Does it even matter?

Limited vocabulary
Implications abound
Convoluted logic
Absurd conclusions
Hyperboles thrive
Does it even matter?

Obscure catchphrases
Couched in metaphors
Impressions bedazzle
Meaningless jabber
Touting lost causes
Does it even matter?

A prophet astride
A mountain of lies
Pontificates on death and life
Frenzied oohs and ahs
By fawning followers blind
Does it even matter?

Whigmaleeries waddle
To snatch limelight
All eyes trained
On what is bright
Blinding common sense
Does it even matter?

Much maligned emotion
Treated as a deity
Worshippers bow
With saccharin sweetness
Diabetics all
Does it even matter?

Crisp words sacrificed
At the altar of fame
The verbose warbler
Spewing homilies
Captivates the vacuous
Does it even matter?

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चुप्पी/Silence

मैं व्यस्त तो नही, पर व्यस्तता का लबादा ओढ़ लेता हूँ,

दोस्तों से मिलने की चाहत को अकसर मैं छोड़ देता हूँ

तुम से बातें करना मैं दिल से चाहता हूँ

पर क्या करूँ, मन को मैं बस यूँही मसोस लेता हूँ।

यह नही कि मेरे पास वक्त नही है

न ही बात न करने की कोई वजह है

बस अपनी असलियत जाहिर होने से डरता हूँ

मैं चुपचाप तन्हाई से खुद को जोड़ लेता हूँ।

कहते हैं, यह साथ पल दो पल का है

जिंदगी का भरोसा न आज, न कल का है

मैं फिर भी कल के इंतजार में ही रहता हूँ

मैं न जाने क्यों आज को कल पर छोड़ देता हूँ।

अगर कल न आया, तो न जाने क्या हो

जो बात कहनी थी, वो न कह पाया, तो क्या हो

इसलिए आज मैं यह इकरार करता हूँ

मैं आज अपनी यह चुप्पी तोड़ लेता हूँ।

————————————————————-

I am not busy but often hide myself behind the cloak of busyness

Forgoing the desire to spend time with friends

I really want to spend time talking with you

But I don’t know what stops me from doing so!

It’s not that I don’t have time

Nor is there any reason not to talk

I think I am afraid to reveal my true feelings

So I prefer my own solitude!

One cannot remain together forever

Fleet footed life is ephemeral

But I still keep waiting for that tomorrow

Procrastinating everything waiting for that morrow!

But what if I never see another day

And never voice what I have to say

Thus it’s time for me to admit

‘Tis time for me to break my silence.

Coming soon…

From responding to prompts to hosting prompts seems like a natural progression. I have been hosting the Saturday prompt for the Ragtag Daily Prompt Community for the past eight weeks and have thoroughly enjoyed doing it.

So when Morgan of OctPoWriMo was looking for co-hosts, I jumped at the opportunity! There will be five of us writing for the prompts throughout October.

Dear friends, in two days OctPoWriMo will officially start and those of you who look forward to responding to prompts, earmark the month for writing daily. Sharpen your pencils/quills, flex your fingers or refill your inkpot and get ready to write, as Morgan says,”This year the theme is, Mining the Gold in the Shadows. Diving deep for our words to see where they will lead.”

I am sharing the link of the prompts so that you can plan accordingly.

http://www.octpowrimo.com/2019/09/octpowrimo-2019-count-down.html?m=1

Have fun!

Chameleon

Her magnanimous skin took to changes with equanimity

turning smooth as satin when caressed with passion

satiating with its burnishing glow

soft as butter when cuddled with affection

melting like her overflowing heart

its elastin expanding without a thought to the consequences

to accommodate a new life

accepting its orange peel feel with pride

turning hard as rhino’s hide when abused

cloaking her inner feelings

and not letting it cloud her clarity

never ever there any confusion

regarding the colours it had to don

the roles it had to play

a habit of a lifetime seeing it transition

from soft to hard, smooth to wrinkled

and sometimes black and blue

for it was meant only to give and expect nothing in return.

Loved

The space between my heartbeats was vacant for long

one could have filled a lifetime of longing in those gaps

I was afraid vapid and vacuous it would remain

in the dark, dank, dingy dungeon of despair

and in that inanimate state,

a fungus of self-loathing did sprout

but before it could feed on the decaying yearnings

things began to change

when your fingers filled the space between mine

our hearts melded to beat synchronously

closing and filling all the gaping gaps

flooding and suffusing my being with light

a drastic change from being loveless to be loved!

Marauding memories

Ominous dark reminiscences

flood menacingly the deep crevices of my mind

unlocking pain with one severe blow

I find shattered shards of happiness rising as flotsam

paralyzed I watch the serialized projection in slow motion

mocking tones and sarcastic jeers

angry and harshly loud words

tattoo mercilessly on my eardrums

I see a cowering me wrapping her arms tightly around herself

I still feel the serrated edges of separation like laceration on my skin

the real and close threat of past

to pulverize to pulp the serene present

jolts me to not remain a mere spectator

to this devilish dervish dance of destruction

I summon all the willpower I have

and banish the marauding memories

trying their utmost to purloin my contentment.

Drama of life

His debut on the stage of my life

despite the lack of any cues

was unmarked by errors,

fortuitous we would call it,

through missteps and different music

playing in our heads

we did manage to remain in sync

dancing impromptu and improvising

as we went along

our focus more on laughter than tears

fingers laced together to face all villians

threatening to change the story

believe me our chance together

would have been jeopardized

had we been handed a bound script to follow.

The fall

Keeping you a secret was

by far the most difficult thing for me

secretly stashing your incendiary notes in the spaghetti jar

beside the semolina jar in which mom stowed cash

secure in the knowledge

that mom would never see it

(she hated cooking spaghetti)

was such a thrill for me

your proclamations were passionate and daring

outlining your plans to change the world

mooney-eyed I followed your words with rapt attention

nothing was ever subtle about your beliefs

and I would have rebelled against myself

to inhabit the world you promised

the corpulent politician on the TV is a pale shadow

of the fiery young man I knew once

how the lofty ideas tumble!

You

You were always stubborn in your ways,

still are…

and though I have no clue where you are heading now

you are almost always there in my poetry!

when I sit down to write, you are nowhere in my thoughts

suddenly in the middle of a stanza

you jauntily step into a line, mocking me

sometimes tiptoeing between the lines, you wink at me

flabbergasted to see you there in my verses

I stop and push aside pen and paper

I don’t want you to inhabit my poems all the time!

there is a growing pile of incomplete poems

with half finished lines, blanks in between,

crossed out phrases and darkened words

exasperated and bemused I quit writing

but you do not give up easily

inciting words to knock against my ribcage

pushing them to fight for release

flooding my bloodstream with words

that bellow in my ears

making them incessantly clangour

causing an unremitting din in my head

I finally surrender to your persistence

and the ink drops splatter in form of words

leaving your indelible mark on my each verse.

To daughters

On the occasion of daughters’ day in India, I share the links of poems written for my daughter.

1. https://paeansunpluggedblog.wordpress.com/2016/03/13/my-daughter/

2. https://paeansunpluggedblog.wordpress.com/2016/03/14/my-daughter-take-2/

3. https://paeansunpluggedblog.wordpress.com/2017/06/23/my-daughter-is-growing-up/