Skip to main content

Disoriented

6:00 AM - Alarm clock.
8:00 AM - Office calls.
1:00 PM - Lunch break
6:00 PM - Love awaits.
8:00 PM - Love departs.

A routine that we follow is named Love.
Difference? Is of a film to that of a theater.

How 'much' do you want?
One pound of flesh? no more, no less.
Or may be two stanzas full of four lines.

One will say the other betrayed,
The other will protest under another curtain.
If you can not find love
Inside the pauses,
After the lines,
Beyond the adjectives that die down
to yet another punctuation,
you haven't really felt love, have you?

And if you have,
still set the alarm clock to a time convenient,
You will never know
how time runs by and tide awaits
Where love lies dead but still pretends.

SoUmY@

Comments

Usha Pisharody said…
I meant to just read, savour, and tell you about it when i can really sit down and do so...:)

But this one would not let me be... I havent read the others, not now, when I dont have the time.. lol!

This is just too beautiful for words.. not just that love is there between the lines, in the story of life, but that we stil set time, and still forget those pauses, and the space between the lines...!

GOOD to see u back in the poetic world!! Am coming back ot this.. but for now, I sit replete:)

And thanks for the wishes...
Hope you had a good Christmas, and are enjoying the weekend :)

Catch up with you later..:)

Thanks Soumya!!!
Rukhiya said…
"One will say the other betrayed,
The other will protest under another curtain.
If you can not find love
Inside the pauses,
After the lines,
Beyond the adjectives that die down
to yet another punctuation,
you haven't really felt love, have you?"

Fantastic, as ever! Personally, the part about love awaits and love departs is too raw and hurting. Loved this!
Between the lines? Between the pauses? Not the deafening silence? The touching nothingness? The falsification of reality?Yet another pause to reflect?

Far from disoriented, its way of thought, way of hope.. Lets drink to it on new year eve. The best deserves the better :P (Connection was intended :P)
BirdBrain said…
di narration of love awaiting and love departing took my breath away!!
both emotions run so subtle..
Magic!
Anonymous said…
Wow! what an idea ! What a concept ! Beautiful .. Amazing …
Anonymous said…
Sorry for my bad english. Thank you so much for your good post. Your post helped me in my college assignment, If you can provide me more details please email me.

Popular posts from this blog

Untitled

You travel - Through unknown stations, passing empty paddy fields. over quiet rivers that rest beneath you. You bring a lot of earth along, And smell of mud, fish scales and trains.  You whisper and scream, Put your nails in me, occasionally call it love. Other nights, we make peace. Strangely at dawn, When the Sun rises and you see me sleeping,  I hear your whisper,  you travel ...   ... Deep inside me.

Together

I sit here to write An epic of love But words don't pay heed To my flowing senses. But what I write is about you. Who held the rain at her footsteps, Who could love the way Gothics shy And who can heal my scars Like I never had. And what I write is about me. Who drenched in the rain Like the raindrops, Who was loved the way He dreamt never. And who cried in the happiness beyond. So if ever the rain stops I would stand near you. If ever the scars anew I would feel your healing touch. If ever I don't sleep I would breathe you to sanity. On that rain soaked sands of Seashore And above the presence of lonesome moon, You would murmur the gentle song That I would echo in silence. And would pray, Somewhere,tiptoeing my wishes Dreams will rush up To another moment of blissful song offerings... SoUmY@

Untitled

Wish I could be a cloud one day I will love to be grey if its you To whom, through whom I traverse. Transparency is optimum; For I know you are unattainable like the sand escaping from the fist like the meaning assumed from the gist. look, oh yes, I can rhyme too. If you wish I can artify our world. Inspiration never needs a permit. You had asked, Why do I vomit blood. Interruptions in dreamy un-realism doesn't suit me. I know. So I write. So that I can breathe you in and breathe dreams out. Live long, you had wished. (Wished), did you? honestly? I will let it pass like just another Failed attempt to face reality Finds itself en-route to contamination. Oh! then what is pure? you may ask. Purity is not you, not me, but us. Purity is the way verses traverse. I will vomit to death one day. Do not pray for me. Pray for my poems who are quiet. Let them borrow my breaths. Let the poetry for us live. (And the footnotes conclude:) You - a miser in love Me - a happy lender. SoUmy@