You live like a song inside my head.
All loves are not meant for eternity - I have
lived you, I have inhaled you like
poison till you were nothing but music
and sin.
Goodbyes are harder. I don't want to
hold your hand to the airport, kiss
you off to other people's dreams. I
will steal you away to the untamed heart
of the Bundelkhand, to the red stone
ruins of primitive temples, I will
mix you with earth and ash till your body
blazes like the midland sun.
I will chant your name to the rocks
and thorny crags, till you
are a nascent god.
But now, I have returned
to the town I was born, to the dead
end of the street, the decrepit
house of my parents, the familiar stench
of whiskey and clutter and tuberose and
no love. My days are spent
like a stale newspaper. On wasted, hungover
mornings, I am a caged animal
in pain, when the circus
tents are pulled down. Blinded by thirst, I claw
and claw through this numbness, till
my whole consciousness is only
the bass of your voice, the universe
folds itself into the shape of your
tongue, your words my only
salvation.
I don't even hear the words. It's your
voice that fills my fevered brain
and lulls me to sleep.
I tremble.
I cannot remember how far behind
I lost you, how long ago. These midnights
frighten me. Hold me against
your chest till these hallu-
cinations pass, hush me when my frenzied
words break into terror, terror, I can
take no more. Whisper your name in my
ears, until
faith is reborn.
Live
like a song inside my head.
34 comments:
overflowing passion. man.
simply adore it when you post poems like this. adore it!!
oh, and madhya pradesh indeed.
I feel retarded. Shit!
Deja vu.
i can almost feel and touch the emotion, its almost tangible.
overwhelming.
first i thought its tring tring, but i guess its not.
Extreme Emotions...Passionate no doubt. Somehow successfully reminds Me of the Denver Classic - "Like a Sad Song". A Flurry of Images...somehow also Reminds Me of Lynch's "The Lost Highway". I Must say though that the Two Works I Mentioned are Pretty much different from each other...in terms of the different ways of approach...and yet They are just the same in certain basic ways. We go on ahead at Times coz We have to...Survival Strategies. We live for the Moment...and yet, I Guess - if I have to cut this short, I would just say that if I had to this - I would Try and have this adapted in Terms of Cinema - I would have Your Past shot in Colour, while Your Present I would have it in Black and White.
u know, what i just said about this one. its lovely. plus template sorta works damn well too.
orgasmic!
loved it!
overflow of emotions...
touched me a lot, commenting on this piece would take away the very essence i felt from after reading it. No point in undeciphering the words and bringing out the meaning.
Beautiful
Mad, surreal, dark, throbbing with pain...
Despair always ends up multiplying the Craving, -- the vicious cycle which ultimately leads to madness! Almost an addiction... huh?
PS. ;)
My GOD. Can you write or WHAT. I have NEVER read poetry this good, outside of leatherbound books. Ahona comes close, but this is just sublime.
'I will
mix you with earth and ash till your body
blazes like the midland sun.
I will chant your name to the rocks
and thorny crags, till you
are a nascent god.'
This bit is just so powerful. I envy the person who could rouse such intense passion in a person. This is very very Sylvia Plath. Brilliant stuff. JUDE is very blessed.
It's like nails dragging on a blackboard. You cant help but listen.
I already told you what I think!
I did too. Shall I reiterate?
I like the third stanza.
The rest I don't.
But I don't think this comes even close to being one of the better things you've written. It doesn't. At all.
IIT Bombay student Anupam Biswas 5th Year Mechanical Engg is suffering from Colukabki (caused due to excessive NBD and depression) a disease very rarely found (3 in a billion). His condition is very pathetic and the treatment is very expensive, obviously his parents are not able to afford his treatment. Google has agreed to pay 1 paisa after each time this message is forwarded. So please pass this onto ur friends.
I loved this poem.
The first stanza is a poignant summation of lots of things which we all go thru and somewhere I thought u put into words my own feelings. It is "universally personal"- paradox, it is. But life's like that.
Goodbyes are indeed harder.
"I don't even hear the words. It's your
voice that fills my fevered brain
and lulls me to sleep.
"
I cannot remember how far behind
I lost you, how long ago."
amazing lines.....
Write more.. I am waiting to read... :))
woooh...that was something!!
the first and the second one were the best of the lot!!
u at ur passionate best!!
go girrrrl!!
hey. it's rather difficult to come across a blog with nice poems on it. mane poems that do their work silently, without much ado bout anything, most importantly bout their subject. this one nails it. and when you can be so unassuming and direct and moving at the same time with a love poem, its worth something speacial. count me in as a fan.
i see jijo has flooded you with allusions from his recent explorations. like lost highway which i showed him, nad the movie that it inspired him to plan making. i shant tell you what this reminds me of, cuz images unseen and sounds unheard have no meaning in reference. but for me too, this makes me wanna give you a few films to watch, and maybe songs too, when we find some time.
and once more, thank you for sending me the link. and for scrapping me to start with :)
achcha linked u up from my wordpress blog.
loved it loved it loved it!
:D
hehhe! love such stuff!!
peace & love
Jeevy
It started long back with 'Esmeralada'. I did not know it was a lesbian poem then. But fascinated i was, by someone who wrote her words like a free river in floods. Later she told me.
Today while i was browsing again, looking at the girl who's grown too fast. Came once again across a poem, that i wrote one september and you provided the contrapunt.
And i see, she has grown better. A lot better with words, and pictures she paints without drawing a line.
Good to see you again! But what name do i call you now?
Amadeus Wolfgang Mozart once said,"the music is not in the notes,but in the pauses between"...That's exactly how I feel when I read your poem...a sense of melancholy pervades it..and yet,its spirit is encompassed by its timeless quality.Well Done!!!
Seriously good stuff. Why does it read as if it's in Urdu? An inner music?
The reason i read this was "23 comments".
I thought, "Must be overrated."
But it's not.
This is Brilliant work. Very very personal too...
"But now, I have returned
to the town I was born, to the dead
end of the street, the decrepit
house of my parents, the familiar stench
of whiskey and clutter and tuberose and
no love."
I love it because I can relate. It's very intense. Perhaps too intense. You have expressed yourself wonderfully. In a way that very few people can. In mere paragraphs you have painted a very prominent being. But perhaps a little too prominent.
Like I said, I can relate. But it's so in-your-face that it's scary. I hope i'm still making sense. And i hope you understand what i mean. :)
I read it again. Did I tell you you are Brilliant? If I have, then let me put it another way...You are Brilliant!
a commenter nicknamed elendil, and writing like this?
"..the decrepit
house of my parents, the familiar stench
of whiskey and clutter and tuberose and
no love. My days are spent
like a stale newspaper..."
-- all I can say is yes, and hello from hera at Caf.
oh, and you remind me, somehow, of the heroine in Naach, for whom (both film character and actress) I have a great, though distant, admiration.
Powerful stuff. Rocked me right off ma chair !
Here's to more
Cheers
Monidipa, you have arrived as a poet.
Monidipa,
you have arrived as a poet.
Hi
This is Raksha Bharadia, author of Me A handbook for life (Rupa & co).
Submissions invited for Chicken Soup for the Indian Teenage Soul and Chicken Soup for the Indian Mother's Soul
Chicken soup for the Indian soul will be released by December 2007.
I am now compiling Chicken Soup for the Indian Teenage Soul and Chicken soup for the Indian Mother's Soul for Westland publishing house.
Selected stories will carry the contributors' names but there wll be no payment made. Copyright, however, stays with the authors.
Recipe for a Chicken Soup for the Soul® story
They are inspirational, true stories about love, learning, overcoming obstacles, reaching goals, something readers can relate to and learn from without feeling criticised or judged, about ordinary people doing extraordinary things. Stories that help readers discover basic principles they can use in their own lives. They are personal and often filled with emotion, drama and vivid images that stir the senses.
They have a beginning, middle and an ending that often closes with a punch, creating emotion rather than simply talking about it.
They have heart, but also something extra—an element that makes us all feel more hopeful, more connected, more thankful, more passionate and better about life in general. A story that causes tears, laughter, goose bumps or any combination of these. A good story covers the range of human emotions. The most powerful stories are about people extending themselves, or performing an act of love, service or courage for another person.
Guidelines creation
1. Tell an exciting, sad or funny story about something that has happened to you or someone you know. Make sure that you introduce the character(s).
2. Tell your story in a way that will make the reader cry, laugh or get goose bumps. Don't leave anything out — how did you feel?
3. The story should start with action; it should include a problem, issue or situation. It should include dialogue and the character should express their feelings though the conflict or situation. It should end in a result, such as a lesson learned, a positive change or pay-off.
4. Above all, let it come from your heart.
What a Chicken Soup for the Soul® story is NOT.
1. A sermon, an essay or eulogy.
2. A term paper, thesis, letter or journal entry.
3. About politics or controversial issues.
4. A "My Grandma Just Died, and Let Me Tell You What A Wonderful Person She Was" or "Let Me Tell You About My Disease or Operation" or "I Gave a Bum Some Money, Aren't I Incredible?" or "Why My Mother Is the Best Mother" or a personal testimony that may mean nothing to the reader.
Story Specifications
Stories should be non-fiction, ranging in length between 300-1200 words.
Chapters / Themes for Chicken Soup for the Indian Teenage Soul
Relationships; Friendships; On Family; On Love and Kindness; On Learning; Tough Stuff; Making a Difference; Going for it / Reaching for Goals
Chapters / Themes for Chicken Soup for the Indian Mother's
On Love; On a Mother's Guiding Hand; A Mother's Courage; On Motherhood; Becoming a Mother; Special Moments; Miracles; Letting Go; A Grandmother's Love; Thank You, Mom.
Submissions to rakshabharadia@gmail.com or bharadiaraksha@hotmail.com before 15th December 2007.
fellowjulygurl says this lil yjing dus wonders to words,to language,to feelings ,to live.
loved d salivation part madly:)
fellowjulygurl says this lil yjing dus wonders to words,to language,to feelings ,to live.
loved d salivation part madly:)
WOW! amazing, beautifully written, such lovely flowing words...and the last two lines just stumped me.
awesome...really have no words in praise.
This is an amazing work... Free verse at ts best with a whirlwind of passion!
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