Skip to main content

Your Dreams


I dream your dreams
And your dreams are so beguiling,
I tried to bring out realities
To yours,
But you were so trapped in the world of illusion.
I painted a warm picture for you,
To place it in your dream.
The picture of a lone nymph
Whose hairs are caressed by wind,
Whose feet is pedicured by the easy waters,
Who doesn't seem to realise the lurking eyes behind.
You were wallowing in the gold shore,
Collecting shells to fill your pockets
While I was drowning in the water.
You were the Santa, I was the lost reindeer,
You were the eminent bridge, I was the glitch,
You were the charming tulip, while I was the thorn,
You were the spectator's choice, I was the banned play,
You were a classic tale, I was a silly poem,
You were a popular author while I was an anonymous poet.
This is how our dreams differed.
You remained in the web of colours and aura,
I tried to separate you,
But the trap was very sharp and strong.
You remained in the symphony of verses,
Get out, it's a trap
Like my warm picture.
And you didn't listen,
Your ears were having a frenzy dance at the oracles.
But when you harmoniously live at the rhythm of your flowers,
I will play a wild song,
Unsynchronising your rhythm
Making you fall and pass out.

A.C

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reminders

I want you to remember The photograph, you loved On the wall, That reminds me Of the last spring Where the potted sunflowers At our home smiled And the hanging creepers Mumbled, Of the girl who was looking For someone. You saw a thousand figures Dancing in her pupils A Mexican woman in Her huipil, A drunken man with his Lyre; Looking for the right Strings,And A peahen waiting to mate. You admired the Vine stems heading North In the picture, The cheap beads that The girl wore And the broken bridge Behind her, From which a fish Jumped for a self introduction. And when you remember Your dear picture, I want to remind You of the Coffee cup that tasted Your lips, The laundry drugged By your smell And the mirrors that Reflected your images. And you should know that The sunflowers no longer smiled And the creepers were silent Till yesterday. But today when The rain sprinkled its drops I see clearly the pupil Of the girl, Dark and intense,...
Post a Comment
Read more

Madeline’s Mirror

  Madeline’s mirror told her she’s fat, It appalled at her shapeless dress, Covering a chunk of flesh. She looked at her broad shoulders  And big breasts,  which reminded her of a pile of  clothes that no longer fits her. But Madeline smiled and applied her eyeliner effortlessly. Her mirror sneered at her  chafing thighs kissing each  other when she moves. Madeline’s mirror found her  plush lips contradicting  the pair of flesh  on either side of it. It spotted the two chins fighting for space like contestants in the combat zone. Madeline admired her freckleless skin, and applied her favourite lipstick. The mirror reflected  her flabby arms  complementing her  saggy belly. Madeline moved closer  to her mirror,  which still in oblivion,  started to produce sympathetic smiles at her legs. It mirrored how her legs carry all the weight, hiding under her flowy dress. Appreciating her silky hair and perfectly manicured...
Post a Comment
Read more

Murmurings of Married Women

  I hear murmurings from the graveyard In the West of the town,  Of married women,  Dead and disappeared years ago.  I wonder what a time they had,  What a life they lived.  Their husbands weep and weep and forget them,  They praise how they looked after their women,  Covering in glittery gold,  Buying them silly silks,  Giving makeup for a make-over.  But still, the women murmur,  Their voices seem to break the edges of tombs.  They force the sun to dry out the flowers on them quickly.  I lowered my face and listened to the tombs,  It seems their lipstick was revolting,  Their eyelashes lifted to show the desperation.  They talk about the lies they had to live through,  In fear of strangers' pointing fingers on getting a hint on their unhappy marriages.  They call out their abusive partners,  Told me to look for the broken bangles behind the kitchen for proof,  The blood-stained clo...
Post a Comment
Read more