Honored by Usha Ma'am & Rukhiya


>> Nov 17, 2010

What you call a black paper,
Is the one that awaits a white chalk,
I hold.
The thread between us is
like those small red crabs on
sea sands -
Quick feet, unsure,
still beautiful.

The scent in you is perpetual.
I peel the skin at nights.
Yours are like snakes' in winters.
They glow when I dip myself, into.

Somedays I burn.
I am like phosphorus(P).
And porous(:).
I try and contain you,
the whole of you in me.
You slid through as grains.
Helplessly, I emit at night.
There is no fire, you say.

I am incandescent.

I cry.
In happy and sad times,
my eyes fill up with saline water
that reflects moon, sharply.
You say, its childish,
We are role-reversed.
A man shouldn't cry that much.

Then, monthly expenditure of salt is mathed.
We agree that,
I will never write on a wet paper.

I break my promises,
far too often.


5 well-wishers:

Shal November 19, 2010 1:56 AM  

Dude i cant tell u enough
Ur suchhhhhhhh a brilliant writer.

loved this.

Ur poems make us live the poem not just read it.

Pravaas... November 23, 2010 9:22 PM  

Long live Soumya, Long live Poetry!

rainboy November 23, 2010 10:51 PM  

wow...lovely poetry :)
nice blog

Kalm-na November 24, 2010 8:19 AM  

U r just THE ONE!!! superb!

Usha Pisharody December 10, 2010 10:12 AM  

The imagery here is psychedelic! The visual blurs with the intensely tactile, and the emotive, intangible!

Shifting crabs, however beautiful they be, beautiful snakes, however cold they be, incandescent, phosphorescent, wet, saline...!

And with that comes the vulnerability of giving that can be crippling sometimes! Insecurity. Possessiveness. And the utter helplessness when you find yourself unable to wean yourself!

Mind-blowing imagery, truly so! Love this one too... for all the poignancy and angst it holds!

The Hungry Tide

Inspirations Continue...

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