Thursday, February 22, 2018
Writing
A blank page listens in silence at this midnight hour,
To capture whatever is left behind from humdrum days;
A few words in black ink are scattered on these pages,
When I think of the fire in your brazen quick eyes.
The words that are scattered on scores of white paper,
Tell a tale of what would have if, had we given a try,
To the loads of fairytales that were possible in life-
Just a shot to what might have been probable earlier.
Yet you need no words from me; your life has closure,
While mine remains centred around the memory of a gaze,
One that unsettled some promises from another millenium,
Some unwritten ellipses of memory and my fond melodies.
Two spheres in their orbits, we are two true fools in life,
Too bad to be on a big colourshow in identical colours.
Humdrum
The days have been so humdrum,
With blue sleepless hazy midnights
Words in blank ink scattered across
Scores of white scraps of paper.
You needed a few words from me,
Just to chase away the wild blues;
May be I was at a loss for words
With boundaries drawn around;
Now the colours are out on show,
In purple, indigo, green and white;
The shades of blue and black
Ink scattered on these blank pages.
The shades of blue and black
Ink scattered on these blank pages.
Two spheres in their orbits are
Two fools who can’t be fooled.
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