Her Lapse

She went to the white forest,
and plucked red apples.
She went to the purple sea,
and sat on a yellow boat.
She went to a Berlin balcony,
from there, sent bubbles to the sky.
She went to a black garden,
and planted green roses.


She is now sitting in a blue cloud,
and spreading funny drops of dreams.
She is alone and a rainbow is falling on her.

Shringi
1 August, 2012

Holiday

On a holiday,
We eat together and we want the food to be good.
On a holiday,
We stare at neighbors and wish them a little less happiness
For, only we know how to celebrate, how to cook.


I have cooked a meal of potatoes
for my sons, daughters, their spouses and mates
I have spent hours on this
cooking and smelling the only dish I have prepared


We will be together, this holiday
and pray for a better fortune for the next
The very grand, we look at you, to shower on us
a new batch of healthy potatoes for the next
holiday.

Shringi
10 June 2012
Painting of 'The Potato Eaters' by Van Gogh

Peeled and Painted

I am here, to have my reality peeled
To look at my lover, dead
To
listen to his voice in the songs of the earth.

I am here, to paint my body in vibrant colors and look at the world as an enemy.

I am here, to find the rush known only by the wind

I wish I were a woman,
pouring thoughts in caves. Watching them fly from there into the reflecting sky.
I wish, to scratch the world, irritate it and fill into it's wounds, agony.

I am here, to shout, with the paint on my skin.

Shringi
9/6/2012
Painting of a hand by Picasso

In the world of Gauguin

Her brown body lay still on a bed of yellow petals. Her red mind lay still on waves of redundant events. Her long fingers lay still on her dry lips.

When the smoke was spreading evenly on burnt lands, I was filling a pot of water and looking maddeningly at the sky.


There is some dry color on these paint brushes. There is some dryness in the wind. There are some dry leaves spread on the doorway. There is some rain, falling on this dryness.

I have a destination in mind, but I am stuck in a group of riders. I have a destination in mind, but I am too lonely to decide. I have a destination in mind, distractions are beautiful. I have a destination in mind, my duties have one too.

I thought she was beautiful in her torn clothes; her dirty hands knew the earth, her stolid eyes knew the sky. She was stubborn, poor, full of intent and strikingly beautiful

Shringi
5/6/2012 
Paintings by Paul Gauguin
 

In an upturned world

Remember we are all together in this, and none of us know each other at all.

These rain drops falling on us, are people

We are one of them, falling on us

I am not getting drenched at all

Instead, I am shaking these drops off my clothes

I am dry, so I see are you.

White and black keep mingling

while I sit under a red shed

wondering when the rainfall would stop

As we climb up the hill

In an upturned world we are actually moving down

Panting, sweating, desperately trying to proceed

The hour glass we are falling through, us the grains of sand

(with another unit of time)

is bound to be turned around, when we will be filling, what we just emptied

or, emptying what we just filled

(together)

Remember we are all together in this, and none of us know each other at all.

Shringi

April 20, 2012

Brown eyes

They were brown, those eyes

old and thoughtless

stark, inviting and isolated

Under the eyelids, were stories

of huts, tulips, bees, fishes and trees

We met outside an ocean

just when the sun was rising

We went inside the water to be left alone

The water drifted us apart, away

All I remember of him, are his eyes

moving away, under the water of the ocean

brown, stark, inviting and isolated

Shringi

April 17, 2012

The Wheel

Let me paint you an illusion, home.

spin it around you as you travel, lonely

Let me carve you an illusion, hope

drop it on you as you search, continuously

There shan't be any curious individual

on my planet

There shan't be any hysterical idea

There shan't be any persuasion or argument

All there shall be is a slow paced wheel

crushing and moving, crushing and moving

Let me write you a letter of promises

Let me close your eyes, gently

Let me carve you an illusion, hope

drop it on you as you search, continuously

Shringi

April 08, 2012

Painting : The Wheel of Life by Sidpai Korlo

at http://www.flickr.com/photos/christinyca/3865972629/