SLEEP.

Rolling on the stomach,

Palms tucked on the chest.

To hold the heart from falling,

To save a ruptured chest.

The desire to jump out,

Breathe scent of the air.

To stretch arms of laziness,

Outside the cage of despair.

To ponder unasked questions,

To keep sleep, waiting and awake.

To make a thread of thoughts,

For unfulfillment’s sake.

To cry, not out of pain,

But just to know we can.

Comfort that our heart is good,

Intend no harm if we ran.

And just when sleep is tired of waiting,

It pulls over the blanket.

Gathers all dirt of our brain,

And stuffs it in his pocket.

Morning when I wake,

My tears are all dry.

My worries all waned,

And smiling, sleep waves good bye.

                                                                …Shiv.

I like it when it rains,

Trees hide under their tiny green umbrellas,

While grasses spread their arms,

To welcome the drops into warm earth.

The wind takes the chill of the drops,

That rupture the scent bottles of the earth.

The fragrance envied by flowers,

But their stems dance in mirth.

Misty looks the day,

Mighty sun coats away.

Clouds come down to get wet,

Eagles gaze from high away.

Birds meet up to chat,

Share towels on the tree.

They need to dry their wings,

And talk of flight against the wind.

The rivers and lakes,

Set their buckets straight,

And waves along the shore,

Hits with all its weight.

Love just springs from air,

And wraps all within.

Passion drips from eyes,

And blood runs akin.

And rain just drenches all,

Hide within or without.

It just merrily falls,

Rekindling all about.

The sun just waits in desire,

For rain to finish the dance,

The clouds to come up and dry,

For sight of the earth’ shine.

                                                              …Shiv.

Why did you have to cut the string?

It had my clothes drying on it.

It had your smell on it,

I wore it by night.

Where is the bed sheet?

Our crumpled giggles tucked under mattress.

The only company,

To our night long chats.

I hated the pillow; you insisted it to be pink,

But it smelt of lilies; of your hair.

Seen kisses between fights,

It has moles of our tears.

The blanket under which,

We picked stars as yours and mine.

And chose a place to be together there,

When done here with our time.

The closets have locked themselves up,

They say you have the key.

What do I do with the bunch I have?

The door wouldn’t answer, I can’t even unlock me.

The tea doesn’t taste warm enough,

It tastes cold as death.

The stove doesn’t light,

It lacks the passion to burn.

I see through the window of life,

And find myself stranded in.

Why have your fingers grown so stiff?

For strength, my fingers can’t grip in.

I don’t have anything left of you,

Just memories, even that have turned grey.

You didn’t have to cut the string my dear,

My clothes still lie astray.

                                                                          …Shiv.

I want to dance,

To the rhythm of the silence.

Silence of someone’ presence,

The melody of the breath.

In the light of the eyes,

I want my feet to tap at every thought.

I want to grip the arm of the moment,

And swing with it.

Smell the neck of my desire,

With a tinge of sweat, of vigour.

Hold the waist of my dreams,

Just tug it closer, to me, my heart.

Feel the warmth of the presence,

Of someone immaterial, omnipresent.

Dance on the stage of its eye,

As it sees me naked, desire less,

burnt, charred, still red, burning.

Wreck myself, shatter my knees,

Dance to every breath and thought of it,

Relentless fire, taming the sun god,

Shatter the earth by the weight of my anger.

I want its eyes to water,

So much to calm me down.

But I wont, coz I love it so much,
and i want it to be known.

I want to stare, deep into its eyes,

To see the hidden lies, the untold truth.

Coz it keeps me from my love,

It keeps me away from me.

I want my heart to belch,

To break open and leap,

From the cage of my heart,

At the tip of its feet.

Standing in the corner,

Watching me burn from within deep,

Atleast then;

Atleast then, silence would speak.

                                                           ...Shiv. 

A moment dropped

Last night in the dark,

A moment just slipped off my hand,

my eyes rolled off to my finger tips,
and scourged the parched land.

I ran to the sun for help,

But its door was closed; locked.

I made my way up the window,

But his lights were off, he was sleep soaked.

I stood at the window,

Hoping it to rise,

But it was too early in the night,

I just left a tear by his bed side.

On my way back,

I saw the waves rushing to the coast,

Clearing the mess made by day,

Coz its the only time alone, its crowded by day.

I reached the lawn,

Where I dropped my moment,

hoping the birds would sing,

for the sun to wake any moment.

I tried making a bunch of stars,

To make a sun for night.

But they were too tiny and pricky,

And often fell off my hand.

I tried making a bunch all night,

And they often vanished my sight.

I worked blinded by my desire,

And they just played all night.

And then I saw a flock of servants,

Flying east to pull the sun up,

And there he came stretching his arms,

And smiling along as he came.

I pounced and searched the grass again,

To find my moment again.

But the dew had washed the moment away,

The sun rise was just in vain.

I still hate the sun,

For not staying at night.

I still look for that moment,

I dropped in the grass one night.

                                                                …Shiv.

A truck load of dreams,

A lifetime not enough.

reach the top of the world,

peaks not high enough.

Want to fly high,

Just wings not enough.

A fresh life of fragrance,

Flowers too shy off.

A shower of warm love,

A waterfall not enough.

A swim in the wilderness,

Oceans not enough.

for a song of heart,

Words not enough.

Thirst of the eyes,

Beauty not enough.

A breath for life,

Air just not enough.

Grip the time,

Two palms not enough.

For a peaceful sleep,

night just not enough.

For a serene death,

Life, just not enough.

                                    ...Shiv.

One usual evening,

Sun not yet set.

lit up windows,

floating in the air.

Trees reaching out their arms,

To grip the sky.

To pull over the blanket,

From horizon to up high.

Lying on such a floating,

But unlit window,

I found a key.

The key to the closet of my thoughts.

I thought of all that scattered,

On the floor of time,

And all that well stacked,

On the memory shelves.

The lamp of wisdom,

That flickered more often than not.

Bottles of smiles, loaf of pranks.

And the book of stupidity.

The chair of serene peace,

the couch of warm friends.

Tea poi of promises,

With cups of everlasting trust.

Wardrobe of warm happy suits,

A few thrown lonely socks.

T-shirts of jokes and quotes,

The ever growing pants.

The drawer filled,

With fragrance of love.

A small kerchief of tears,

An album of colourful moments.

A pen missing,

The pen of present.

Tucked in my pocket,

Use it to fill the closet.

I smiled, and placed the key back,

On the unlit floating window.

The trees rested their stretched arms,

They had pulled the blanket over.

                                                         …Shiv.