Art&Poetry

SAnds of  TiMe
sands-of-time

Take a handful of sand or pure water,
time pokes like a needle to a balloon.
Then comes the subtle reminder
that life goes on.
And the key is to keep learning.
Tread on those bumpy roads.
Get on that rickety bus.
Get acquainted with it, with those
remnants of growth.
You see, part of learning
is also getting it wrong.

 

wOrtH

womanhood

be a woman who knows her voice

her lip color
her style
and her worth.

eTernitY

bleak-hope

                               It takes time to create this love that can last, not forever but till eternity.

                   Because forever just sounds like waves that only teases the shore and goes back to the ocean.

                  Well, eternity? It’s like those stars in the sky.

                   Luminous, and infinite. Only visible to bare eyes during the night.

                   Bare your soul and the stars stare right back at you.

                  To love, and then to be loved, without conditions, till eternity.

                   Isn’t that all we wish for?

 

bRokennesS

brokenness

                        Brokenness is beautiful. But you don’t have to stay broken.

                Pick yourself up while you still lie fallen

                Pick up those scattered pieces while you still bleed,

                wipe your blood, and still get on with it

                accept this innate reality of life

                 and the ways of the world

                 that not everyone is as gentle and tender hearted as you

                 not everyone is as beautiful as you

                 but that’s okay, because life is still good

                 Harbour that quite resolute

                because you know what

                that surpasses all the beautiful things – a strong spirit.

 

lovE

kill-for-love

Pour me a cup of strength
for the soul to heal
and if you ask for more
Ask for depth
Edged with love and more soul.

 

 

 pAiN
lovers-stroke

 

Pain is like those strands of hair you keep tying back into a bun of hope,

it keeps falling and leaves you unkempt.

But isn’t it more beautiful to leave it as it is,

in its natural state,

without effort and trials,

to just observe how it looks towards the end?

 

bIzarrE

 

numb

 

I find this ridiculous,
this thing called life where
people in buildings worry about bills,
and those in huts worry about the bread.
The calculation, strategy and self-interest 
that come before selflessness.

     We got it all wrong,
we got this all screwed up.

             And then an orange head (read: Trump) is rearing to rule the world.
Hand me some weed now
or help me weed out with this epidemic that is the rotten mindset.

This thing called life, sigh,
and the struggle to not reduce it to bills and bank balance.

 Maybe,
maybe we could fill it with more brilliance,
more than those envelopes that are slipped under our doors
more care for neighbors than the network

more moments to remember?
What is life otherwise?

 

 

                 mAtE

It was her ‘birthday’
but she wore his ‘suit.’