Thursday, 14 May 2020

Thirty-two floors above

I realised how insignificant life could be
As I watched you walk about, 
Yes you, the one with a full-blown ego. 

You think you are important. 
Ruining other people's lives, their dreams. 
You don't care, I thought, as I watched you walk by. 

I was watching the bus, yellow, with its tiny wheels rolling. 
Ready to take you to work or wherever you want to go. 

Thirty-two floors above,  seated here near the window, 
I felt I was almost touching the heavens. 
Yes, I was near the clouds. 

I wondered what your life would become,
As you flow through life, and what you would do, away from your suit. 
But I decided not to worry, as I was thirty-two floors above. 

- Robes of a Muse

Sunday, 3 May 2020

You lingered

I didn't ask for much.
That was the bitter truth.
I gave you my time,
I gave you my love. 
I didn't ask for much,
You see.

You lingered,
You still do in a way,
That peripherial manner
You dance around 
The boxing ring.
You lingered.

I see you,
Quite frequently, at that 
And stop myself feeling,
Walking down the memory lane.
As I am a witness to your beauty. 

  - Robes of a Muse 

For the ungrateful

I cannot let this cancer grow
any longer. 
So, I must speak. 
As my spirit grows stronger.
You never cared, 
pretended to be there.
But,
You cut me behind my back.
Your blood was all a lie
Not thicker than water or wine.
You are a swine,
A canker in my mind.
Stink.
Profound! 
Spreading in the midnight air.
I dare say, I no longer care. 
I let go,
Release the bonds,
For I must find
My peace of mind. 
So, go.
Go out of my mind.
So, go.
For I mustn't let you grow.

    - Robes of a Muse

Oh privileged one!

You sit at home
feeling sorry for yourself.
A comfortable home,
with an AC, a fridge and online shopping. 
They still toil in the sun,
sweeping and cleaning,
harvesting their crop;
feeling responsible for what they do.
Others at home, unable to feed
children lay hungry, weeping daily. 
Do you still feel sorry,
Oh privileged one!
You have more,
what they have none. 

  - Robes of a Muse 

Thursday, 9 April 2020

Working from home

What day is it today?
A Monday, a Tuesday or a Friday?
I no longer feel the days go by.
The week, feeling like an eternal blur.
The weekend came and I didn't know.
The clock stopped striking

And the sun, forever glowed.
The koel coos,
Perched on the mango tree.
Leaves rustling
Ever so softly.
What day is it today?
I have lost count. 
I no longer know.
I no longer know...

  - Robes of a Muse