Some moments
I found, all glitter and shine.
I picked them up and claimed them
mine.
Locked in the heart, away from
time,
In an ornate box, like vintage
wine.
On a nippy night, with gentle
knocks,
Memories tap on the blue
lace box,
My winter heart, dusts the frost,
rattles the lock, but the key is lost.
It's been raining today, all
day long.
The road looks like a lit-up river of twisty red and yellow lights.
I stare at the road, and think of Chara, a star, 26 light years away,
which would be seeing the 17-year-old
me, on a similar rainy day,
The light having finally reached there, only
today.
That rainy afternoon, you came by my
door.
I pulled you inside, into my arms. We fell on the bed,
Smiles merging into longing kisses, not a word said.
But you pulled back, my face in your hands.
You sat me down, nestled between your
legs,
My back to your chest your arms
circling me
'Let's talk today' you said with a
smile.
Your voice gentle. ‘Let’s talk of you
and me'
Of you and me. Of life and love.
Of dreams together. And dreams alone.
I have locked that afternoon, inside my
heart
hidden away from time, nestled in a
blue lace box.
On Chara......26 light years away,
I dip your arms again, nestled between
your legs.
My back to your chest, your arms
circling me.
Tomorrow, we shall meet again, on a
different star
And I will remain in your arms, nestled
between your legs.
My back to your chest, your arms
circling me.
Till eternity… long after the light
fades from earth.
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The desire to sip some tea,
blowing on it gently.
Your smile in my eyes,
Like a forbidden prize.
The swirl of milky mist,
over the cup just kissed.
Crumbs lining your face,
a cookie leaving its trace.
The curl of a longing heart,
on the pain of being apart.
Fingers itching to close,
the distance that we chose.
Greed comes in many-a-shade,
Today, it chose to color me red.
'Let's speak tomorrow', he said.
I muted the words in my head.
Tomorrow came and tomorrow went.
Muted thoughts, now tired and spent,
wonder endlessly if we ever would find.
that tomorrow he spoke of.....
(That tomorrow we left behind) ???
Her lips spell the music, she is smiling
to the beat.
She looks like the kinda girl, who plays songs on repeat.
Her car draws by my side. The traffic signal turns red.
She sits with her eyes closed, rocking
and nodding her head.
She smiles and she whistles, her hair dancing
on her cheek.
She is a loud Friday cheer at the end
of my vapid week.
Soon my heart is tap-tapping, cooking up
a mushy dream.
She slowly opens her eyes just when the
signal turns green.
I drive on. She turns right. I was driving
in the wrong lane.
I will search for her face, when the
signal goes red again.
Hold on dear heart....till the signal glows red again.
I pulled out a white shirt today,
from my cupboard’s bedrock.
Slightly wrinkled cotton,
with flowers on the smock.
It’s fragrant with memories,
a kerchief in the pocket.
It stings behind the eyelids,
and I am not able to block it.
I smell a rainy evening,
spent barefoot on the grass,
With a tepid tea in hand,
and a hazy, wet eyeglass.
I sit wearing the white shirt,
listening for your stead,
The loss of your embrace,
whispers on my neck.
It haunts of whys and what-ifs,
what should be and could be.
It smells of washed-out dreams,
the fragrance of you and me.
There is a young chap at a place of work
Baby face with a stubbled chin
It is as if a man's face
has trapped a happy kid within.
The young fellow loves a cute young girl
Dainty, delicate, pretty like a rose
She doesn't speak to the baby-faced chap
does not let him come up close.
There is another girl sitting far away
her poetic eyes a mystery urn
She wonders what babyface likes
and how can she make his head turn
A bit further, is a lanky young chap
His eyes dancing, a smiling face
He loves the girl with the poetic eyes
His twinkling eyes, hiding his craze
Up in the skies, the angel sighs
Tired of these cross-wired flings
Droopy fingers and drowsy eyes
Slowly untangle the messed up strings.
She always spells my name wrong.
Deliberately? Probably.
Oh! she has done so all along.
Innocuously, possessively.
She calls me by a different name
Adds a pointless stammer
It is as if she is playing a game
of deliberate faulty grammar
I smile at my name, spelt wrong
laugh at the stammers and slips
to the world of wrong names I belong,
as long as it touches her lips.
A rickety table. Blue with white legs.
A red checkered tablecloth
creating small triangles on four sides.
A stray by the floor.
His eyes half sleepy, half expectant.
A bowl of peanuts, mostly broken.
To go with cheap local beer,
served in glasses used for
orange juice by the day.
Distant sound of waves, mixed with moist salty wind.
Sky a kaleidoscope of pink, fuchsia and grey
bidding adieu to the setting sun.
They sit in silence
nonchalance bred through years of familiarity.
Eyes vacant, lips closed
The evening has a single word
of conversation,
'CHEERS'
The screen lit up, it read 'You'
Promised a chat, long overdue
The meeting drawled, boring as hell
Was gonna lose you, I could tell
The buzzing stopped, I had missed
A chance... to have my ears kissed
-Piyu
