Relative Confessions Part 4

 

Things

old moccasins

bleeding ink

on paper folds

crocheted doilies

clumsy artwork

tins, boxes, bottles

colors, scents aplenty

missing dupattas

lampshade warmth

chai cuppa

silver choker

coins, leftovers

buddha heads

stained frames

 

Minutes

mystical smiles

careless laughs

spoken silence

measured awareness

refined writings

 

Habits

incoherent jokes

wrinkled tears

hospital drips

fiddled stones

illustrative PDA

shared pregnancies

distilled deaths

sobering companionships

pouched accessories

 

Arsenal

persistent, consistent

conviction in moments

friendship snobs

us

 

 

Relative Confessions Part 3

Starfish you

Solidarity with the center

Placenta like, tentacles

push you outwards

towards your next venture

 

Mermaid you

Arielle like, personality,

enchanted

desire carefree

dream unlamented

 

Protagonist you

obnoxious enough,

living intersections

travelling with bumps

 

Divinity you

faith follower, inward sure

refreshing with a twist

owning them pajamas

or the haute couture

 

Sisters us, our

genetic truimphs, fatal flaws

stitch by stitch

a formidable gauze

crafted

 

The Wordsworthian idyll

of idleness, we owe us

knowing brittle realities

can pop, sudden, sour

our tool box

will stay

iconic, ours to own

 

NaPoWriMo 2017

 

Relative Confessions – Part 2

unknowingly

unabashedly

you have owned

designing fatherhood

epic, effortless

always,conspiring

for us,making things happen

 

The Expansiveness of being you

your span beyond

geography, language

learning

you remain a receiver

and giver

 

The Resilience of being you

tides and winds

warnings of disaster

seismic aftershocks

left you with

moments, rubble

you always, stood

chin up, walked

forward and onward

 

Giant

though, pygmy ego

magical, magnificent

Papa

 

NaPoWriMo – Countdown day 5

Relative Confessions – Part 1

brother, son, friend

wistful warmth, your

chubby hand clasp

eager steps, boots

unlaced always

a worried voice, future

unfolding uncertain

sharp gaze, gentle

dove like; tiger raw

Urn glistened, fugitive

arms holding; pieces of us

set you home, be fearless

we follow just behind

you taught, impermanence

our pending lessons

were yours to bear

to taste, an aching love

damnest of all tears

for abundance, you postmarked

sweetest of all smiles

NaPoWriMo – Countdown day 6

Correlation of hope and shadows

Bubbles she catapults into the sky, fall

Etched sharp meteor streak like

 

Silence within and without nonetheless

Screaming she echoes herself and hers shamelessly

Breaking into her own walls

 

Beginnings and endings defined again

Scratching, scribbling, doodling journeys on hearts

Listen up to my shunned stories

 

Manicured toes march heeled alongside

calloused hands and stiffened knees bruised together

Afterlives ablaze with singed bouquets

 

Go disrupt or demonize regrets

Celebrate rejoice as you cover or uncover

Flow with or against, never mind

Them.

I)The Zephyr embraces my hair

wet, smooth and ticklish

it writes a gentle embrace

on my cheeks

whispering an invocation

to Color

at the lackluster perpetuation

of color deprivation

of color negation

of color amnesia

In the blood

that injures into red droplets

from a sharp paper cut

In the bones

that break into grey calcium crumbles

running too fast for your fitness

In the tooth, rotten rust

that plops into the dentist’s dish

extracting the pain

In the poop

deep devilish

washed away in the commode

as you pretend to watch the world stream by

In the tears

that flow like golden baptism

at graduation

In the spit

phlegmatic demonstration of dissent

demonstration of dissent

In the words

that demonstrate

a blue ink like patience

in their description of mayhem

In the fear

that threatens

to bolt up your throat

puckish mold like

the acidic delusion

and sweet vulnerability

leaving a mineral taste

it caresses my neck

and then wanders

beneath my scarf folds

II)Says the Zephyr wave like

to my heartbeat erratic

I caught the remnants

of human leftovers

from a sunken ship

in my fishing net

and

I am puzzled

the remains were all the same

neutral, indifferent, blind

or just washed away

the blood, bones and teeth

I offered them

back to the deep

haunted

by the question of color

ever since

III)Then the westerly swishes

around me

shuddering

settling at my waist

playful yet determined

It asks my core

what happened??

to skin, hair, eyes

grappling shade to shade

in the battlefield

of draining humanity

stain like stubborn

the color

within the panoramic hue

of faces in and around you

jarring, brutal

starkly different

a reminder

there is

unfinished business

adamant

at being the solution

as well as the problem

pretending that

there will be color redemption

is unfair, a myth

surrender instead to it

or forever

it will jarringly

show up

in physical attributes

juxtaposed

scruffy Brown

with

meticulous White

foreboding Pale

with

wistful Black

persevering

expanding the palette

qualifying the flux

as a miracle

that the other color

brings to our tapestry

reunions waiting

where threads,twine,wool

meet and unmeet

touching away the desolate

healing in collaboration

Then what’s holding you back??

IV)With a whiff the cottony breeze fleets

over my eyes

my waist is released

give yourself permission

to nurture

rearrange

your color quotient

be okay to be awkward

unleash the demons

in your dungeons

or be condemned

to the conformity of color

your role

in the catastrophe

is yours to choose

if authoritative ownership

of the process

is far fetched

make a miniature debut

pretend, act

the heritage of color

locate yourself

in a life

of elegant hues

or be condemned

to a stark hueless slumber

the sun is setting

you must hasten

glistening orange burns

into the stillness

soon

all will be ash and slate

redeem color relevance

or choose colour-blindness

V)Zephyr seawards leaves behind

a calmness

forcing a pause

as it goes onwards

over the water

blue crystal clear

graffiti remnants

stay in the mist

salve like

It is the one year anniversary of your retirement

twelve months since you took a leap of faith

and each time during these 12 months that you responded to

the frequently asked questions –

you grew taller

stood stronger

taught honesty

demonstrated discipline

and most importantly,

you relished in pride

at letting go

Q1 – So, do you miss work?

asked the voice with a “told you so” tone!

Ans – No, because work was what I did for 30 years

but not what I leaned on for my self-worth

Q2 – So, what do you do then with your days? a cynic tone spilling over

a cynic tone spilling over

Ans – I do a lot; it includes

the dishes, the pot of chicken curry

travel or just walk and soak in the sights&sounds

photography, people, culture awareness

I do ask a lot of questions

research and develop my hobbies

I do engage in politics – both as an academic understanding

and as a cause for reflection

I do renovation projects in my home

and, I feel neither guilty nor embarrassed

Q3 – Don’t you miss the camaraderie and friendship?

meaning, your own connections..

Ans – I miss my friends, but am reminded every day

friends who matter still care for me and are around

I also have an advantage that shields me from this

that shields me from this vacuum of missed connections

I go to bed every night with my best friend

I invest more in my children and family

not necessarily in terms of time

but surely in terms of thought, intentional thought

Q4 – Are you ok second fiddling?

that man like voice booming into the question

Ans – Those who know me, also know

I don’t fiddle around much

I own it –

my decision, my relationships

my happiness

Try it, and when you start owning your position

the number game does not bother anymore

Q5 – What plan do you have now that you are a year into retirement?

in other words, don’t you feel lost

Ans – Submerging into perspectives that

fell out of my vision view thus far

Engaging with my hobbies

Falling in tune with the circadian rhythm

that freedom brings to you

Staying stimulated

Q6 – What is the one myth you were able to bust about retired life?

Now.. I got ya!

Ans – The warnings about the time together

being in each other’s space

the effort needed to ensure your relationship

adapts and is able to flourish

On this very special One Year Anniversary

We celebrate you and all the

Real Men like you!

REALLY(R)

Know what beauty means

it is the blues from your young heart yearning

listening to your favorite music album

it is the yellow dust from the first sunflower

as it blossomed along with your breast

it is the red stains from the bleeding cries

of your first menstruation pains

ALWAYS(A)

Hold your head high

by being that girl with the careless step

who walked with her daddy

through the nooks, corners and aisles of the city

as he taught you stories he wrote under the street lamp

sang songs he hummed for his first love on the park bench

laughed out loud with the gleaming shine of his eyes

as he threw you questions about

what you wanted to be

and you decided to fly

PLAY(P)

Hard and fair

expect to stare right back

into the endocardium of that man

who assumes height is a synonym with gender

drive in the middle lane knowing

your firm strides and consistent pace

can never be countered enough

or enable a short cut to the man

to the man wheeling a truck

as his only right to access

stand sturdy and pillar like

on your turf

because the world can swirl

mad at your heels

but you will always spring back

your roots and arteries

go way deep

and

much farther

your threshold to pain

is way higher

than the howling winds

can perceive

EXCEL(E)

At loving, sharing, smiling, caring

for those

you will be the role model for

empowered enough

to counter

infraction with sustenance

insult with honor

expectation of submission with equitable contest

provocation with a stubborn stoic

posturing with fluidity

R-A-P-E

The heck out of anyone

who presumes

you should be different

or do different

your promise is

to be your excruciating self

and never a

cookie cutter version

which

suits perspectives

that pretend

to prevent pain

First Snowfall

revisiting the palette

black,white and nothing

to paint in

moods, madness

pure

plain

hopeful

First Snowflake

defining magic

tentacle by tentacle

frost falls like stars

on the ground

weightless

soundless

like broken dreams

First Snowman

sturdy and sure

adding dimension

to the flat white expanse

the red scarf

fluttering

yet tight in a knot

contradictory but real

First SnowPlough

shaving down the streets

noisy,yellow&mean

necessary to bring back reality

there is always the black

under the white

a reminder that

redemption

is just

a layer away

First Snowstorm

Leaving you trapped

in the cocoon

of your home

and mind

there is magic outside

the window

and the red coals burn ember

in the hearth inside

destruction though

is just an angry

doorway away

First Snowmelt

it left behind

patches

the brown-green grass

waiting ,eager

wanting

the damp

wet cover

on every inch

frolicking

snow flakes

start to spray

a frothy embrace

the trees above weep

perseverance always pays

Part II,Oct 2016

Colors teasing with their rich hues

Like a child with his first box of crayon colors

Crunching into the grass below

The leaves tickle each other

Raising up a playful concert

Like the toddler relishes the feel of

his own feet on the ground

Pleasant in sight, smell and emotion

The wind kissing the Sun

Like the coffin kisses the earth

Knowing well

Life will lay there

Dormant, only enough

to encourage thankfulness

and rustle in the hope

into our hearts

Part I, Oct 2015

The October Sun shines bright

wanting to keep his promise

the leaves crackle golden before they fall

at daybreak

as I step onto the rich rust carpet

the crunching ember below my feet rekindles hope

Seasons silently pass by

but moments can last forever..