Skip to main content

Can you hear me



Can you hear me 

in the echoes of those 

ancient duststorms that 

wandered the prehistoric earth

Before the time, when

the mountain was lake

and you lay in arms


i have always been here

just beyond the corner 

of your eye flirting

with the edge of the mirror 


can you hear me

tapering through the stone

breathing ever so delicately, like the wind 

blowing through a slow delhi afternoon


i have always been here

a forgotten memory, held

hostage by a desprate love 

trying to call you over all this din


can you hear me

a vagarant song on loose lips 

sneaking around the world by hitching

 rides along with unsuspecting ruffians

feeding on scraps of love that you 

unwittingly throw away  


i have always been here

embedded in radio broadcasts and

sewn into silver midnight light

sending out SOSes through ripples of time


Can you hear me !!


please.








Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For posterity

--- The following is for public record  for posterity and history  Let them know you were here  etch your names on these walls   Die in the name of revolution, Industrial, or  Agricultural,   Political or, Sexual,  Just find a cause  Don't decline this invitation to your private doom,  It is a limited-time offer,  For all sales must end     What utter madness is this? Why are you running away from this? On what list is your name on?  Who did you meet?  What did you talk about? Was it about me?  Am I sounding too paranoid?  A little insane  Ignore the glint in my eye, I take no pleasure in this  All I say is accept this love  After all,   whose love isn't a little tainted?  Whose name,  a little tarnished?  Spill out your silences now, I have shown enough love  Others here are much worse, Brotherhood and fealty mean nothing here I am here as your fri...
Post a Comment
Read more

Zulaikha’s Lament

Blotted and Stained Like blood on apples, My reputation remains in tatters After these years But what was a woman to do? -- He had the face of An angel His shoulders, A sculptors dream His eyes, spoke a million languages his lips, like daggers driven apart -- I grew outside of Cairo Unloving father and sad mother Sold me for a goat and   A bag of gold To the first merchant who They came across -- My Husband, Kind, Generous man Made me his wife And put me along with Thirteen others -- My Husband, Kind Generous man Kept me happy Visited me twice a month Blessing me with His drunken kisses and Impotent rage -- I was never sad What more could A woman want? Lots of wealth and An impotent husband Sex was a chore The price of being so glad -- Then he came Chained and covered with dust Another man from the Slave traders den He stood at the gate Neither sad nor in jest Even at a distance...
Post a Comment
Read more

Indigo Halls of Imagined Gods

In the indigo halls of Imagined Gods of Love, Lovers leave half burnt letters of incense and trails of broken hearts - Among ruins of shattered Love knots, she sits alone Weaving a rosary out of Thin air With longing as its thread and Beads made out of tears -- In the Indigo halls of Imagined gods of Love, The walls conspire and whisper Into her ears Telling tales of unfaithful loves And unrequited desires -- The rags of threads once Tied at the Astans of Hamdan, Lie at her feet, as she sits alone Knitting desolation from the whispers To sacrifice at the altars of the imagined Gods of love 
Post a Comment
Read more