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: time
The sky has turned
Are there days in your calendar
That are empty?
Are there thoughts so loud in your head
That refuse to let you sleep?
Are there lists with little check-boxes
That taunt you?
Are there hours and days and years
That were swallowed anonymously?
Are there others with lives and dreams and achievements
That make yours seem small?
Are there any traces of the child and the teenager
That you once were?
Are there ways to change the heart
That won’t wound you and bleed you to death?
Are there words within you, deep within you
That have forgotten how to be born through your hand?
Are you there anymore?
Do you exist?
There is little that survives Time
Long enough to see another day
But with the World so full
The little multiply into fake multitudes
And we believe the order’s never been disturbed
Maybe this was the order- that
Those that die, should die unnoticed
And those that get born
Should never know when to exit with grace
It’s a delusional Time
A morbid World
The clock on
Hands out each day
Punitive and molten
The hours inhume
So close to the surface…
Like blood that
Runs just beneath
Until the nights arrive
With their arsenal,
Banishing birds and
Light from skies.
While the world assumes its focal point to be someplace,
The real events unfurl elsewhere
In the peripheries of eyes, just round the corners
Pitched battles over pitchfork issues
Come to a close when the Sun’s gone behind the lantana bushes
To scorch ground and sinews on the otherside of an ending.
We think it’s over, when it hasn’t even begun;
We think we are dead, when we haven’t even been concieved;
We fear we are losing, when they haven’t even begun taunting;
We decide we are the ones moving, when the Earth turns one last time.
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.
Sifting through the silk screens
Her arms flailing to clear a path.
The unknown lie ahead
Like an oasis. A mirage.
Deluded as life itself.
She can hardly wait to meet them
She must beg Time to move faster
To let her pass.
To find closure.
To let her die,
The dark fluid left behind
A darker chamber
To traverse a ground so white and
Striped in blue
Swayed by an inconsistency that
Followed a set pattern
The fluid wrote the lines that
A world beyond its comprehension
Hailed as the poem on destiny
An elaborate design, to be understood