Skip to main content

The Sale


I have a broken heart and a half- written poem for sale,
Worth a stallion.
You can see to it
that it's best of quality,
Preserved from the long battles 
And huge armada.
I know the market is dull
Enough to pay attention
To a broken heart and a half-
Written poem,
But I see curious eyes waiting to
Open their money bag,
Tell them they can mend the heart,
If possible,
After all my attempts that turned vain,
Mend it not to look mended,
Mend it to look like a beating one
Perhaps a 3am conversation 
And love over wine may work,
Or a lullaby to sleep.
And complete the poem,
With a sour end or bloodshed,
For my muses are out on a pleasure trip,
Refusing to be back to the world
Of melancholy,
Condemning my contemplations.
As the vicinity became jubilant,
Preparing for festivities,
There I see him, with a huge money bag.
Make the deal with that blue-eyed one,
His eyes are sad enough to buy 
My goods.
Let him have it and tell him what I said.
As I leave riding a black stallion 
And a pouch of extra coins,
I see a perpetual sadness
Overtaking the blue-eyed man
Holding my broken heart and half-written poem close to him.

A.C

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I Let Myself Sink Into You

  I let myself sink into you,  Taking deep dips,  Not letting myself float.  You kept the rhythm of ocean Calm and said the waves To come another day.  I got lost in the tranquility of your arms,  Seeking an abode for eternity,  Reaching out in bliss.  Maybe If I could live here forever,  I would dance at a different pace,  guided by the warmth of your heart. I see no lines seperating us,  Shutting down the little fragments of overthinking,  I place you close to my bosom,  Never to let you go.  Making all the falsities disappear,  I'm riveted by the hold of your hands,  the sheer joy on your face  At the movement of my eyelashes,  Making me fall all over again.  You asked me if you could join in my agony,  If you could make me think of  Things of joy, Checking my pulse and it's  dramas,  You dived deep into me,  Untangling the mysterious cords,  that encircled me....

Child is the Father of the Man

Childhood is a phase where we feel everything deeply. Every traumatic, as well as happy incidents, get imprinted in us during this stage that the memories of those determine our further life. Rajesh Pillai's Mili is such a character who was deeply affected by her mother's illness & her death. Mili is a representative of many children whose childhood gets lost in the struggle to cope with the indigestive-syllabuses & who are forced to believe that a failure in it would determine what they are. The slow and beautiful transformation of Mili from an introverted, depressed girl to an independent inspiring person is touching. With the help of a handful number of right people who are ready to go extra miles for her, Mili steps out of her comfort zone by breaking her shell of insecurities which is as old as her. Mili makes sure that the children that she teaches are not judged by their inabilities or marks like she was but their small skills that no one actually notices. She al...

THE SILENT CRY

Darkness ...at  its  zenith Silence.. at  the sound 's lowest decibel.. I wrapped  myself up into the blanket tears rolled down my cheeks.. I cried.. I cried in the dark silence silently.. No voice of my cry.. I bite my hands.. I cried silent loudly.. I cried for the dreams unfulfilled I cried thinking of my unpredicted future.. I cried thinking of my unknown death.. I cried thinking of my  inabilities I cried  thinking of  the gifts  not given to me I cried  thinking of my people.. And I complained  God Almighty for the miseries given to me.. ... I   wiped  off my tears.. I smiled. Perfect... Nothing is better than this silent loud cry..!! A.C