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More Poems
Naughty Sparrow In Search of Peace Listening to the echoes Distance and Glory The Effect Playful Relation Shiva's Dance The Corner Fresh Offering Second Meeting The One Thing The Magic Drop Basic Desire The Staircase The Party The Wait Doll's House Tidbits New Poems Poetry Section More Poems... |
The Card Game
Despite various permutations and combinations the lines never repeat on fingers, or a face; I smile within confines of my tongue and cheek, the same queen and king laugh behind the ace. I saw you through the opening in front - a window, you appeared fuller as I declared my trump suit; a change not in the object but on the subjective side, the confidence a card gains in knowing its strength! -- Expectation In labour he does not see capital, but finds love; in work he expects no return, performs worship; in contemplation he is sober, discards scholarship; he meditates as naturally as one would breathe; line of demarcation fades between secular and spiritual; the ochre scarf contrasts nicely against his white collar. -- The Watermark It is faint but sure, on every page, the basis of words I try to extrude. The watermark silently tolerates regular, vulgar, and cheap expressions - the graphs and pictures in the foreground. May be the watermark itself is a distortion, the ignorance - the darkness - the faintness, the non-clarity of incomplete imprint. The fugitive expression masquerades as a piece of art - the water mark! Would you like to keep the background clean? - rub off the shades of distortions - thosse grays drawn from the mixture of black and white? Only if it were possible to separate the green of earth and the blue of sky from intervening thoughts and clouds! -- Previous | Next |
The Staircase
That day I hesitated to put my foot on the step; wondered, do I climb towards the terrace or does the terrace descend down? Strangely, the staircase laughed and the sound reverberated all around. It reached the sky laboring as it ascended, and was lost in the abyss in its cascading descent. -- Primal Nature Like a completed jigsaw puzzle the disturbed pieces are in place; a state of complacent euphoria creates the illusion of one picture. The broken lines imperceptibly merge into one another with optical finesse and overpower my doubts for a while - mystifying moments mingled with joy. In the ensuing dynamic pause, as tricky magic balances the act, I forget the magician - the real manipulator of primal nature. -- The Thaw The wind is cold, bitter cold, freezes our relations to fragile icicles; in the ravine below the thick glaciers appear as masks of ice-age legacies. I never wanted to be a lotus leaf, the green round and moronic design that never allows a feeling to stick - in the name of non-attachment. Throw the light, the light to thaw the icy surface and frozen lines, my skin is stretched beyond tolerance wearing this mask of social niceties. -- all poems by c s shah
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