Jars of Moments

Your fingers trace memories on my spine,
Your shaded eyes a world of their own,
Clothes scattered along a faded palm line,
Belonging to a time long gone.

Words don't belong in this space,
Lit by rays of golden lazy light,
A space where my hair veils your face,
From the jumble of day and night.

Jars lay haphazardly in my cupboard,
Precious moments caught by my heart,
Jealously guarded, though absurd,
Afraid that stopped time will start.

Stars wink a hazy song,
The breeze kisses our bruised skin,
Time promised us forever and long,
Our marks tell a story that has been.

Love as a phrase is fickle,
Sighs encompass more within,
As do eyes with a teary trickle,
And a honey breath on your skin.

So I hold a small lilac jar close,
Smile at the present marching by,
The world fuzzy with dawn's dose,
Watching the sun-kissed bed where you lie.

Spongebob shoes

A little boy walked along the sidewalk. He wore a striped blue and white t-shirt, shorts and his favourite pair of Spongebob shoes. He held a vanilla ice-cream in one hand and zoomed along the pavement, pretending to be an aeroplane; weaving around people and a dog. He flew by, the ice-cream forgotten. There was a sudden screech of tyres and a flash of headlights...

The boy sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. His heart beat fast and he could see bright headlights every time he blinked.Warm hands covered his tiny ones. The boy looked up to meet his grandma's eyes, yelped in surprise and buried his head in her lap. She smiled a slow smile, a twinkle in her eye. He hadn't seen her for over a year and had missed her terribly. She pulled him closer, rocked him and hummed to him as he recounted his nightmare. Soon, he was chattering nineteen to the dozen, telling his grandma all that she'd missed out on since they last met.She smiled at him, tilted her head slightly and listened as he stumbled on words, left stories incomplete as he remembered others, ran out of breath a couple of times and gesticulated with his hands. When he finally declared that he'd left nothing out and that she should visit him more often so that he wouldn't have a hard time explaining exactly why the neighbourhood puppy wasn't small anymore, she hugged him and breathed in that unique smell of him and his shampoo. She'd really missed him too.
That day was meant for just the two of them and they did whatever the boy wanted to do. They spent the morning baking a cake with most of the batter all over the boy's face and hands, they chased each other around the house and took turns at scaring each other, they played with the garden hose, accused each other of cheating at cards and even had a pillow fight.
The day had gone by and they continued their friendly banter. She looked out at the fading light and decided that it was time. She took the boy's hand and began walking; he meekly followed. They walked through trees, on a path almost covered by moss. She watched him chase butterflies and they admired the patterns the setting sun and the leaves threw. It was a short walk but she didn't have the heart to walk any faster. They sat on a bench and shared a bar of chocolate.Then, she couldn't prolong it anymore.
They walked on and it was almost dark. She stopped suddenly; they'd finally reached.The boy's Spongebob shoes lay on the ground, right between two gravestones. One of the gravestones was much larger than the other and it dated back to over a year.

The Widow

The sheets were crumpled and warm. It was light outside, but just enough to make out the shape of the table across the room from her. She sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes, turned her head and looked at him as he lay fast asleep.She breathed in deep as her eyes raked the contours of his body, his arm thrown over his head, wandering over the muscles on his back. She reached out and lightly traced them, careful not to wake him up. He shifted slightly, but did not wake up.
She carefully disentangled herself from the sheets and saw flashes of the previous night as she searched for her clothes, trying not to bump into anything. But these flashes were a jumble of lights and shadows, of silk, of heels, of different scents, of softness, of heat and cold. They made her heady.
As she stepped out of the room, she looked back at the rugged young face. She was sure she would only remember the eyes in a couple of days and the memory of them too would fade, just like all the others. And then, she was gone, not even the whiff of her perfume left behind.
She was going back to her normal life; this being one of the many times she detoured to answer her urges. She thought of all the others before him, and smiled.
A black satin ribbon was tied on his wrist. He looked peaceful. He was found the next morning. 

Stirred

Calm the water
Cool the touch
Depth anew
I don't want to be stirred

Silence broken
Disturbance within
Calm the surface
I don't want to be stirred

The breeze blows
Pleasant?
Touches the water
I've been stirred

Warmth, nay hot
Bubbles, gurgling
And then silence
I will not be stirred 

Red Hair

Her red hair glinted in the sunlight
As it softly fell on her face and neck
It fanned out on the white bed
And shifted with a life of its own.
It threw shadows across her face
Her eyes shaded
She looked up at me
Through the strands
And in that one moment,
There was love.

Injustice

He looked up and shook his head; the colorful spots had returned. They played hide and seek on the white ceiling. Usually he would play their ever changing game for hours at a time, admiring the pretty shades they displayed. But, not this time. He looked away quickly and his eyes searched the room. It was late in the afternoon and the sunlight barely filtered in through the blinds. He soon found what he was looking for. A boy of about 7 crouched in the corner, he looked terrified and hid his face behind his knees. The 11 year old got out of bed and sighed heavily. It was as if he knew. He drew the younger boy closer and held him while the 7 year old cried and blubbered about how his uncle was a cruel cruel man.
He was 18 and he watched from the window as the 16 year old boy got beaten up for standing up against his uncle. When he walked out of the house, the older boy silently walked beside him; just that act strengthening the bruised and broken boy. He looked away and wiped the blood off his lip.
He was 24, the spots had returned, it was yet another day. Only this time, there were voices accompanying the colours. His 7 year old self held his hand and whispered a song while his 16 year old self told him that it was now his turn to heal; that he had done all he could to comfort his younger selves. His 20 year old self screamed out at the injustice of the blow on his head for reporting a murder he had witnessed 13 years ago and the frustration at his uncle still walking free.
The 24 year old blinked and drew in a deep breath. The ceiling was blue and he had a lot to say. He was out of a coma after 4 long years after all...

A Stream of Thought

When told to follow the stream of consciousness and write the lines of the poem as and when instructed, without being given much time for thought, this is what I came up with; or rather, my mind did.

In the starry sky hung the blue moon,
She looked up and sighed,
Tossed her hair and was in a swoon,
By the pool silent tears she cried.

He was gone forever and buried,
The ripples distorted her face,
In the dark, creatures scurried,
Memories; it was the place.

The graves stood tall; grey,
The breeze lilting and swaying,
A fine night in May,
A donkey in the distance braying.

A hand shot out of the ground,
And held her ankle tight,
She screamed, a heart-wrenching sound,
And she'd disappeared into the night.

A body soon followed the hand,
Mottled and falling apart,
All over shifted the sand,
And then fell over the cart.
Zombie Apocalypse!

Goosebumps

Do you sometimes feel like someone is standing right behind you? Like someone is looking at you?
Does it give you goosebumps?

It was late by the time I got home. It had been a busy day and all I wanted was a soak in my bathtub and to sink into my pillows. The night was cloudy, the moon shrouded. It made me fumble with my keys; they made the only sound in the empty street with it's ever flickering yellow street light. I was beginning to get that ever nagging feeling that someone was behind me as it took me a while to find the keyhole but, I'd never felt the need to rush into the enveloping darkness of my house and shut the door behind me just as quickly. Usually, I was more comfortable in the dark. That night, I was surprised to observe a quickening heartbeat. I leaned against the door to calm my unreasonable nerves. As I closed my eyes, I saw bright patches flash across my eyelids. "It must be my stomach craving for some food", I thought. I began to walk into the hallway and stumbled on the day's newspaper. I sighed, my day had been way longer than I'd hoped it would be.
I put the newspaper on the bed and ran hot water in the bath. As I sat down at the foot of the bed to take off my shoes, the picture on the front page caught my eye. It was a mangled car. I looked at it more carefully and observed that the last three numbers visible on the number plate matched mine. "Poor bloke", I thought.
The bathroom was quiet and the tub empty. I distinctly remembered turning the taps on. I felt a shadow cross to my left, I rapidly turned and was relieved to find the mirror. The relief turned to horror just as quickly...there was no reflection.
Ever get that nagging feeling that someone is right behind you?

Over the Edge

The edge of the precipice, that's where I stand
I look down, beyond my trembling hand
Over the edge, it's dark and bottomless
How did I ever get myself into this mess?

Vague memories; warmth and comfort, they flash
Getting here, to the edge, was a short dash
I'm alone now, there's nobody
The high, the fright, I'm giddy.

I keel over; free fall
I need an angel, to fix it all
A sudden ruffling of wings, I've been caught
I admire this apparition my mind has brought.

I stop at the face, that's all I can see
My personal angel; it's Me. 

The Other Girl

I was walking along a long winding path in the woods when I saw her; the other girl. She was a few feet away this time. I'd see her almost everyday, this girl. And she caught my eye every single time. The reason it was so was because she was all I could not be, all I wanted to be.
She had the perfect hair, the right length, curled just right. From this distance, her skin was flawless. She was confident and poised and, had this particular grace in her walk that I could never match. I was jealous.
Jealous of her popularity, jealous of the people she hung out with, jealous of her dressing sense....you name it.
She looked across the few feet at me. Her eyes seemed to mock me, seemed to laugh at the way I still was...inadequate and awkward. I had so much to do before I could be anywhere close to where she was.
She covered the distance between us fairly quickly, I lowered my eyes. Then I lowered my head.
I was ashamed. Ashamed of the way she could sing, ashamed of my fear of her, ashamed of being judged.
I rested my head against the cool mirror as I thought,
"She is all I could be and I am her".

Flight

I breathe in deep
it hurts, just like the breath before
and the many before that.
The pain hasn't dulled
nor have the memories faded.
But, now I see
I understand.
I decide to set you free
to set me free.
I forgive.
I breathe out
And then there's peace.

The Perfect Guy

There was a slight breeze. The sunlight fell across his face, the shadows of his perfect long eyelashes shaded his eyes. Those eyes, she'd always loved those brown eyes with darker rings around the irises. At this moment, they looked exquisite. She'd been too busy admiring those eyes to hear what he was saying.
"....I wish we could live together", he said. She looked away, "you know it's not possible". He put his cool hand over hers. She was surprised at the goosebumps rising over her flesh. "Even after all this time", she wondered. She smiled at him; he knew. He intertwined his fingers with hers, and pulled her closer. "Jaan", he said, "I love you....a lot!". And then he kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, and sighed. "I love you too", she whispered into his chest. He held her close and sniffed her hair, like he always did. She smiled, her ear against his chest, where she could hear his heartbeat. His grip around her tightened. She loved being this way.
"My Chipmunk", he said in her ear through clenched teeth. She was content just to stay this way.
She thought of the many conversations over the many months. She'd never been the mushy kind and the first sight of the "future talk" made her run away like a deer. But, he'd managed to break down her shell. She went over the future they had planned, some of it in a sort of a joke. He seemed to fervently believe in it. He'd planned his career and he'd said, light hearted, "Wait for me...just 7 more years, I'll build a house for you and we'll live abroad". "Mmmm...too long a wait", was always her reply. She knew that talking about all this would go nowhere, but she'd begun to believe in it too, in a future with him. They were so comfortable, that was what was best about them. Soon, they'd planned a couple of rooms, added a sauna and a jacuzzi, even planned the bedsheets they'd buy first.She wanted a huge aquarium in the room. He wanted her to design his room in the house his father was building in a couple of years too. It was mushy, it was too soon, it seemed right. They'd discussed all they could and felt way beyond their years. He seemed like the perfect guy.

She sighed again and burrowed deeper into his very protective arms, breathed in deep,took in the way he smelled like soap,deo, something of his own and his sweet breath. It was familiar and calmed her, made her feel closer to him."I'll ALWAYS be there for you...ma baby!", he said.

She opened her eyes, threw her hand across the bed and pulled the pillow closer.
He'd lied.
And they were the few of many lies.

Dear Heart

Heart,be still
The breeze lifts my hair
It goes through me
I can never have my fill.
Heart,slow your beat
My flush wears down
The breeze grows stronger
No longer facing the heat.
My shoulders square
My eyes close
Feel the sun warm
And the wind fair.
Shush!little heart;still be
Lift my chin
To the lilting tune
That from within begins
It's You,the Music and Me...

These Anomalies

White,red and grey
Their colour changes with age
Each has a different story
That begs to be told.
They are my friends
These little anomalies on my skin
They try to be inconspicuous,but fail
The pain has left, memory has dulled
They are reminders,yet friends
They helped,when they could
And now they're here forever
These Scars..