OUTSIDE MY WINDOW #WordsMatter

Spring has ended

this one

never returns

Autumn was painful

so much letting go

leaf by leaf

love shed

leaving me barren

Now an endless winter

a snowscaped

colorless misery

outside my window

- the last Juliet!

I received this tag from Shilpa Gupte at Fictionista It’s my pleasure to pass on this tag to Tulika at Obsessivemom There are 47 of us on this Blog Hop and it will be spread over 3 days – 2, 3, 4 August. Do follow the #WordsMatter Blog Hop and prepare to be surprised! 

In a city winter looking for a home

A dead pigeon
on the sidewalk
bare feet children
begging at the signal
destitution written large
on faces and souls

life's pathways
as complicated as
the routes of the metro

what ifs hanging
like half-constructed pillars
why? why not?
changing like traffic lights

Christmas lights, blinking at wealth
emptiness, deep, dark
and hope faint, cold

a shiver runs down the spine of
the silhouettes of tired trees

its cold
very cold,
winter is a state of mind

all knowing is frozen
love runs down
as a warm, salty liquid
from the eyes

the security guard looks
straight into the fire

we are all looking for home.


 

Soul Winter

Pic courtesy: Google images

its a thought smog
a haze
through which
life looks like a
faded silhouette

No gadgets or doctors
can determine
this blockage
of words

it could kill
a writer you know

the way
the simmering core
of a dormant volcano
eats its insides
till its all ashes

in a soul winter
the heart is a barren patch of pain
and spring is far behind.

Hometown

hills and fog
memories of
spring gone by
buried in the snow

flavours, fragrances
of youth
the decay and emptiness
of old age

the joy and
the ache
the bitter-sweet
the happy-sad
hometown.


 

Winter

the sun is
truant again
cold hearts
frozen hands

look for
love mittens
buried deep
in a corner
of memory closets !

A Winter Evening

The sun has poured
all its orange experience
into the open palms
of the evening

the dusk
is straightening
its sooty blanket
for the night

the stars
waiting in the wings
the clouds getting
the shades right

Fear and fog

A pinch of salt
is often the
pygmy courage
needed to make
the soul curry
flawlessly fearless.

just like one bright
ray of winter sun
to pierce the cold core
of the blind blankness
of days, nights and
afternoons famished
in the fogged fangs.

NOTES TO THE SUN

I
The old lady winter
looking for the ball of golden yarn
tossed afar in the skies.

II
The truant sun
hiding its smirk
behind the fog mittens

III
A tune in the head
the lyrics all mixed up with memories
why blame the sun !

IV

The world withers away

devoid of the warmth and the light

so that we know love is like sunshine !

LADY FOG

The summer lover
seems to have left
in haste

leaving her
icy cold
her pearl string
scattered all over
the flower bed

the drape of
her achromatic saree
haphazard

she sways
all night
as if still in
the trance
of the brief
autumn warmth.