Story

A silent flat wave

runs through me

as I think, how futile -

death

A moment after

it recoils
-

the expected peace

burns at once.

Life

every moment of its agony

lives again.

Shringi
September 17, 2017

Beckoning

Come,

It is time.

Touch my heart
See, how it lies clenched under my rib cage

You have been walking diagonally for too long
You have been hiding behind vagueness for far too long

I am you
All of it.

Those feet, its popping veins
were claimed by me years ago
Our hearts breathed the last time I touched them

That evening, I took all of you
Now, you are just flesh and bones - and a hollow voice

Your laugh's timbre is with me
Your body's aches are all me

Come back, you half man, half breathing carcass
We can lie down motionlessly
with our ears pressed against the earth
listening to the sounds of its belly

Haven't you always wanted that.

Shringi
August 31, 2017

Painting : The Beckoning by Kadir Nelson

Through Poetry

Let poetry, be my plea

To lay under 
your skin - the night

To gaze into
your moles - the stars

;

Let these deserted jumbled words
be the story

Of my wait
to meet somewhere - misplaced

Of my want
to touch you - vacant

;

Let the music of my nights
be drawn on these sheets
to be studied in desolation

 __ you, __me

;

Let the intrusion of our silence
be my penance

To be played
over and over again

To be stored
in letters - unread

Shringi
May 11, 2017

Burns Blue

Your name, fizzes on my tongue

It whistles
It burns blue
It blows rings in the air

It settles on my heart

Your lips move, I hear no words
You walk by my side, I feel no more special

But your name
fizzes on my tongue

It lies on my bed
It leans on my door
It smiles and hesitates

Your name settles on my heart

-Shringi
May 09, 2017

Listening to Goji Berry Sunset
The line 'Your name fizzes on my tongue' is borrowed from the song
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rED0XiO93c

Blame

jaise mere dil ko nichod diya ho kisi ne 

aur aankhon se paani cheen liya ho

jaise mere badan mei ek besharam nasoor ki tarah ghar kar liya ho usne

aur chehre se umeed poch di ho

My sore back and flinching eyes are soaked in the ordeal of this night 

And for this, who is to blame.

Shringi

March 8, 2017 

The Mad Alchemist

He looked at snow filled streets from his window

collected birds and beads

-

Like a recluse

he

stayed in the walls of his castle

and never let her in 

-

He, the alchemist

mixed 

hopes with dreams and dreams with fear,

mixed

songs of escape with moods of melancholy;

mixed

her emotions with his paintings

.

He looked at passing night skies from behind his lenses

collected berries, spirits and memories

-

Like a reckless recluse

he

erased his impressions

and misplaced women with things

-

He, the mad alchemist

fused

love with desires and desires with panic,

fused

songs of beauty with moods of malice;

fused

her story with his misgivings

.

In the end

Rudolf II, the master of images

died, very sick

Shringi

Feburary 5, 2017

Painting: Vertumnus (portrait of Rudolf II) by Giuseppe Arcimboldo in Milan c. 1590- 1591

The poem is inspired by my twisted history and that of Emperor Rudolf II of Austria, "The Mad Alchemist" 

Two of Him, Half of Me

And love took me to another place

but my shadow stayed

And love gave me flowers, songs and days

but my shadow craved

.

My shadow bled, hurt and crawled

but my love, carried it all

My shadow mocked, cheated and lurked

but my love, loved it all

Shringi

February 3, 2017

Painting: The Meat Train by Mark Ryden

After many days

As though I drank your jagged shadow
and couldn't spit it out

After many days
I didn't know, from nowhere
you would come and rake my heart
rake my heart

again

As though I swallowed your beaten spirit
and couldn't gulp it down

After many days
I didn't know, from nowhere
you would come and stroke my heart
stroke my heart

again

As though with you, I chewed away some of me 
and couldn't tell us apart

After many days
I didn't know, from nowhere
we would come and probe my heart
probe my heart

like many days back.

Shringi
January 30, 2017

Painting: After Many Days by Thomas Hart Benton

Wrote the poem while listening to 'The Robin's Jar' by My Brightest Diamond 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hL3xTt-cvSU

A Flight

We stand in a colorful array

You and I and the people we have met

With dresses and smiles, in the color red

You and I and the people we  have met

Against the night of stars

With young, brilliant hearts

As a sparkling twinkle in the expanse

decked in dreams, we stand

In a moment from now, we will form a ballad 

With lyrical symmetry and lit eyes -
You and I, and the people we have met

Will rise and swim in the starlit skies

Shringi

January 18, 2017

unknown photographer from Archana's engagement

To broken darkness,

We have come far
From nowhere to nowhere

Our journey has been of words
You and I have celebrated the festival of silhouettes
Stared into endless blurry nights

My dear broken darkness,
As light spills through you, I feel reassured of your presence
Thank you; tonight
I owe you my ornamental lapse.

Shringi

13 January 2017

from my instagram

Everyday Rituals

There is endless enjoyment behind our minds Where the speedy moments of outside - pause, Slow down And dissolve

They travel freely and reside into our pores for a
restful instant;

Before trickling down

There is an immeasurable amount of song and dance

Within us

Within us,

Are also tendrils of gleam

Participating in the mass celebrations

Twirling

Rhythmically

With ornate hearts

And limpid breath

Let’s voyage

In

Shringi

1 July 2016

Unwanted

The air was swollen with quietude
It felt calmer than usual

Vibrations of bygone conversations

Usually lingering about
Were nowhere

It had no smell left
no music, no story

The air was empty but heavy
with the heart of an unwanted

It had finally concluded its cleansing
Now,
Swollen with quietude

Shringi

29 June 2016

Painting by Dan McCaw

Nowhere to go

We stand in the middle of barren lands
Sky revolving above us
We have got nowhere to go
We are waiting for the wind
to give us our freedom
to nudge us ahead of the sky

We sit under a tree in endless forests
Sky revolving above us
We have got nowhere to go
We are waiting for the leaves to fall
to bring to us the seasons
to say to us how far we have come

We lie on a bench in a wooden house
Sky revolving above us
We have got nowhere to go
We are waiting for the sky to stop
to come with us to a rest
to close our eyes and fall to our feet

Shringi
03 May 2015

Painting: Archeological Reminiscence of Millet's "Angelus", 1933 by Dali

Purple Light

I enter a purple fog

swimming in lapse

I have pictured the light of relief,

It's always purple.

The smell of this light is fresh

The mood is raw but athrill 

When I am fully immersed and have walked a few steps in it

I will like to see you in this light with me

smell the purple off your skin for a long time.

The touch of this light is fleecy

The feel is of a wise end

It has coloured my mind a few times now

I will like to become this purple smoke

touch the color, being a part of it.

I will walk out of here

with purple iris

I will look at you with my new eyes

watch you swim in purple light.

Shringi

June 20, 2013

Painting: Purple Mountains Majesty by Karen Margulis

http://kemstudios.blogspot.de

Another ornamental lapse

When the wind stops blowing for you to celebrate your lapse, you know that you owe something to the unknowns.

In my imagination, there is a celebration where colors are racing towards me and I am trapped in a whirl. I want to touch each of these - in my hands is always some wind. In my imagination, I am alone with whispers coming from the unknown and voices going away. I must be dreaming, I must be truly alive. 

Another ornamental lapse enters silently and takes me in my corner. My eyes are covered with mud; this layer of mud is now a wall between the light of reality and the light of an interval. There is no end to this moment, it is here to be absorbed completely. This lapse is empty, to the point that it is complete. I am frozen in my freedom, smelling the wall of mud.

When the wind starts blowing to remind you of your senses, you know that you owe something to the unknowns.

Shringi
27 - 04 - 2013

On my way

There is a place from where you could fall but you end up rising and that place from where you can only see the top. You are blind.

You are on your way

walking towards yourself

You are on your way

disturbing your vision, with your movement

You are on your way

with an empty idea

a brand new hope

You are on your way with your

half dreamlike plans

Let the sun wash you today

make you a man

Let your path blur your intention

make you a man

Let this be your destination

where you end.

Shringi

27 - 04 - 2013

Meditations

Meditations slipped in his actions

as he moved magnificently through the chaos

He did not need to close his eyes 

to see any darkness

His heart was still.

Life went past him

like a gust of wind

He soaked in, the little

that he could keep

He smiled

His eyes glittered, always

He was lying on the floor of the world

He could breathe

I know him

by face, by aura

by resonance

I know him through a secret connection

Shringi

07-04-2013

Walls of ignorance

Far away sounds

fall on the walls of ignorance.

None of us understand;

The voice continues

confusing melancholy with secrecy

I want you to hear what I hear

I want you to make of this what I do

I think these sounds are old

falling on bricks which do not absorb

Come, let's travel to the other side of this wall

welcome, the confusion

We can play our parts, you be the sadness

I can be the mystery.

Shringi

30 March 2013

The famous noise

As the brittle walls of confinement

got stronger

As the world became a tad smaller

everyday

She crawled out of her melody

into the famous noise

She traveled

Gazed out of many outlets

Indeed she was lovely

specially when she had music flying

in and out of her

Days

Beginnings 

so many faces

so many stories narrated

people cracking, letting out their sounds

contributing to the famous noise of the outside

(she is now hearing)

Shringi

16-02-2013

Sweet Thursday

The last sweet Thursday has arrived and I hope that it holds all that I have been looking for; Suzy - unsure, Doc - aloof, Fauna - beaten, Mack - dressed and Hazel as the president.

How many lives will  be lived
this Thursday
and how many paper butterflies will fly
how many strangers will smile at me
and how many pages will stay unread

On sweet Thursday,
my friends, have dinner with me
On sweet Thursday,
let the clocks be happy
On sweet Thursday,
bring me something orange
On sweet Thursday,
we will paint an autumn leaf

I shall give in tomorrow
but let me play
today is so temporary

Shringi
14 - 02 - 2013