chimes of a forgotten melody

Let my words be flawless today, Clear as silver stream, Fresh as morning spring, Let it reach you toiling through doubts in your mind, Let it move along your turbulent vistas, Where piety had made melancholic tombs, And proceeds of war made wounds that can't be healed, Where I once made my abode severing your rueful constraints. Let my words reach there again, As an ending quote, Or maybe a wholesome resurgence, Like light following an eclipse, Like land after years of sea, Let my words make meanings, For long it was only noise - farcical moonshine, Today let it be plain and from my hardened heart, Let it leave no doubt, no points to guess, No rhyming sentences, no superficial nonsense. I want it straight, As pure as my perpetual longing, As unfettered as my resurrecting love, Evading your shallow pools of dubiety, Caressing the happiness we shared and the grief we forgot, Let it touch the nights we laid awake, Let it bring rainbows for our storms, Let it...

What good are stars my love, If I cannot talk about them to you? What good is the moon, Upon whose silver canvas the dreams we drew, If you cannot see? What good are journeys, Miles I walk, Galaxies and heat deaths, If it isn't you that I reach? What good are memories, Travels in time, Like pulsars in bleak space, If I cannot find your laughs amidst? What good are spaceships, If there are only voids that I may reach?

I remember watching her, it was a long long time back that I can't quite recollect how she looked like that day. She was waiting for bus after college, I don't remember who she was with, all I remember was that I was afraid to go near her, I don't really know why, but I was. I watched, I remember watching her, she looked beautiful. *** I don't usually carry my umbrella to places, it's not that I particularly enjoyed getting wet, it's just that I don't like carrying too many things when I'm traveling. I'd prefer getting wet to perpetually living attentive to my umbrella. It was raining that day, I don't really remember where I was. We were walking, she had her umbrella opened, it could barely fit us both. I could feel her close to me, I could feel myself all messed up. The rain was pouring down and parts of us were together and dry, while parts of us were apart and soaking. *** She was by no means the most charming, she wasn...

Can you hear me Amma? Sometimes I can't hear myself, Sights remain blurry, Voices frail, Paths I walk infect me, If I stop now, Can you survive? Do you remember Amma? The day you left me alone at school? I felt being ripped apart, From you, trees and crows, Earthworms and centipedes, I cried, You never came. Did you know when I first lied to you? "The wound in my hand was from a fall in the playground" Would you have held me close, If I said the truth then? Would you kiss me to sleep, If I say the truth now? Could you come here Amma? Will you rest me on your lap? Will you sing me a lullaby, of butterflies, flowers, and love? Will you stroke my erupting head? I need to sleep. *** For those who don't follow Malayalam, ' Amma ' is the word we use for 'mother'. I could've used 'mother' itself here, but then it wouldn't have been a poem at all.