Why a Poet #8

Finding forever

In the middle of nowhere

Building eternities

From here to there

Throwing caution to the wind

Without a care

Writing my own truth

Even if it’s only a smear

A Cheshire cat’s grin

Is what I wear

I’m upto no good

This I solemnly swear.

To read the first seven features in the “Why a Poet” series, please click on the links below:

1. Why a Poet

2. Why a Poet #2

3. Why a Poet #3

4. Why a Poet #4

5. Why a Poet #5

6. Why a Poet #6

7. Why a Poet #7

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Cards on the Table

Not strangers yet

But lesser than what we were before

We’re hanging in the middle

Doing the age old dance

You have one foot out of the door

While I’ve placed all my bets

Is it politeness

Courtesy

Or

Chivalry

That lets you leave the cards on the table

Facing down

So I won’t have to see

The huge quantum of my loss

Or do you still have

An ace up your sleeve?

Do your conjuring trick, my dear

Don’t vanish this time round

Enchant me once more, my love

And never break the spell

Will you lift me up or run me into the ground

I guess only time will tell.

Funny Thing, Memory

Offer me your hand again

Clasp mine in yours

Tell me you’ll see me soon again

And smile

The smile

Which held all the promises of the world

The one which I recall every night

And cry

I’m glad you didn’t embrace me in your warmth

For there’d be no recovery

No moving on

Nor getting over

That inedible memory.

From Ink Onto Blood

Yesterday

I wrote

Thriving in your presence

An ode to love

And today

I write

Sinking in despair

An antidote to your absence

A balm to the pain

A salve to the hurt

An obliteration of memories

Yet you seep into

Every word

Flow out

With every thought

Hijack every feeling

Till I can no longer write

In ink

As my heart

Bleeds dry.

Matches and Candles

Some people are like matchsticks

Starting up with a dazzling light

Before flashing and burning down to nothing

A simmering pile of soot

A has been of a never was

And some

Are like candles

Slowly burning

With a subdued glow

Spreading warmth

Giving light

Melting themselves

For your sake

Yet, we let the dazzle

Blind us to the warmth

Probably why my heart is dank and cold today

Rather than a well lit, cosy abode

Strike a match again, will you?

And light up the wick?

There’s No Such Thing as Ghosts

“You know there’s no such thing as ghosts, right?” He said, when she told him she’s scared of watching horror movies because the scenes come back to her at night.

She nodded in mute assent. Acknowledging what was only logical.

Her mind, however, delved into a separate plane.

She wondered – what of the ghosts of memories that come back to haunt our every waking moment?

Or the phantom shards of broken promises that pierce through our very heart?

The spirit of a future, dead before it could even come alive, like an unborn child, but always a part of our existence?

She thought of the demons of jealousy, ego and pride residing within us, gnawing away at our very cores.

The fear of failure, draining away our life’s source.

But most of all

She thought

Of men and women who enter our lives and then leave a trail of destruction in their wake.

No, he’s right, she thought. There’s no such thing as otherworldly, undead ghosts. For they paled and faded away in the face of the monsters that live in this very world.

Hello my lovelies,

I tried something different with this piece. Still in two minds about it. Not sure if it conveys what it wanted to say. Would love to know if it resonates with you and what you feel about it. So please humour me, maybe, and drop a comment down below?

And as always, thank your for reading!

Love,

Varnika.

Heads you win, Tales I Love!

Go ahead and tell me again

How this was a bad idea

It’s nothing I haven’t heard before

Not once, not twice, not thrice

Every time I’ve tried to love

I’ve paid this heavy price

So push and shove

And set me aside

Or

Leap and jump

And show some faith

For I’m more than

Just a bad roll of dice.