Sepia

That would be the colour of my life.
Sepia. The pages I mean. 
The pages wrinkled, frayed around the edges.
Much thumbed. 
Vulnerable words hedging inwards.
Going back is a given. 
Living in what has been
Yearning for what would be.

Passion lurks, unbidden. 
Belonging, unwavering. 
Inconsolable grief, it form scabs,
Over healing wounds. Slowly.

You hold that book now.
Containing the pages of my life.
Do you see what I mean?
Those words, those lines-
Concealing more than meaning.

I wish I could edit them.
Those words, I mean. 
Find grace in simple stories
I once lived. 
I cannot touch them now, though. 
But of course. 

Still, the rainbow that my life is
Can never be muted:
Even if it be Sepia, in yours.

28 September 2012
Online
(Inspired entirely by the topic for Versification given at school, "Pages of my life" :D)

Other personal Sepia favourites:
Sepia Dreams
Beyond Sepia Dreams

The Unbearable Lightness... (due apologies to Milan Kundera :) )

The trembling within
Knowing, just across the room
You look at me
With smoky warm eyes
Radiating...
Oh! Oh my!
Why does it feel like
I'm mere molten mass?

It's like our fingers simply brushed
Walking alongside;
Whisper soft brushing,
A sleeve here, a wrist there
And fingers - Oh! Oh my!

And then we stop
Together - unplanned
Seemingly deliberately. 

The world fades
Into that poetic moment
That the mad crave
That delicate, perfect solitude.
Of us.

And I don't need more
Just the cloak of your arms-
As I do - you.
Toes touching
Wrapped in feeling feather soft 

And we become
This poem.

21 September 2012

(Mush and goo; blame it on a playlist that made it happen :D) 
And the icing was that wonderful link that Shilpa shared that says more than this write will!

http://www.buzzfeed.com/summeranne/the-50-most-romantic-photographs-of-all-time

Homeward Bound

Chugging past a distant memory
Of childhood fun and frolic
Playing in puddles, formed of mischief
Hiding under big banana leaves
From prying eyes of grown-ups!

An aeon hence I find that metaphor again
In the splatter of rain on my window
The blurred vision the yellow sign
Beckoning as it used to
Unhesitant in the welcome, in the warmth
That comforts this aching heart.

They said, you can never go home again.
But each raindrop I've met, since I left
Had a different story to tell - no, stories...
Of that time, when rain was life, 
Before Life came along, and rained responsibilities.

All it takes is this rain splattered window
And that blurred yellow sign
My heart, it sings, 
Revels in rain - and I know
I'm home again!

Inspired, entirely by a poem of a picture (as Govind has put it :) ) by Shail Mohan in the way she bent rules while receiving the Inspiring blogger award from Suranga Date :)

19 September, 2012
Online :)
(Picture courtesy, Shail Mohan )

Psst... another of Shail's wonderful photographs found a Haiku here... :) Or rather the Haiku came out of the photograph there... :)