Amnesic Anecdotes Scented in Caffeine

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(i)

tongue scalded
by an absent-minded sip
I bit back both cry and curse,
and gulped down brew
both unsweetened and angry,
aroma rising with
steaming plumes to flavor
a surreal moment
gestating with tension
and anticipation witnessed
by demitasse fragilities,
when two individuals
talked nuptial affiliations
over coffee~
trying to forge a relation
between strangers
who remained as such.

 

(ii)

Cramming unseen chapters
from unfamiliar volumes~
never cajoled in
careless overconfidence,
on the night before final tests,
befriended by adrenaline
and caffeine in overdose,
left eyes red-rimmed,
pulse racing to compete with
electric shuttle or rocket launcher,
mind like scrambled eggs,
fireflies within my rib-cage
~fluttering and burning,
while I blankly stared
at questions refusing
to be answered.

 

(iii)

Within my pocket
were some crumpled notes
and wilted longings,
after a weekend of splurging
I could ill afford,
yet a glow-sign beckoned
with aromatic promise,
‘Madras Café’
and I entered to lavish
the last of my money
for a taste of famous filter coffee,
made from fresh beans,
unlike its instant cousin,
insipid and limpid.

 

(iv)

Forced to drink
an obnoxious excuse
pantomiming as coffee,
pouring from faceless machine
in coughed out measly dribbles
to rejuvenate
tired sighs of routine drudgery,
I oft carried pouches
of coffee granules
to polish tarnished smiles
and erase lethargy’s shadows,
unable to stomach
the free tasteless brew offered
in the guise of coffee.

 

(v)

Over shared
coffee and camaraderie,
on a soggy monsoon evening,
we relived memories
of another time and place,
within a bubble of oblivion
nostalgia adding a glimmer
to echoing laughter,
as new memories
were formed to embellish
a dishwater existence.

I bought a broken song…

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I bought a song for the silent coin

in my pocket with no kin to

make its jingles with,

~ a wilted, stilted number

with a faded whimsy in its soul,

like autumn’s bronzed whisper

or a dove’s withered feather–

orphaned and forgotten,

dreaming of cloud-kissed flights.

 

It ailed with amnesia,

its lyrics like sepia reminiscences

of an octogenarian,

the words ambiguous, illegible

~letters written

on frosted windows in winter,

or pictures finger sketched

on wet ocean sands.

 

Its tune was an echo~

soft and tired,

after meandering through

the glens leading nowhere,

lingering on tongue’s tip

but too elusive to be voiced,

yet adamant enough

to refuse being recalled.

 

I tried to fill my sullen silences

with its somewhat rancid sweetness,

trying to hum its tattered lines

its vacuous pauses filled

with patch-worked words,

but meaning was lost

leaving minutes stained in

softly crooned gibberish.

 

I sang it with

a self-concocted panache,

as a lullaby to put worries to sleep,

make eyes of insomnia droop,

but the moon and stars

joined in the stilted chorus

to compose a nocturne,

eulogizing the night.

 

I gifted it to my beloved,

sprinkling flowery wording,

to adorn its sparse realms

filling colors of romance within

the insipid lines,

it blossomed with fragrance,

reincarnated as

the symphony of our love.

Life of a Flower

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flowers smile in
the cascading sunshine
of volatile gold
and weep dewdrops
under night’s facade
of moonlit oblivion,

they droop at dusk
when the daylight begins
to fade and clouds express
their thoughts of adieu
by masquerading as
versicolor christmas flyers.

swaying to rhapsody
of the redolent zephyr,
they wink flirtatiously at
dainty butterflies and moths,
and sigh with envy
at glowing array of fireflies.

withering away
after a fragrant spell on verdure,
the flowers leave behind
a acerbic fruit of rawness
to ripen on boughs of life,
while the petal fall over earth
in a scented breath of devotion,
gradually mingling in humus.

flowers are alive
needing water and sunshine,
they have sentiments
responding to care and tenderness
their scented breaths
of affection wafting in wind,
are eulogies scribed in
appreciation of nature…

Within Realms of a Dream

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within surreal dream,
my consciousness floats
dangling between
reality and fantasy as
a pendulum in sway,
life seems a fleeting array
of distorted images
etched by imagination,
as opaque becomes abstract
transparency is misted
by the dewdrops of fancy.

in chimerical avenues
of distorted misconceptions,
the mind sojourns
confounded entirely by
hallucinations and delusions,
warding away into the straits
of labyrinthine catacombs,
away from banks of
a flagrant, vibrant reality.

a nascent sliver of reality
lingers on the gossamer visage
of fluorescent surrealism,
and clawing at this straw
consciousness seeks in vain to
emerge from procellous realms
of grotesque nightmare
of schizophrenia…

Untitled Vignettes of Morning

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(i)
sigh of verdant song
of spring reflected
in sparkling visage
of morning dew,
is like naive whisper
of a juvenile dream
yet to unfurl
its chatreuse realms
to mandarin sun.

(ii)

a sleepy bay
stretches lazy limbs
at dawn to erase
lingering kohl of insomnia
from vision of melting moon,
painting the sky’s complacence
in tangering moods
of cider-lorn fall.

(iii)

silver epistles are scribbled
on transparencies
of window’s intrigue,
in braille of beaded frost
as a prelude to
snowclad sublime of
an introverted january morn.

(iv)

cerulean fingers
of brine wriggle
in delighted anticipation,
eagerly rising and falling to
try and touch
the distant skies,
splashing sun’s frowns
in wistful fluidities.

Nascent Motherhood

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baby in the womb

Within amber realms
of anonymity and ambiguity,
lost in slumber of innocence
a soul awaits
the moment of discovery
of life’s versatilities and intrigue.

a tiny heart pulsates
like the dialogue
of clock’s garrulous hands,

while tiny hands and feet
curled as petals in a calyx
flutter at times to etch
tired smiles of maternal bliss,
making her yearn
for that bittersweet moment
of burgeoning anticipation.

crocheting dreams
on loom of complacent insomnia,
she speaks to the one
who swims within enceinte contours,
crooning lullabies
and sharing thoughts and feelings,

aware that the hour looms
when these umbilical ties
would be severed to
gather a new dimension
as a part of her body and soul
finds the angel wings of life…

womb

 

Kick of Candy

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baby in womb

Sailing within realms
of amniotic complacence
while anxieties soared outside
like moods of barometric mercury,
you were seemingly
too lazy to bother with
a breast or butterfly stroke
inside aureate fluidities,
while I eagerly awaited
that softly knocked greeting
which’d strum a caramel rain-song
on frowning lips of worry.

stock-footage-human-baby-in-mother-s-womb

Palms cold and clammy,
sought to feel the faintest of moves
tracing enceinte contours,
as murmured prayer was
whispered in ears of taut silence,
brine filled eyes
refused to shed tears lest they
be a harbinger of ill omen,
the clocks tick tattooed drum beats
as apprehension mounted
and anxious limbs sped towards
alleys of recourse or remedy.

baby-moving-inside-womb

The echo of heart beat
was placating and musical sounding
through maze of inanimate wires,
as a hesitant smile dawned
reminiscent of crescent moon
on tempestuous night-skies,
reassuring, professional words revealed
your innocent mischief

baby_foot

and with no bitter pills to swallow
sucking a proffered éclairs
and pockets full of chocolate I returned
with you now apparently
riding an imagined bicycle inside
revitalized to spurn lethargy
after the sumptuous kick of candy.

Pregnant-woman-eating-chocolate

baby_kick