My eyes hide nothin– not stories, or pain, joy, or desire; Beneath the mop of wild hair, carefully tied in a ponytail is a head– unruly, practically insane, trying to peek out through the window of my eyes, hiding nothing; Yes, clearly the rains, stokes my imagination and my eyes light up, like smoking chimneys,over warm fire; And you? What else but the cool breeze, blowing in Through accidently open windows, adding flames to fire; I smile, tickled by the goose-bumps that sprout on my caramel skin, and you, play with a strand of hair curling and falling on my forehead;yet, I’ll be cruel, I’ll tuck the strand of hair behind my ear and I’ll push you out of my range of desire and shut the windows; Yes, all the windows that bespake of my honest madness and sleep,drenched, through the raging storm, both within and without

As the hammer hit, you smiled, victorious and walked

to claim me– demure and innocent, happy, feeling valuable

to be taken home by theboldest and highest bidder;

You stood me in that corner, on the landing, of

the staircase, alone and hesitant, mona lisasque,

not sure whether I should really, really break into a smile;

 a few years you cared, you polished, you dusted, you cleaned

and drew the curtains now and then to sun me,

and proudly displayed me to the visiting public

my stone heart melted but too soon dark despair set in

you wouldn’t care, you hurried past me on the way

to your office, without a smile or a nod, or a faint

acknowledgement of my presence and I wilted

I stood there in that corner, statuesque, bronzed and antique

Until one day you moved out, leaving me behind and

A new tenant moved in and he, went about re-decorating,

renovating, but he noticed me, apreciated perhaps for

he dusted the film of despair glazed over my eyes and

hung a mirror on the opposite wall, planted a money plant beside

And I looked at my reflection and felt,stirrings of life

And I awakened to a new dawn again, feeling strong inside,

Knowing the years had only added on value and

I need only weigh my worth, in that admirer’s eye

Who places a mirror in front of me and a living plant by my side

And says, “Look, you are as beautiful as you see with your eyes,

I can only provide the mirror for you to look inside and

 you are as alive as the green in your side,

I have put a plant beside you but you have to try”

I heard, I understood and I smiled.

A kitty full of delusions, illusions and hallucinations

I bring and they escape through a hole in my head

as poetry, don’t try to catch them and interpret

meaning out of it, they live momentary lives and die

in your dreams and fantasies; prisoners of emotions

they seek escape into the surreal skies, living parallel lives

they enter the throes of a stranger’s house and choose

a corner where they can sleep, cocooned in warmth and love

given without askance, as to why in the first place did they escape

or seek to be free, and whether they’ll stay forever or else

drill a hole again and escape into another’s dream, my poems

they seek no shelter, no understanding or acceptance, they seek

to rest a while, in the comforts of your mind , as they hop, skip, jump

and run their marathon over valleys, rivers and hills; but stranger,

you have been kind, you have given water to drink and even if

I reach the end of time I’ll remember your gift, you gave me a lap

to rest my mad, mad, little head filled with delusional poetry

This is one song that has me swayin, croonin and groovin. Sung at a leisurely pace and with lazy lyrics to match this one is for keeps. The image of a lady on the dance floor who knows her moves emerges and the man, admiring sometimes, sometimes a partner. Full of grace, this song is everything comfort between man and woman should be….sigh!





When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me

Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now

Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
You know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now

I have decided to post a few songs and poems that I really, really love or can deeply relate to and explain my stance with relation to it as long as I am on my sabbatical from poetry writing. Like I already said, earlier, it may not be all that beautiful but close to reality. So, here goes the first poem, which reflects the worst side of me—my laziness, my curse and my blessing. For the idleness alone, preserves my muse, from dimming away under the otherwise glaring spotlights of daily life. It is in my idleness that I roll in day-dreams and come up with my poetry muck. Yes, as you all know, an idle mind can also be a devil’s workshop. But many a days I want to go out there and achieve something, be counted for something, live outside the virtual world and be of importance to some who are needy and are looking for a spark of hope to light up their lives. Soon, very soon. Till then let me enjoy this poem by Elizabeth Alexander called “ Blues” which speaks of a lazy woman who was once an industrious child. Hope you enjoy too.

“BLUES”

P. S. And the last line is reflective of the magnanimity I feel towards life. 

goodbye