ART

what does an artist do of pain
she dwells in his pain
she lives her pain of love
she lets the pain eat her
and when she is completely engulfed by the pain
she dips her brush in the paint of pain
and paints her most expressive agony
but the mortals call it art

                                       pakhi

"Art is to console those who are broken by life"   - Vincent Van Gogh

                                  BLAZES

  

they lit my village on fire

and I stared at the burning torches in their hands

wondering what drove them to this

why did they have to break me

I ran house to house home to home asking for help

asking for the water to suffice

was given water in glasses 

to put down a blaze meant for masses 

none came to help 

none came to rescue

all they did was watch

while my relations burned down to ashes

we were not the phoenix to rise

all of me died somewhere in cinder

the villagers laughed

and I thought they were mine

in the end

I stared at the burning torches in their hands

wondering wasn't the torch in my hand

why didn't I start the fire  

                                                    pakhi

                                  ANGER

 Hello

No poems today but just a random topic I would like to talk about.

I am not trying to validate anger in any manner, but I believe that anger is a small part of us loving ourselves. When exposed to a situation where we are not treated the way we know we should be ur mind shows ANGER. It is us trying to speak for ourselves and be our own voice.  Anger is an intense emotional reaction to stimuli that threatens us or hurts us.

I completely agree that anger is not a good way to express but I also believe that speaking up and owning up to what you wish and desire is a part of self-acceptance. Swallowing it or adjusting to the situation is a good method to FIT IN but not always the right method. We must be a little selfish when it comes to caring for ourselves.

To  pour the love and happiness you hold first we must pour the same warmth on ourselves. Anger for me is a self-defence mechanism for when you have reached your saturation point. Not physically or verbally abusing anybody else but at the same time being clear on where you stand and what is accepted by you.

pakhi 

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                       WE WERE  THE STRAY

you were my vandalised victory

now a hallucinating history

I see in you places

the mosaic of your pieces

I feel you in my veins 

every time it rains

my lips tremble

when your name fumbles

you have left evinces of yourself

the seeds you planted

now grow in me

and I water them every day 

 

 All our memories are a blur

the blacks mixed with whites

with yellows and blues splashing on them

we were melancholy wrapped in life

we were the stray 

in universe of homes 

                                                      pakhi

                                CHINGU

I met you when I was two 

I have been playing and dancing with you

you bring out the best in me 

you just let me be

you are crazy

but I like that

we are mad 

but we are like that

people say you are shy 

I don't get why

you are wild you are fire

you burn it up

went through blood  sweat and tears

fought our fears

been through thick and thin

fought together the storms within

the slap incident 

is still fresh in my mind

like it was yesterday

my memory has it intertwined

Grateful I found you

cuz you make it right

you make me beam bright 

found my vmin in you

                                    pakhi

 

                                                         HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE 

ECSTACY

                               ECSTACY 

she hast been reading the same book for months

trying to find life in those dead words

looking for shelter in those false lines

second chances!! they say 

ergo picked up another book by the author

endeavour another chapter

still, the words are lifeless 

the lines are pretentious

the pages are yellow and worn

opening the wounds that were once torn

thew words have blurred out 

the lines have begun to fade away at this point 

 hiding behind the words

finding comfort in those sentences

just complicated long conspicuous words

they all tangled for her to read

                                                        she is trapped in the ecstasy

                                                                                                             

                                                                                pakhi

Inspired from:  When We Collided; By Emery Lord

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                 REMEMBER THAT NIGHT...

the night was dark and dense

a single star  whirled around the moon

the moon smirked behind the clouds

the clouds played with the wind

the wind blew through my hair

it swayed beneath your feet

I was captivated by its beauty 

you are intimated by its density

I was on cloud 9

you were wrapped up in twine

you said the darkness eats you 

but I thrive on it 

we gawked the same sky

with different eye

we gaped the same moon 

with different boons

                                   pakhi

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THYSLEF

                               THYSELF

you asked me to describe  myself 

I thought and thought and thought how I see thyself

I fell short of words

had phrases curled up in herds

I looked at the mirror for inspiration 

just saw rays of aberration

an undefined body

trying hard to fit in the box of a toady

looked at the water for a reflection

saw a scattering wave of projection

gaped  at the sky for a sign

but the stars did not align

elements nor words could I find to describe myself

and I thought and thought and thought how I see thyself     

                                                                                       pakhi

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                                CROWDS

standing in  crowds

I like to read people

with lips hiding tears 

eyes carrying smiles

People here carry stories

every scar on them holds a memory

and I want to know them all

I wanna see them all 

call me eccentric

but the eccentricities carry tales

some hurt

some  laugh

but we live it all

people hold 

eccentricities in corners of their hearts  

with hopes wishes and memories old

they cannot tear apart

                               pakhi

 

I like to see people as walking stories. Every person carries memories and adventures. irrespective of age we all carry tales, some we decide to share some we decide to shove past us. Some tales our lived to laugh with our friends and some tales our lived to embarrass you.  Start viewing people as fables and you will fall in love with all of them.

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                                     ICE

I don't mean to scare you

but I carry winter in my bones

and when the winter burns

the glaciers in me groan

when the ice thickens

it forms layers on my heart

for which I spend days to shove

carefully removing  every coat

there is beauty in the ice of me

the frost on my lashes shine in the breeze

and on the frozen lake of my love

you skate smoothly 

feeling every move gracefully

but when push comes to shove

you choose to leave

and the blizzard hits

the storm strikes

the rime of me fights to keep  alive

                                                                 pakhi  

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                                     2 AM

it's 2AM I am standing at my window 

gaping at the moon 

sometimes  mesmerized by its beauty

somedays its bright  exasperates me 

Its 2AM music playing in my room

I am all alone 

the beats dance in my veins

the lyrics find cushions in my head

Its 2AM a book in my hand

I am living another life

the emotions they feel

the days they live

Its 2AM a soft breeze whispers the enigma  

I goggle at the road

a single car passing by with eerie ease

the silence is heavenly

Its 2AM a single light lights in stillness

stillness in breath 

a past in yesterday 

a future today

Its 2AM my eyes drenched in sleep

I draw the curtains

stop the music

close the book 

switch off the light

and drift off to sleep 

                                        pakhi  

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