Saturday, March 15, 2008

understand.

who needs care ?
we have mannequins and superglue
and warped mirrors as an escape.
when there's foggy streets to dream up and dreams
that don't ever complain
of being confined to unavowed nooks of the attic ,
why pack the mind up in
heartshaped tinfoil?

ill sit through the show, laud your melodies
genuine.
never cut up
nor speak of the drought forming in my throat, ignore your
unwitting words
supply imaginary heartaches,
doves, balloons.
jazz up early summer afternoons
in case the sun hasn't grown bright enough
for your eyes, skin
and smile.

but don't speak to me
of love
before i've learnt to weep like a woman
in my sleep.

9 comments:

Lucid Darkness said...

Now this is brilliant.
Really.

Who needs anything when we have to walk away from what we crave for anyway, singing sombre dirges in mourning for a dream we weren't even aware we had?

I am touched by this, so much that I could actually choke.

littleblackstar said...

you know what? I was writing something along the very same lines today, but yours is brilliant and hence I wont write mine. :)

learning to weep like a woman is difficult, we always stain our cheeks... whereas living inside our heads is so darned easy!

The Misanthrope said...

if i were a poet i would have written you poetry...
but a poet needs pain enough
and i believe none of your razors and knives would make me cry
they will gratify
and hence i smile and fail to write poetry...

The Misanthrope said...

*sigh*

the harder i pull the stronger you bind...

ekta said...

"why pack the mind up in
heartshaped tinfoil?"

tinfoil seems the best word to me suddenly.thanks girl.

Darkling said...

wow i so luvd this visit to ur blog!!

akaash said...

superb.

*bows* girlie.

promise me to continue writing like this.. and i will somehow convince your principal to overlook the drawings that you made on the back of your answer scripts. [:D]

Saturnalia's Offspring said...

Pain.
Imaginary wordsactionsthoughts.
And the final silent tear.
Pain.

And you always pick the rightest words, every every every time.

little boxes said...

finally...i found your new blog.
this one's brilliant,kid.
the pain imagery is beautiful and the end is brilliant...