Desolation, Vai B. Charm [bts book recommendations TXT] π
- Author: Vai B. Charm
Book online Β«Desolation, Vai B. Charm [bts book recommendations TXT] πΒ». Author Vai B. Charm
'Ami tomake bhalo bashi.'
While you slowly skid away, socks on feet
sliding away from me.
Looking for your shoes, a human need.
Between us
There's a table between us
I look at your face, so ordinary
but I keep looking
I wish to find the grief your words pour in my ears every night
yesterday we both cried inside
after the phone call twenty waves deposited hundred grains of sand on the beach
how do I know this?
the same way my mother knows your name
My mother is always cautious of my friends
acquaintances I make everyday
are her nightmares as she has seen me crying over broken bonds
she is curious to know how far have we gone
yesterday...
all this past has made me heavy
like rivers at the end of their journey
I am filled with old metaphors
till the brim of my throat
and words leak out of my eyes now and then
but in no words I can assure her
that thorns how so ever beautifully put
are discarded once they prick the keeper's fingers
that tongues are lethal objects outside kissing
that every nail on the fingers of your hand is an artefact
that my feet are full of nerves knotted from walking behind you
that you walk too fast for me to follow
red in my hand, is a danger symbol
I am sitting on my bed, and pray it to pull me in
I wish to dissolve in thin air
or to be sublimated like dry ice
my god has slept long ago
and my prayers aren't reaching him
his cell phone is off
and he is out of coverage area
today I wept while looking at a pile of candies
somebody saw their lover die in their arms
and ate grief with a metaphor of two synchronised clocks
your scent still lingers at the back of my mind
and I still remember all the colours you draped yourself in
I can't grieve, because they shouldn't know you ever
every sigh is a train to the unreachable station
/I still try to taste you in the back of my throat, but there are old pages stuffed there, with ink scattered around/
Photograph
Inside a photograph I go
to travel to lands faraway
to find frozen memories
and smiles hard
harder than I thought them to be
breaking like mud cakes
with cracks due to heat of the sun
time ruining polaroids
for one is the curse to another
my vision unclear
fog and smoke gathers on my glasses
I struggle to see
cold and harsh words float
in my dreams
I see you
laughing
with that voice of chasms
water running in a creek
smashing against rocks
moving pebbles on the shallow bed
my feet dipped in
cold water washes up to my ankles
where mother tied black threads
to save me from you
the love she sees as a problem
and warns me against you
one after another thoughts
come running, shrieking
like the old coal engine
which pulled the trains
when railroads pulled us apart
and we found warmth in beds with another
and in searching for your face
I touched the other faces with love
and time passed ruining polaroids
fading away the lines of your face
and I drown deep down in dreams
you come back to me
but now only as a shadow
and the love we had is now old
and I am lost in the woods
looking for the grave
I put our memories in
but didn't put up a headstone
lest somebody finds our treasure.
My own God
Our gods are broken in feet
they are standing on pedestals made of dead men
those who you worship are hollow inside
they will break apart as soon as the world catches fire
these dreams you see of saviours
the one who is chosen, who is great
all these dreams will turn to nightmares
and your knees will shiver and break
the very foundation shatters
and glass panes are broken with stones of truth
old might be my lamentation
but this world is unfair and unkind
I don't believe in Gods, not that I am an atheist
I had a god of mine too, but then his temple fell apart
I am losing him every day, every minute
he never knew I call him mine
he will never know
my earth trembles
this ground is sand
and my gods have renounced religion
my faith loses and love wins wars in dreams
long nights pass through me
leaving darkness behind which I then soak in.
Thoughts
I think.
I think and a poem begins and ends right there,
but I would like to say a few more things.
Arranging letters to form words and words to form lines is a good way to escape.
Twenty six alphabets make up for the void in my head, they help me spell it properly.
Nobody remembers my hands while they touch me,
nobody remembers me after they touch my head.
Away to the fields I go, far away.
Ginger juice and salt is what my mother fed me on the nights I coughed.
(leave me oh thoughts so that people stay)
I cough hard and miss salt and ginger
In front of me is a book of poems,
I hate to see my soul etched in words.
I see my body as a poem hated by readers.
A poem starts and ends as I think.
Two hundred days of hunger, my mind goes to places unknown.
Twenty six alphabets fail to speak a language in which I can write,
a language which can truly tell my story.
Words which can show tricks and entertain people are useless.
My mind whirls, I go to fields far away.
Kaveh invokes Keats, and he answers back,
it's all in my head, to think too much is a problem I've created for myself
Somebody said this to me in twenty-six alphabets.
Next year I'll turn twenty two,
one more to go and then one more and then one more and so on...
I count my life in years one by one.
My favourite poet hates blades, she etched poetry on her wrists when she was ten.
Somebody said today they helped me on a day.
I didn't recognise his face.
His face was concrete, hard to read.
It didn't have any of the usual alphabets.
He was lying, I helped myself on that day.
My face smiles and I forget to laugh on her jokes.
My head whirls, I hate poetry which I can't read because letters float.
Twenty-six alphabets away lives my freedom,
and I'm stuck on the twenty-second.
.
The End.
ImprintText: Vaibhav Sharma
Images: Vaibhav Sharma
Cover: Vaibhav Sharma
Publication Date: 02-06-2021
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
To all the desolate souls
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