May 30, 2006

the seeds of secrets

the seeds of secrets you planted
in the fertile soil of my psyche
all have sprung up and blossomed
their clambering vines wind a-
round and round
the tree of my body
closer still
more tightly still
trussing my legs and arms
binding my lips
slowly
slowly
stifling me

the seeds of secrets you planted
these seeds of secrets you plant
in the fertile soil of my psyche
sprout and subsist on my essence
silencing
strangling
subsuming
me

slowly
slowly

May 29, 2006

i have been told

i have been told
that as a little girl
i had been pretty as a china doll
i have been told
my pageboy bob and straight bangs
looked almost wig-like
in their thick, straight, shiny perfection
i have been told
my skin was beautiful
soft and fair and a healthful pink
the peach-halves of my rounded cheeks
my rosebud pout would never need
artificial painting
i have been told
i had candle-lit fingers
the tips of which burned flame-like
ten fire rose blossoms

i have been told
when i was younger
i was plump and adorable
i was told
when i was older
i was fat and needed to be thin
to be beautiful
i did – i tried

i have been told
i am now a woman
(even though i still feel
 like a girl)
that i “look sweet”
that i am “sexy”
“have breasts enough”
“nice legs”
(“what’s your number?”)
“you’re hot i wanna
 fuck you”

as a girl-child
as a woman-child
i have been told
head to toes
how i looked
how i look
how i should look
what i heard however
was
you are the sum of your looks

i have been told
lies and half-lies
truths and half-truths
i have been told

but i’m none of all that
but i’m more than all that
the sum of my looks
no
i have not been told

no
i need not be told

May 27, 2006

that dream last night

the second time
i had dreamed
of you
you were lying
on your side
and i’d gone
to you
touched you
put my arms around you
laid my head down on yours

but that dream last night
i was lying
on my side
and you’d came
to me
put your arms around me
laid your head on my hips
while i drowsed
reached down
stroked you
brow to the little hollow
between your ear and jaw
curled my fingers
in the nest of hair at your neck
your skin as fine and soft
as a newborn’s

that dream last night
my fingers were greedy
for the feel of you
and i addicted
to touching you

that dream last night
had i dreamed of you
or was it you
who were dreaming
of me

May 23, 2006

bearer

every time i let my hair down
from the prison of its tightly wound bun
let it down the slope of my back
let it down the length of my spine
in its kinky rat-tail glory
i immediately feel so much better
about myself
even in the cloyingly sultry outdoors
the natural sauna of this equatorial island
my spine straightens
my shoulders are thrown back breasts thrust out
there is an arrogant strut
in my steps
a confident sensual swing
in my hips

i understand it now
my hair is more than just
hair

every time i let my hair down
i let unfurl the long pennant
of me
my carriage is tall and proud
my stride jaunty
because i am the bearer of my own
long
long
standard

untitled

i am unborn
i am still not born
night-less days and
day-less nights i spend
protected
in the amniotic sac
of warm fluid seamless
introspections and ideas
fetal-curled in sentient-oblivion

i am unborn
i am still not born
i am gestating in the womb
of dreams
waiting to be born
into an airy neverwhere
- always there -
of hope and possibilities
of creation and destruction
poised at the aperture
of the vagina
of beginnings and ends
past   future   present
waiting to be born

May 17, 2006

untitled

black
pullover and

black
pants and

black
sling-backs and

black
camera case and

black
laptop briefcase and

black
book bag

but

a full head of curls
wild and burning
intensely

auburn

On The Cards

Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Daily Astrological Forecasts by Pt Kewal Anand Joshi

… Falling in love at first sight as you meet your dream girl is on the cards.


Did the girl
I was supposed to meet
and fall in love with
(at first sight!)
today
know she was supposed to
run into me
(in a chance meeting?)

by today?

Because –
you know what? –
I’d waited
and waited …

and
I’d waited –

but she stood me up!

(Wasn't that
 supposed to be
 on the
 damn cards
 too?!)

May 15, 2006

The Pessimistic Optimist

oh yes
this vase
(as you can see)
is half-
filled with
emptiness

go ahead
go pour it
all out
(if you want)
so it’ll be
completely filled

now
isn’t it lovely
(isn’t it typical)
a vase filled
in its entirety
with crystal clear
emptiness

untitled

have you ever
noticed
the rain cloud overhead –
the one so pregnant it hangs so
dark, so low?

have you ever
wondered
how long it took to gather
each and every infinitesimal water
particle that it now bears within
its dark fleecy cocoon,
that weighs it down and slows
its passage across the portentous
indigo horizon?

nine years.

it has taken me
nine years
to eventually build up this reservoir,
every globule, every droplet.

a nine-year absence
where i have wondered
if the drought would ever break
and relief come to the parched
and choked alike.

and now
i am ready to shrug
off my heavy accumulation, ready
for a respite from the over-
flowing burden.

but now
it’s time – time for my release.

and then
i find myself troubled -
mocked -
by the debilitating emptiness
of my pyrrhic relief.

May 14, 2006

untitled

i cry
sometimes in the privacy of my self
sometimes in the anonymity of the night
tears are private
the inexorable leakages of emotions
furtive thoughts and surreptitious emotions

if i were to cry
if i had to cry
let me not be the only one
when i pour out in rivulets of tears
let the skies be lachrymose too
so that my teardrops might mingle
with theirs
so that mine might be washed
away by theirs

today i realized i’ve yet to cry
for the loss of you
it’s been half a year since
and still i’ve yet to cry
for my loss of you

but the skies now begin to sniffle
(i imagine they’ve only just
  realized something had been
  taken from them)
but the skies now begin to sob
and as i await their teardrops
i gather my own raindrops
in anticipation of the moment
i might wash away
their dolorous tears
with my endless rain

that we might
(one day)
dispel each
of each

May 10, 2006

one day

i will run away
into myself
where i have furnished
a chamber from which rafters
hang the intricately
woven tapestries
of my dreams



9th – 10th May 2006

outside | inside

(a paradox)

is it a paradox (is it happy)
that when everything on the inside
falls apart into countless pieces
the outside holds them in
and together –
your skin, the cellophane tape that
swathes and preserves you;
and when everything on the outside
collapses and shatters
the inside will still be standing strong –
your dreams and hopes and desires,
the steel skeleton that sustains
and reinforces the edifice of you.



9th – 10th May 2006

May 09, 2006

untitled

i must not cry
or i’ll dissolve
for once i start
i will never stop
until i’ve cried
myself into a water
fall
plunging headlong
crashing into a
crushing pool
and drown myself

i must not cry
not just because i can
not
because i will not

i will not

May 05, 2006

No Briar Rose, No Sleeping Beauty

If there were no Briar Rose slumbering, no Sleeping Beauty waiting to be awakened by a kiss – would you still bother with the towering and dense thorn hedge?

Would you have rode for endless miles in a thundering storm and break out your sword – or shears or machete – to hack and hew at the tenacious and stubborn stems, the magically self-regenerating stalks?

Would you, really, even bother getting out of bed (nevermind the long distance commute and arduous, physical toil) for anything less than a pot of gold – or a drop-dead gorgeous young lady – at the end of a strenuous, muddy trek?

You think that’s bad?

Wait, there’s more – and it gets worse: there isn’t a drop-dead gorgeous princess within the castle turret behind the thorn hedge waiting to be saved; in fact, she is just an ordinary girl (possibly quite plain too), and, what’s more, she isn’t looking to be rescued either – much less saved.

You know what - actually, the thorn hedge is all her doing. Yup, she’d planted the damn thing; watered and fertilized it, spent a lot of time cultivating and talking to it, making sure it grow up thick and strong and tall – she did. The thorn hedge is meant to keep you out, not imprison her.

So there you go – that’s reality for you. There aren’t princesses waiting to be awakened and saved - there aren’t princesses at all, period; and the girl-woman dwelling behind the hedge of thorn isn’t waiting to be rescued either. She’s not going to be the perfect, pretty, and precious little thing you get to live with happily ever after either.

I’ll tell you one thing: sometimes, the ones encircled with and hidden by towering thorn hedges don’t want to be set free from their surroundings or circumstances – or, even, themselves; sometimes, at the very best, they just hope to be found, that’s all.

And if and when you do find them (and manage to get through to them), what will happen next is entirely up to the two of you: happily ever after is for fairytales; in real life, you never know what you’re gonna get.

So, then, the question remains: if there were no Briar Rose slumbering, no Sleeping Beauty waiting to be awakened by a kiss – would you still bother with the towering and dense thorn hedge?

Would you, really?