Words, to Read

Words leap out
From pages
I have not read;

Seek me, reach out
Softly settling on my skin.
Lost, I jump out of it-

When they touch.

Those are pages
I cannot read.
Anymore.
Why? Because they
Read themselves out?

No, no. No, no.
More, perhaps, because
I'm afraid
Of what it might
Take to read.

The undercurrents would
Drag me, drown me.

I shall be lost. Lost.
To Them.
I am already lost
With Them;
Just knowing they are there. 

What it would do-
Knowing Them
Is the risk I cannot take.

They're the fallen leaves.
On the road I cannot take.  

27 August, 2014
One of those "Class" writes. :)

Gridlines

Neat, clear, legible.

Shall I 
Contain my content
Within them?
Content. 
Content?
Doubts punctuate
The easy distribution
Of the sky of notions
Of clouds-
Storm gatherers.
The bubbling angst
Of liquid molten emotion.

Do I lock my universe
In a grid?
Or go-

Right off it.

Drop by determined drop.
Blur the lines
With my own es-scents.

And let the storm
Pour down
Wear down
Obliterate

That, which would 
Contain. 

Content?

Content. 

4 September 2014
(You guessed right - words spiralling out of control, from silence of an exam hall :) )

A Poem, Buried

It came to me
A poem.
Crept into my 
Sleep,
Surfaced in the 
Sub-conscious

Tantalizingly
Softly caressing
With a lover's touch.

I remember smiling
Then shushing it.
It faded.
(Slept on, with me!)

Then why did I feel
A heaviness
A hurt
Singeing, searing
Under my eyelids
When I woke?

Why do my eyes
Seek it?
Why do I feel 
That crushing
Sense of loss?

I buried a poem
In the soft loam
Of lost words.

Weary words that dropped
Overworked, but under-used
Heavy with nuance
Staggering, weighed with 
Too much meaning.

Lost thoughts, groping 
For expression
Mourn that poem.

Other poems come
Squeeze like tears 
Through ink
Asking to fill the void. 

I give them space
And try to flatter myself.
Attempt to smile
And live. 

In vain. 
For, it now comes to me.

I am that poem
I lost. 

22 September, 2014
Would you believe this crept through eyelids a few nights ago, and left; revisited during invigilation time, yesterday morning. Too nonsensical, surreal maybe. But a goosebumpy personal favourite for me, now.

Burn-ished

The promise of life.

Burnishes, glows
Grows
In you.

Ripe
Autumn coloured
Fullness flavoured
Still
Poised
All knowing.

Ready to dive
Maybe float?
Or Simply glide
Perhaps Soar?
Leaping like a flame
Rapture, into it!

Eventually settle
Claw
Into the Earth.

Merge
Nourish
Nurture

The promise of Life. 

19 September, 2014
(Watching that leaf, poised, on the Badam Tree opposite my class, while invigilating for an exam. The photographs were taken afterwards, in the evening when the campus was empty :) )