I am not a poet – far from it. My mother was a poet through and through, my daughter Simran is a poet. But I have attempted to write occasionally. Here are my feeble attempts
I used to often start stare into space. Actually i wasn’t staring at anything, but literally detaching myself from my surroundings. While a bit unnerving for those who think i am staring at them – i was not, actually in a state of being liberated from the physical. Now I sometimes sit in a dark place with my eyes closed……
When there is light, I see walls
I see color, I see race
I am bound by the world around me
In darkness I am free
Unbound, no walls, no color
There is nothing, nothing in my way
In darkness I am free
______________________________________________________
Dec 11th, 2020 : it’s my mothers 3rd death anniversary and I am thinking of her a lot. Small poem I wrote on this day:
To Mummy Dec 11th 2020
They say time will heal everything But with a lingering grief so deep And so many words left unsaid I still long for one last hour with you
________________________________________________________________________
As I go through a transition in my life and relationship, I want to try and express my thoughts as poetry
Reality
Our realities are unreal
to each other
stuck between the senses
and the depths
you say one thing
but claim to mean another
I can only hear
the sound of your voice
not the voices
in your head
Roots
sometimes here
sometimes there
no attachments anywhere
not where you are from
so always alone
a plant without roots
can it carry on?
time to stick a flag in the ground
and know who I live for now
before the plant withers away
fairytale
the frog is back
what comes ever after?
I can hardly see
what's in front of me
time to relinquish the past
distinguish myself
and find a new path
let the frog start again
and be what he always was
in the next book
of the fairytale