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When I say free...

I mean very free verse. So free that you might wonder whether it is verse. But I have been writing these poems regularly for a few months now, usually in the mornings. These little spurts of creativity help me face increasingly stressful days at work and give me a reason to feel good about life, on a day-to-day basis.

The Ride
Outside my balcony was a fluffy cloud
"Hop on, time for a ride," it said.
I jumped over the rails, nimbler than I thought
Fell headlong into its cushiony softness.
We soared towards the orange streaked sky
Cold wind swept my hair, my nose tip froze
I waved at a flock of birds, they nodded at me
We swerved sharply as a plane passed by
(Deafening noise, btw, I am now hard of hearing)
We met a minor God, rushing to an appointment
We talked, my cloud and I--
Water bearing is not as easy as it looks
Bombarded by hills, zapped by lightning!
It talked of the trauma, the hard life
I talked, about nothing in particular.
Eventually, silence befell us
We watched the sky turn orange, pink, blue and indigo.
We flew for hours, free and light
It was mostly peaceful, this ride of mine.


Night Out at Mumbai
Watched a play at the NCPA
Talked of dreams at Gateway
Landed at the Taj, as always
Remembered the good ol' days
Lunches and dinners at fav places
Debates with once loved faces
Crowded taxi and clean highway
Empty city and lashing rains
Moments of Magical Mumbai
Relived lovingly, all over again!

Sunday Escape
My nephew brought a bean bag
Old patched up, decrepit, deflated
Completely useless to sit on but--
Perfect as an oversized pillow!
I rest my head on the clouds
By the balcony, on the floor
Let light play kaleidoscope
Over my drugged and closed eyes
And escape to magical worlds
On this lazy Sunday afternoon!

Morn with Character
It's a morn with character
Skies pregnant with clouds
Trees washed, stiff winds
Chatter of the wind chimes
A parakeet flies by
A startling streak of green
White hair on old men walking
The yellow of a school bus
A silent black car rolls in
Ah the sun peeps out
Moment is gone.

Could've Been a Movie
Dogs of privilege in rain coats
Office-goer begging autos
Rain-soaked loney playground
House shrounded in gloom
Could've been an art house movie
Quietly desperate, slightly hopeful
But it's just another rainy day
Nothing poignant, only blah
I got to get up and go
And face Mumbai traffic.
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Comments

PaRaDoX said…
the ride was delightful and could've been a movie was nostalgic
November 1, 2012 at 2:49 PM
PriyatRaj said…
Thank you Paradox. :-) I checked up your blogs but unfortunately i don't understand telugu, but I realize that you are a poet too! Great getting good feedback from a fellow poet.
November 3, 2012 at 10:28 AM
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