A shot of sunshine in my coffee
Like a piece of rainbow in my soul
A storm in my teacup
Rages before I’m whole
Life seems toasted
Like a mini marshmallow
Submerged in my cocoa
Put them all together and you’ll see
Beverages make me loco.
Dekha tha ek khwaab humne bhi magar
Sacchaiya raaste ka kaata ban gayi
Par hum dheeth chalte rahe thokar khaate khaate
Aur manzil khud-ba-khud humsafar ban gayi
In the best of cases
You’d be alive
Without victories under your belt
And feathers in your cap
Rich, for your experiences
Richer, for your successes
Richer still, for all your failures
Better now
Than when you started
Hopelessness’ despair
You’d have thwarted
So do it
Give it your all
Take life by the horns
Because
In the worst of cases
You’d be alive
With more than a breath left in you
I was making a list
Of some of my favourite things
And my pen leaked
A blob of royal blue ink
I watched as it spread
Forming a myriad of shades
Sometimes changing hues
And I realised
My most favourite thing
Is to observe what I see
And pen it down in poetry
So I may remember the mind’s complex mysteries
For all of eternity.
Are you aware of this blog’s running series on why one writes poetry?
No?
Fret not!
I’m popping the links down below and would love to hear what you think! Most of all, I await your own take on why poetry.
Love,
Varnika
Links:
Rumour has it
That illusions shatter
When faced with mirages of reality
I’m conflicted
When contrasting
Facts with whims and fantasy
So, If I stood
In front of a mirror
Will you share
Its reflection with me?
Sometimes in my mind
The heavens and earth collide
Like an explosive segue
Transitioning to a beautiful aftermath
And I see colours
And squiggles
Little dots and curls, a pot-pourried confetti
Sometimes
I even see
A rainbow-esque bridge
And when I walk on it
I know
That
A star is born
Quote me
To cover up
Some more of your lies
It’s alright
I’ll heal
As time flies
I’ll miss you
Once more
Before my love dies
Have you ever tango-ed
With a one-legged, pink flamingo?
Did you once Cha-Cha-Cha
With a turban clad Maharaja?
Did you dream of a waltz?
With one of the old Russian Tzars?
How about dreamy quadrilles
With a demure queen whose hair curled like tendrils?
And salsa, samba, rumba, zumba
Over beer, vodka, tequila and sangria
Have you ever mixed
A drink and a dance?
and swept royalty off its very feet?
No?
Oh, no!
But I have
and more
For I have words
and a pen
and a spare notebook
but most of all
I have thoughts
and a mind
Prone to flights of fancy
I have a story to tell today
A story of love
between a colour
and a texture
Together
They stole a million hearts
Their union causing
Many an agonised craving
Their fulfilment leading
To lingering sighs of satisfaction.
I have a story to tell today
A story of love
Gooey
Oozing
Lip smacking
Love
I call it
Red velvet
In the middle of the night
I lay here
Craving for some silvery moonlight
To illuminate the silhouette of your body
While you’re sleeping oblivious to my worry
Because last night the bed was empty
As you’d left in the evening over a fight
And yet
Something had held my hand really tight
As I lay here in the middle of the night
