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

A few steps above

As I sit to be surrounded by my favorite sound

I hear a cry

long, disturbed and sharp

coming my way

I shut the door

and settle to enjoy my music.

When I close my eyes

and prepare to listen

I see the face of a child

brown, beautiful and sad

He is crying

I listen to this sound closely

- Shringi

7th January 2013

The Chase

I look abnormally at my footsteps

and see how close I am 

to where I begun

In miles, its many

in direction, its none

in revelation, its grand

in gain, nothing

I continue, to chase

hop choices, to find order

I pass

landscapes, stories, men, love, skies

I invariably find

an alluring destination

This is chase

it is better than ignorance

This is chase

much poor than harmony

Shringi

1 November 2012

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