Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Theme of the month: Witness

beatific smile, such innocence-
I touch him endearingly careful,
so as not to disturb him

 his head is tilted to the side
body so twisted
I go blind for a moment 

that white bedspread is my witness
as it slowly soaks crimson blood

 @gautami.tripathy April 12, 2016 

 you peep from behind the curtains
I ignore you
even when you laugh aloud

 I have emptied my mind of you
don't you dare ask why
not if you don't wish to be killed 

believe me, the clock as my witness
I will shoot you on the head

 @gautami.tripathy April 12, 2016

the weather is hot
thoughts have dried out
and the stories are gone
words dance haphazardly
to escape beyond the roof
so as to fly with the birds
with heart as my witness
I will again hold the words in my mind
@gautami.tripathy April 11, 2016

those polka dots on your shirt
drive me crazy
and then the buttons come undone
scattered all over the floor
I pick a couple
the tiny holes laugh at me
with the ceiling fan as my witness-
I walk out with the torn shirt
@gautami.tripathy April 10, 2016

no, you are not here-
despite the promises you made,
writing on the sand.
the words now are hiding in the crevices
of the waves of the ocean
in a haphazard way
the seashells are the witness
while the waves rattle needlessly heedless
@gautami.tripathy April 7, 2016

I offer you a scoop of icecream
you grab the whole tub
our spoons fight with each other
I offer you a look
you wrap your arms around me
our essences intermingle
the stars are our witnesses
while moonless night hides us
@gautami.tripathy April 6, 2016

you flaunt her on my face
I don't give a damn
the rot had set long before
you show her off to your friends
I cook pasta for all
the spices drives everyone crazy
chilli flakes are my witnesses
both of you won't recover any time soon
@gautami.tripathy April 5, 2016

all you ever do is work
no time for anything else
maybe except for walking your dogs
all you ever do is to check your gadgets
obsessed to the point of insanity
maybe except for eating
that television is your witness
until you switch it off for the night
@gautami.tripathy April 4, 2016

I eat a chocolate
smear it on your mirror
and make your face hideous 

I eat a doughnut
look at the hole
and think who vacuumed your brain

"that bowl is my witness
until it falls on the ground and smashes"

@gautami.tripathy April 4, 2016

I search for the scissor
look into your wardrobe
and cut all your ties
I search for the pliers
enter your office
and cut all the wires
"that photo frame is my witness
I smash it to the ground"
@gautami.tripathy April 3, 2016

a shoe abandoned
I pick it up
aim it to your head
second shoe abandoned
I pick it up
treasure it as a trophy
"that lone bird is my witness
when I smile with glee"
@gautami.tripathy April 3, 2016

you built a wall
I climbed over it
and messed with your mind
you built that wall again
I broke it down
and messed with your heart
the cobbled stones are my witnesses
a mere wall is no deterrent for me.....
@gautami.tripathy April 3, 2016

Sunday, October 18, 2015

eyes keep staring from all angles

pick a fight
or some food
the choice is all yours
do not walk that path that leads to weapons
or you will be buried deep in the quagmire

you have to transform that negative energy
into something fruitful
take a deep breathe
(you can practice that)
and run out of that pit

"I have the view for you, go find the vision"

### Wrote this after two long months of drought. Hopefully, my muse is back!!

Sunday, August 16, 2015

if only it was just a spider

go on, you have a feast
I will escape into solitude to meditate

my mind's engine has stopped
I want to empty it to move on

how do I generate a ghost,
any ghost, who makes me forget

torn, broke, I trudge deeper into the jungle
yes, I laugh aloud at my dare

my veins stand out but I am no longer torn
once I find the way, I will hit the sack

while you have a gruesome feast
with everything ghoulish

I know I irritate you all the time
with my enigmatic smile

"my parlor is the abode of a stray,
and you know, 
you can't get away any longer"

Sunday, August 09, 2015

stinging the sin

 I chisel away the plaster
with that blindfold
I need to find that mirror to scry
before I hear someone cry 
of untold horrors just round the corner
a chill runs through me
and I recede to a corner
I can hear the rattle of a train 
passing by that creek

I know I have to find that mirror
instead I find a webcam
hidden in the recess of that wall

no wonder, foreboding had taken me over
I was catching up with someone's sin
that sin which invades the privacy of others

I hear a crushed soul crashing to ground 
with that drumbeat

"let me be blindfolded and smell the flowers
or is it smoke I am swallowing?"

Sunday, August 02, 2015

hide me within you

near that river,
close to the railway track
a body is revealed. 
is she alive
did she collapse there?

I can see the longing in her face
imagine her radiant smile in better days
and gnash my teeth at the waste
where did she emerge from
now almost skin and bones

a mask, 
isn't it what we have always?
is it reel, is it real
who will answer
above that silence

media has all the answers
one needs only post it there
no respect for the alive
even less for the dead
but let her rest in peace

"let me close my eyes and rest for a while
while she lies in the shallows"

Sunday, June 14, 2015

weeds sprouting out of your mind

I pick the mouthpiece
speak secrets into it
you think I will gossip
but I read out a poem

stanzas as sharp as razors
when I wrote it in the bath
a storm was brewing in my heart
(my skin so bronze, not that it matters)

why do you have a lopsided view
your thoughts always sour
you find blemish in all that touches you
as you always have been doing

I will always keep that fence erect,
now that weeds are growing around that
obsolete phone. 

"I am still speaking into it, assuming 
my poem might inspire you to write a few songs"

Sunday, June 07, 2015

when thoughts muddle with heat

in that bowl of ice cream 
I try to find some coolness

I am frantic in this heat
random things springs in the mind
sultry weather, no one's fault
nature's way of testing us
to make us absorbed deeply into it

that man in that tiny birdbath
is that too much?
he can only skim the surface
not touch it without pain
his shirt discarded now

after that stain of salt shows in its grain
that birdbath can't contain his length
I shake my thoughts
scour that bowl with all my strength
I ache for more

"when the sky finally falls
I will hide under that now named manbath"

Monday, June 01, 2015

I want a red planet of my own

photo by Toni Frissell 
I need a nifty hat to keep me afloat 
just outside of my watery grave 
don't ever assume I have the privilege of misery

that thought is but stale 
where is my shoe, 
it is too late to contemplate 

remind me the chain of sequence 
(I was wearing white with five carat diamond)
 how I fell into water or was I pushed 

I am all mushed up in there 
akin to a boil in a cherry 
abhorring yet fascinating 

in the light of day 
don't let anyone get away 
I am not hidden in darkness 

"not again. never again. I will float out. 
I will not suffer the fate of Pluto"

Sunday, May 24, 2015

spectacular in the jagged edges of mind

Still Life, 1907 by John Frederick Peto 
steaming earth burns the feet
jagged edges of rock bleed them further

I am so intimate with my hat
yet I have that umbrella too
merciless sun hits me hard

I trudge along all alone
on that lonely dry path
my feet dragging in that forceful way

I thirst for water, to sustain me
but I fall flat on that ground
which embraces me to its breast

all my stuff now hooked to a nail
while I am but dust in the Universe
my soul walking any place it wishes

no bleeding marks anywhere,
no dried out bones either
not even a photograph on that wall

"maybe a memory in someone's mind
not that I expect that as I am gone now"

Sunday, May 17, 2015

where the night is without wind

Artwork by Ulrike Bolenz
stuck in the mud
her hands and feet

suppose she is searching 
the geometry of her origin

the lines, that curve, and an angle
throw her a lifeline

netted wings, broken at places
urge her to fly

her tears wet the ground
cementing her fate

"a seedling, perched on the earth
needles the mind, to prod, to incite"