Monday, February 20, 2012

Screaming Defiantly at Bullets

I loved you like a man,
Loved sunlight, trapped in a cave.
I who was a king,
Learned to love you as a slave.
Like the orphan loved the memory,
Of his barely remembered mother.
The veteran sitting slowly drunk,
Remembering the hand of his brother.
Who carried him to safety,
Through the wires and the pickets.
Who whispered to him and stood,
Screaming defiantly at the bullets. 
I thought love meant never being a fighter,
You whispered it would only take me higher.
But my limbs were made of flesh,
My weapons made of hope and truth.
And hope cannot survive,
All the battles that rage in you.
There is a man out there,
Who will love you more than I.
But you'll make him feel wretched,
And try and try and try.
Now I've packed up my light and must be going.
I am a comet unwelcome in your sky.
Once the secret behind your smile,
Now the ugly truth leaking out your eye.
And this will make you angry.
This will take you further out of reach.
But this is what I've learned,
From whatever lesson you were trying to teach.
But I remember how we moved together
I never wished to do this alone.
So I'll take all this empty space,
And once again make it home.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Twenty Nine

Remember this day,
When hope returned.
And love enveloped you,
Like a shawl stitched,
By your mother's hands,
Especially for your shoulders.
Remember this day,
When your father looked at you,
Through eyes foggy with flu,
But eyes shining with pride,
Like fires who refuse to dry the dew,
That glittered like snow,
Upon your lonely mountain top.
Where you are alone only until,
You turn around.
They are all there with you.
The living and the others,
The whispers of your wisdom.
The old lady who loved you,
Like the child the Goddess,
Never pushed from her womb.
The old man who knew you,
To be the spitting image of him,
Even though he never found the words,
To tell you he loved you.
For the old lady who died paralyzed,
But who dances through your fears,
And your pain, and your sorrow.
Who dances and cooks and loves,
You, the only grandson, she ever knew.
Like the ghosts of the dogs that sit,
Wagging tails made of joy,
Around your ever open palms.
Like the old man who loved you,
Almost as much as he loved his fame.
Don't get lost in the world storm.
Remember this day, remember you name.
You who were named for the coming sun,
For the first rays of every day.
Shake off this shell you have become.
Return to yourself, Arunoday.
Remember this day.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

At the End of Winter

I waited for you to come for me,
All day.
But you had so many things to do,
You'll say.
It's hard to love someone who prefers,
To be away.
The sun set far too slowly.
The eagles leapt into the pinking sky,
To play.
One landed on my balustrade,
And looked at me with a curious directness.
I got it some food from the kitchen.
But I guess it didn't like the taste of my tandoori.
Who can say?
What eagles want and what they see,
When they sometimes perch so silent
And judgmental on my balcony.
I am haunted by birds.
I was hollowed by her.
I am the winter burning,
Down to the summer sulphur.
I am the river turning to dust,
Littered in the ways left of me.
How I ran through the hills,
On my way to the sea.
The bears who danced in my waters,
The eagles who soared above me.
I turned every rock I came upon,
Into a lover or a slave.
And though I crashed against them,
With all my elemental fury.
I turn slowly to vapor while they survive,
Laughing with what remains of me.