To my Moonflower

And I will miss waking up and finding myself tangled in your curls for a change, been swimming in mine for far too long 

and then slipping into cotton fields where you are the white

And I the brown soil

The world asks in silent stares what is between us?

My smile tells them 

There is no room for anything in between 

There is only Us.

As I set out to fly away

You must know...

Ever fragrant when the moon shines, 

You are the moonflower

In our garden of love

Cause of chaos

You've successfully created a circle of chaos

and you are standing on the periphery

adding fuel to its viciousness

blowing secret ingredients into its momentum

you are there yet you are not colored

colored by the words flying around

the blackest blacks and the whitest whites

you still stand on the edge 

occasionally placing your pinky

in the movement

the creatures of your making

cringe

scream

laugh

judge

howl

cry

you still stand outside

with a sense of accomplishment

but you still can't tell

the noises from one another

you will never be able to

because you are still outside,

still the other

maybe a father,

but not the mother.

Wonder

Oh dear

I often wonder

what they mean when they say

'you are so well endowed ,

you must have been the Gods favorite'

I also wonder

what they mean when they say

'poor thing she is so little'

frail as an empty plastic tea cup 

fallen on the parched midnight pavement.

I wonder if the size of our breasts

are directly proportional to the men we will meet? ( if at all we want to even meet men!)

inversely proportional to the women we will be friends with?

They seem too needy dear and I just can't keep up with: 

chasing the hair off my knees

the sideburns on my cheeks

concealing the burnt marks of cigarettes and tears on my lips

the frizz in the hair 

the endless spots far from letting me be being tamil-brahmin-fair?

I wonder who set such moulds

I wonder why we should try to even fit

It isn't enough to just wonder

so I have most definitely stopped 

to

try

/ musings of a yatri /

These are facebook status updates on the go during my travels in Andhra Pradesh, India

/ poetry, won't you let me sleep? you burst into being and surround me as infants want their milk...now that you are conceived, I must feed you /

/ into this night, I blow away every memory of you hoping they would become one with the sand and hard to trace back to ever but when I walk back into the sandstorm they will come back and touch my ears and my toes and find their spaces back into me without me even knowing how / 

 / After a long night and a day of forgotten dreams as I returned back home, I saw you entangled in the dream catcher on my wall and I knew then who painted my dreams white and kissed my bruises purple and turned it to brown / 

/ oh night ! How do you paint me and turn me into the exact shade as you ? /

/ sinking into an abyss...becoming the abyss /

/ and this morning my nose was inspired. It ran like Bolt /

/ sometimes you dance in a known ignorance through the fire and look the silhouette smilingly in the eye hoping that the Light doesn't shine through and let the truth show itself / 

/ Barefeet, I can feel the breath of the earth and the fluid skies. They remind me, that just as them, I may be splashed across everywhere but still never too far from being a whole/

/ sitting in the dead of the night , body in shambles/ and a soul striving to put it's pieces together / I wonder what this journey is? I wonder where our Caravan lies hidden? / To be found by Us and taken into a dawn~New /

Rachamma speaks...

You are my dried flower petals, secretly pressed between the musty smelling pages of my being. Withering a little more, and smelling a little lesser of you and more of me ...

There is a beauty... In your secret smile, in your hands away from mine but just at the correct amount of distance, in your feet walking not beside mine but always close, in those eyes seeing without looking... In us just being without trying 

~ Being Rachamma in Hyderabad, 

Rachana / Ray ( a birthday gift by Soni )

Rachana / Ray

 Rachana

Was but a speck

A mood or a node

In the mind’s eye

Till desire gave way

To see me born

A short while,

A long wail

A beautiful picture.

I am here and yet . . .

 Ray

Today I write and wait

In the shadow of my words

For the clouds to merge

For the rain to pour

To wilt to nothing

Then the earth shall sow

Make love to my words

Their rhythms would conspire

My words would womb me

And I shall be born again

To write and wait

Me- 36 You 23 ~ ( written by a dear soul to me)

Me 36- You 23.

To meet under the shades of poetry

I chain my laughter to your brows

I steal your youth whilst you meet me

Me thirty six - you twenty three

Your mirror your world in words

I wage letters, trying to impress

They fall flat to your rhythms of honesty

Your head on my shoulders felt cold

My pages smart from jealous shame

I wish my spine would not wilt so

To write about butterflies, fighting reality  

To not know age, faith or passions neither

You thirty two - me sixty three

The weather changed, the words left me

I mocked your thoughts, you agreed

I attacked your vulnerability

I ran out to the world beyond

You, left behind in the shadow of words

Me sixteen - you twenty five

Many a chaos and curly locks i ran into

Many a lessons and letters exchanged

Alas! Hoping to find shades of you

In the words of those meant to not be

Me thirty six - you thirty

I drank life watching the waves recede

Not from the banks, but diving in

Finally drowned in the abyss of excess

The elixir of life was waiting in the pith

I drank you

In the shallows of the hallowed.

You thirty six – me twenty three