soul mates

people might call her foolish
but she always maintained
that he was the love of her life
after just one meeting

because even through all her lovers
that she changed like handkerchiefs
and her happy  marriage
and her loving kids

he was the one
she continued to address in her mind
when she wanted to share a secret

fleeting romance

i often wonder
what it would be like
to have piles and piles of memories to choose from
to be confused
whether it was on this day you went out
or that friend who said something witty
to have so much love in your mind
enough to live on, dream on


instead of
every detail of every memory
standing out crystal clear
not because it is important
(which it is, by the way)
but because there is so little of it
that you can count on your fingers

disconnect

when you encounter
what really matters
everything else
just seems so inconsequential
like tinny voices
struggling to get through
to the inside
of a closed bubble

when the house of cards comes tumbling down

i thought i knew myself
until i realized that
the unique aspects
of my personality
that i cling to so fierceley
are just bits and pieces i made up
to fill the void
of the loss of the
real me

the old me
seems so alien
now that i have found the
even older me

yearning

i jsut need two extra days
i need a week, i need a month
is what i say
when i do not have the courage to say
that what i need
is a lifetime

anxities of writer's block

the lull in my poetry
is just the calm before the storm

(hoping against hope that it is so,
and is not an example of
happiness
that takes the fuel of creativity
away)

Coming

Full circle

Blessed

Realizing
The reason for a charmed life
That i forever took for granted

The shadow of an angel
Over my heart
The hand of an angel
On my head
The thoughts of an angel
Following me around

Get out of my life!

It is true that
Without you
I will be at peace

But a peace
Llike the pin-drop silence
Before a storm

Raging with the agitation of
Several tornadoes

Monogamy

Aren't we all
The victims of a suffocatig system
That idealizes
Denial
Austerities
And renunciation?

Art saturation - I

Someday
when all the artists
know all the techniques
and every piece of art
is a technical masterpiece,
will we be saturated of art?

Is there a term for

Attraction to half baked ideas?

So disconcerting

A chink in your armor

(Is it even possible?)

Art saturation - II

I wonder if art
Is meant to be preserved at all
If it is not meant
For a single generation
To delve deeply in
Discuss
Find meanings and layers

When art was not stored
Every generation created it anew
And it struck every audience as new

But now, everything we see
Is just a better version
Of something we have already seen

Or worse,
Just a different version
Of what we have already seen
The meanings
Have already been discussed
And become cliched

And there is nowhere to go
Because everything has been
Done before

Foresight

The long stories of longing
The ambiguous words
    Used with perfect knowledge
    Of what they imply
The unassuming hints

That i pretend not to hear
And let pass

Will i regret tomorrow
Not taking you up on your
Invitation?

Perhaps i will
Most probably i will not

But i will certainly regret it
Fifty years from now