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Moment’s enchantment
They’d offered themselves once
In entrancing rhyme and rhythm
Bunched in a covey of words
Encapsulating a fragrance peculiar
A tale in mysterious weave, they held
Offered themselves for capture and set
Yet dallied had I, pandering my indulgence
Postponing the poesy of a posy of words
Forsaking a pregnant now
For some anonymous future
Deemed opportune, yet unknown
And now they lay before me...those words
Complete, replete yet mysteriously dead
The fragrance lost in evanescent memories
The creator was not me, nor the words
But a moment’s enchantment, now lost
Such is the flow of life...
- Avi on an abhi* missed
*abhi – Hindi for ‘now’
Stepping out
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Off many an intellectual diatribe
Have I partaken
Ascertaining expertise
For experiences never had
Life’s adventure unfaced...unfazed
My fears parked at safe distance
Acclaim have I sought
Applaud please
My theories, theses abstruse
Oh what an expert I am!
Until silence overtook
And I learnt...
Many a wrong turns are worth the risk
Of intellectual high grounds lost
For a life in experiences lived
My opines pocketed in quietude
Forsaking the sawing of intellectual debate
Gingerly I stepped out...
- Abhi abhi
Play Me III
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Play me
forever I cried
let not my quiescence
go waste, these perforations
are not imperfections
but portals for play
even in desires
as I thrashed about
silence reigned
silence reined
silence rained
till in despair
I fell, smashed
in smithereens
the music within
released, tell me
did you hear
me play
my play?
- Abhi
Red
Were you to paint
With the colours of passion
Would they then suffuse
Through, permeate over your blues
Transmute through the purples
To stand out emblazoned
Strident blazing Red?
For the world’s but a mirror
And what on it you get to see
would make of you, what you could be
The resolve firmly cemented
The cheer forcefully in place
Many a can you bought
Many a can splashed in spree
Pray tell then, despite the smile
Glorious held, withheld
Why the emptiness in your heart
Why a void no colour fills...
For all the colours splashed
Why is it, that your step
Lacks the skip of zest?
Pray which truth of your own
Did you unmindfully trample?
Pray why are parts within dead?
While all that flows without, like blood
Of some truth murdered
Is red...strident blazing Red
- Abhi
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Wasteland
pic http://www.ualberta.ca/~earth/eureka.sand.dunes.html
Have you wandered the wasteland?
Ever skirted the edge of despair?
Ever moved into a dreary desert?
Bereft of crop endured the beauty
Of the vagabond sands seducing
Philandering winds, making mountains
For momentary play...
And through it all been lost
To have been found?
And know...that you can be found!
If you have sat secure, sinecure
You may shout out your directions
To be kidnapped by errant winds
But pray tell me, could you hold hands
And lead a lost soul home?
- Abhi abhi
Kindred
When there’s truth better left uninspected
There you offer the ritual of concern
When the way is the path less taken
Catastrophes you promise with abandon
The relationship we had for so long
Is today a receptacle to heap admonition
Do you grudge me the road I have taken?
Or do the cadavers of dreams sit heavy as a burden?
As I sit through dead monologues of ritual spiel
I’d like to leave, but I can’t...I feel how forlorn you burn
How I wish I could tell you, the dressings you address to me
Are meant for lacerations on you, which you can't discern
- Abhi abhi