Instead.

Instead of misery, I felt an indescribable calm.

...

A drop of cold water fell on my cheek

A fallen dry rose flew from ground into my lap

The breeze by the brook kept on hitting me in a rhythm

I could not ignore.

This had to be a revisit, of times, of broken stories, of chill

Instead of bitter pain, I felt the feel of sweet acceptance

I must have been hurt, to now be overwhelmed such

Eyes decorated with black kohl, decide to shed some thoughts

I can understand, they need to spread the magic they hold

and be free of the many burdens.

Shringi

May 24, 2011

A small boat

A small boat

carrying my message

is travelling across the vastest of seas

Tonight I will sleep without my muse

I will wait for the message to reach

before I talk of the breeze making melodies

of the night falling on the boat

of the message being broken and redone by the waves

of the tiny boat with a small light hanging by its roof

Tonight I will not talk of the many stars

falling on the sea

of the music playing under the skin of earth

I will not talk of the moving horizon

I will sleep without my muse

ignoring the birds flying east

the rays of moon striking the hills

of men wearing colors and moving towards

day

Tonight I will wait for the tiny boat to reach

I will sleep without my muse.

Shringi

May 23, 2011

Painting by an unknown artist taken from popartmachine.com

A fractured canopy

Knitting dreams
under a forbidden canopy

Next to the street opposite to me
is a small river of stars

There is a leak in this canopy
the dripping water
turns into a message
before it reaches me

In the darkness
is hidden a song
which was written centuries ago
by a man in love with me

The roof is the sky
It is separating me from the sky behind it

Soon I will turn into a purple flower
my nectar will be distributed amongst the most fortunate
To bloom, I need more sun
for which I finally will have to move out of this fractured canopy

"The canopy broke when she left."

Shringi
May 10, 2011

Flowers of Spring

I am a little girl
who stays in a tiny red room
I am the fantasy
locked in the cupboard of my adulthood

I have a yellow frock
a box of ribbons
few favorite poems
and many small shoes

I dance when I walk
and fall when I run
I am the little girl
who comes often in the nights to you
The one who gives you a rose
and plants a kiss on your cheek

I will grow up and be one of you
but while I am little
let me give names to the many flowers of spring

Shringi
08/ May/ 2010

A Peep

And heavily, once,
he lifted his eyelids

The map in front of him
was in flames
So were his senses

He slept
in the lap of time
In his mind,
he undressed

Thirsty
for a glass of moonlight,
with his eyes closed
he asked me to look into him
I did.
He was overflowing with what he yearned

There was fervor
there was shine
there were bruises
and there was him.

Shringi
29 April, 2011

It is dark

Where there will be stars

In a forest of silhouettes,

A black owl sings a song,

every night

She cries when she finishes -

flies off her branch

The silhouettes stand still, silent

watch her go

The sky has surrendered to the night

together the sky, the owl and the silhouettes

look further

where there will be stars

24 April 2011

Shringi

Vibrancy

Come to my abyss,

fuse.

You are the sound

you are intently listening to.

Carve your mien

in my groove,

in my groove

delve.

These are cautiously pleated waves

of us, of you.

Shall we?

as we resonate.

Shringi

April 20, 2011