but with a strange metamorphosis of something else which children fond of imagination do not wish to understand.

This nameless man with a forgotten face was my metaphor. At that moment, I couldn’t even muster a poignant smile.

I continued the search for the next metaphor.

Followers

Treasure

  • GRIEF IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS - Max Porter
  • POSSESSION - A.S. Byatt
  • THE WASTELAND - T.S. Eliot
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