The sky has turned
Red with sunrise
Blue with sunshine
Grey with clouds
And purple with sunset
I saw the Sun moving
Between my temples
I know the clock hands
Have toiled their way
Through the seconds
I see the World going by
Yet, I remain immovable
Set in stone,
I am the Statue of Liberty.
Tag Archives: helpless
The sky has turned
It’s like going back in time
To the places you’ve been before
But this time they are bereft of people
Empty of action
Silent in words
And there I see the ghosts of our past
Walking down the cobbled alleys
I see them smiling, fighting, eating, drinking
It’s a yellow town
And a white lie
It’s a rocky coast
And a sea with salt from my eyes
It was the shortest of lives
And the deepest of all
To this place I will return
Without choice or effort
It’s here that I saw beyond myself
And fell into the abyss that you seem now
I might have clambered up the slippery walls
Into what the world believes is real. Practical.
My soul wanders the yellow town
Alone in the past.
I have your number and a phone without numbers to dial
I have your picture and an empty album
I have your voice and ears without their facility
I have your clothes and a body that fails to hold them
I have your breath and some skin that lies dead
I have your flowers and some stalks with prickly thorns
I have some tears and eyeballs that have dried up
I have more of my love and no more of your demands
I have myself and the knowing that you aren’t mine anymore
Why can’t I decide I’ve seen enough
Of life, never mind I’m just a laughable 23?
What ought to be looked forward to, but
The gradual happening of life…the movie
You wished would end, the pages you wished would
The sadism behind every living moment
When I submit to its whims: cry when Life deems fit
And laugh in between for comic relief;
Bear children who are unlikely to see me as anything
But their Indian brown version of the ‘White man’s burden’;
Share “moments” with another, who is set for
An all too similar fate.
And if Death were to favour him over me,
For all my desperate longing
What should I do? Or rather, what can I do?
I’d join the billions, wandering through
An accumulated loneliness,
That was once fervently hoped
To be never gathered.
But like dust, it has gathered over my memories
I would think after all those years
When I try to count using my fingers
The way I must have
Once upon a time.
While I searched for the right words
You decided I had nothing to say
I’ve found them today
Should I begin my search
For you now?
Fingers jabbed at air so rife
Fighting for space in
The tiny holes of an iron gate
Closed like a fist full of secrets.
Unseen faces and voices unheard
Drowned in their collective plea
For nothing more than a witness
To their deaths,
Having already forgotten how to
Hope for a rescue
In this teardrop nation,
Society was an innocence
That was first stranded, shelled and raped next
And finally shot, when nothing covered
Their naked souls.
Born exactly ninety days after you,
I am as old as you might be in a decade.