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