Incomplete
It's been raining incessantly here and I don't know about you, but rain always makes me mushy, sad, nostalgic, happy, silent and whole...all at the same time. Which is ofcourse why I write poems on incompleteness :)
Downpour of lies,
Excuses and shackles;
Silent whispers
Of a parched life.
Little slips of paper
Floating wisps
Of life;
A bridge across never
for you & me
Deep, dark wells
Of emptiness;
A streak of light
across every scar.
Downpour of lies,
Excuses and shackles;
Silent whispers
Of a parched life.
posted by Kumari at 10:28 AM
7 Comments:
thats so sad and unhappy like... :(
Sometimes the incomplete can mean more than something that is complete
hey Kums - try melting in the rain!
Here's a piece called "Of my life". I wanted to write a song but didnt happen :(
A moment ...
Between two infinitesimally close points in time
That of my life
Of my tired footsteps
Of my weird habits
Of my retreats
If I could melt in the horizon
Or swim beyond where the oceans end
Who would have cared ...
Nice. Especially the bit that says - Bridge across never....
Rains also make me think about food. Overwhelmingly so.
Nice!!
Though rain gives me no such feeling except the thought of muck and puddles.. I guess I have lived too long in Bombay to appreciate the romance aspect of it..:)
ding dong..... been long time.... time to post sumthin!!!!!
@Shirsha: :)
@Cacophoenix: Sometimes...that's the catch!
@Anon: Nice but you should complete it. And your name?
@Soups: :) Danke
@RT: Hmm...even atrocious Madras roads never made me hate rain. I've never been to Bombay but yeah, sometimes we need to look back to realise how much we liked rain :)
@Anon2: Done!
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