Pictures and Poems - Lockdown Love, Feb-2021

 

The few poems are taken from a motley of poems. They are chosen without any preference among prolific writers. The other online poets who logged in from Tirupati, Bangalore, Kerala, and Mumbai are Harita B, Manjusri Gopinath Nair, Usha Bhattaram, Sandra James, Salini Vineeth, Rghav Venkata Iyer and the in-person ones were: Anonymous and Avinash (read by Harshin), Sudheendra and Nivedita.

Christal Ferrao: In Gratitude

To the prayer time that helped me cope,
And gave my troubled mind hope To the cravings and skills at the kitchen,
That provided much needed satisfaction, To my parents who shared their days and nights with me,
Eating what I cooked and reading my writings and poetry, To the varied thoughts in my mind,
Inspiring me to write as a reflection and rewind, To the colours that helped me paint well,
Like an artist with a unique hue,
To all the people and activities that kept me moving and made life meaningful,
I say a sweet Thank You. It was like a unique soul searching,
To find oneself amidst the confusion,
To understand theology, culinary arts,
And new words using the meter and rhyme scheme as a poetic justification. The aroma of the spices,
Still makes my mouth water,
The silent spiritual reflections,
Helped me understand life, creation and our creator. The simple living,
Told me what truly matters,
The wordplay in writings
Said language has vibrant wonders. I guess this time has changed our attitude,
Amidst the chaos there was a strange solitude,
Hence, some write words of gratitude

Juhi: The Grommet

The beach is lined. A kaleidoscope of surfboards Stand guard. Straight and tall. Sentinels under the Sun. Like long black insects, A line-up of surfers Lie in wait, their legs Dangling in the water. Streams from the Sun, Dance on the ocean. Making it sparkle, and Throw up gold dust. A late surfer, Runs down the beach. Her surfboard in hand, Silhouetted in the light. Slowly, but surely It begins. Mountains of water, Rise and fall. And the chase is on! Arms paddle like windmills. And. You are enveloped. In a tunnel of blue. Like flowing glass, the water Washes over you. Streams through you. Your eyes feel the sting, and your tongue, The graininess of the salt. The restless wave, Shatters onto the beach. Into a trillion crystal pieces And a clap of thunder. And again, you try. To become one. With That piece of glass, That flows and roars. Paddling, carving, Gliding, effortlessly it seems. But the wave, Does not like the intrusion. You are pulled out. Like a cork From a champagne bottle. There is foam. And again. Paddle, Carve, Pump Balance. Glide. Till you fly. With unimaginable strength, the wave Foams and spits like a racehorse. While you, the small jockey hangs on. For dear life, enjoying the ride.

Nam: .warning label in caption. I will push you away, golden-eyed beloved,
And it is not a challenge
It is not a test of your love or
My pride, it is suffering and
Wanting to spare you it is
Excising my less lovely parts and
Curating what your sweet sleepy eyes see (I will say no just to say no
Just to watch you hear it) When you touch my warm skin there is
Hot shame under it, a threat of violence
A core of cold fears older than I am
Colder than the fear of striking
The wrong note against the temple
Bell of your throat (Sometimes I will clench my jaw and lie
Sometimes, I don't want to be better) I am slow to forgive, golden-eyed beloved,
I hold insects under my ribs I hope
Never to shine a light on
Sometimes, I do not know what I am and
Will seek to shape myself between your flint tipped fingers
Hoping for sparks in the dark to Illuminate my wretched form (Those days I will adore you
And abhor you in equal measure) I will try to tell you these things, and falter
Golden-eyed beloved, whose abode is in my holy heart,
Afraid to trust you in a bright and terrible future
Where you will take the unlovely parts I’ve shown you
Gather them for kindling and
Light a pyre in your lover's heart.

Reshma: Song of love!

From this deathbed;

I can sing my love song.
At this parting time,
I can sing this unstrung note.
On this last minute,
I can recite my pain of parting.
For this Passover,
As a lover who lost the spirit,
I may be entombed in this soil.
But remember,
I am the quill inked with your love,
I am the epic engraved with your love!
So I can fill this graveyard,
With the sweetest memories;
As this is not my death:
But the death of my rented wings.
And this soil cannot ensnare my love,
As it reside abode with the glittering beads.
Those flowers are happy to accompany me,
With the sweet whisperings of our love.
Those bees are murmuring around me,
About the nectar which kissed my soul.
And this elegiac note of my death,
Will not be the ashes of memories;
But it's the beginning of an eternal journey,
Which anticipate our union of love,
But I wish the journey should not end!
As you are my elixir,
Who should not be captured by this icy hands.
And as a song of love,
I can reside in your heart forever.
And from this deathbed,
I can hear your song of love,
With the murmuring bees
And adorning flowers.
And I can accompany your song of love,
As a silhouette forever from this graveyard.