Reveries

Reveries...
Your sunflower face....crouching in the meadow
Sunday morning
Hiding gleefully behind
Bushes...
While I call
Are you ready?
Playing hide and seek
Climbing trees...
Your valiant swing from
A flimsy branch
Broke your arm...
I don't even remember
How you fell
But oh yes I will forever
recall that dumb grin
Fringe over your eyes
After the fall.

The summer skits we play acted
You laughed at my Indian
Accent
I spoke such strange English.
How mortified to be corrected by you
And now it's so funny.

There you are...
Somewhere across an ocean around the corner of
A winding lane
And perhaps with a family
Sons you're raising like me
Or maybe little ladies.

I'm still stuck in the slow lane
A cul de sac from the past
Where you grin  mock adoration
Like a cheeky charming child monkey.

And love to you.
You're not alone
In my hall of angels.
I have A host of  childhood friends
I must serenade
Someday...
Seeing you as a little boy on your mama's shoulders today
In a chance photograph
On a sunny day
...made a song in my heart for you...my friend
May God be with you. ...

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(c) Amrita Valan 2015

No Fear

No Fear

The way towards freedom
Is to get the best
Out of the worst
Say it softly I've seen worse
Been worse
It's getting better already
Really,
Because...
I am trying to please myself
Comforting my loss
And sprung tears fall soft
To cool glowing cheeks
Not for the trouble I face
But the clean face
I put on it

They're currency
Treasuring me tenderly
Treating me well
A delicate grace
Missing from the world
With its obsessive
rat  race....

I embrace my loss
And cradle you in tears
Something good will
Always spring
From the wellspring of
Despair.
Sorry ...I'm not
Manic depressive
But I'm softly laughing
I didn't know
what being sorry or sad was
Childhood fairy tale castles
Turrets against absurd loneliness surround me still
The mind that minds it own
Will
That stills itself
Against trouble is selfmade steel
My steeples reach sleepless heights...
Moonwashed contemplation
The wise owl wings past with its
Orange eyes
Concentration
Focus incarnate
A baby bat circles
Intent for locus
Some thing scurries by...

The world is innocent singular
Unself conscious
Minding itself with
No hocus pocus
A
Pride of one...
Yes
Anything you'll ever do think or realize
That's of importance
Is of solitary nature.
Democrats are crowds basking
In sunshine and glory
Their power and motivation is
A storyline
Egalitarianism crafted by
Aristocrats
But the magic
Of the natural world
The real wonder of it all
Instinct sensing
Possibility
Turning to
Opportunity
Real magic leaves no room for error
So wipe away those tears
They have done enough time
For you
Served your purpose
Set the seeker free
Now go freely
Without fear
Fear is faking
To yourself
Fear is forgetting
Your strength
Fear is the easiest
Adversary
The strongest opponent
The mightiest shadow boxer
Fear is You
Turned against yourself.
Shake its hands turn it
Spin it shake it by the coattails
Leave it.

A new night
Of disclosure
Beckons...
Discovery  awaits.

Your world
Becomes your
Will
And
Testament.

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(c) Amrita Valan  2015

Perfect Acquisition

Perfect Acquisition

Perfect Acquisition

Rapacious the eye's gluttony
Insatiable swallowing the whole
Without hesitation.

This too is a form, a course of true love too.
You pick up the product...
Not sure of use
But view it as a prop
Enhancing you.

Do you think I speak of
Lust?
Lust is as honest and straightforward as liking someone
The strategies it  employs for revelations are social memes.
There's neither sophistication
Nor  sophistry.

Love has the true langue
Whose cipher is whimsical
Whose parole is bent
To the rules
It  invents.
Deceptively subtle
Hence sublime.
It takes as many paths as you'll hew through the dark woods
So it's donor roamer loser collector
A victim whining  for a master.

And there's love living in the
Deep end
The dark bottom of the slimy  well
...
Love
Needs to be validated
Acknowledged
Not just in reciprocity
In unrequitement
In  secrets held close to chest
But in rejection most violent
Or in becoming property.

What kills love is not being
The Perfect Acquisition
But
Perfect apathy
To the  one  possessed.

In these ways we proceed
No easy answer on our lips
And the day after the chase
After the
Fast fading sun...
Our innings  are declared
And then 
We know for sure...

The person who floats
Before our ecstatic eyes
With lids tight shut
Comatose
The person who flashes
An inner motion
Of deliriously ludicrous
Rush
We have loved him
Forever perhaps.

Foreclosures in love
Are rare as divination
Disclosures on deathbed
More likely.

The person I confess this to
Will be
Me.

And
The last person I see
Will be He
With eyes wide shut.

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(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Ripples

Ripples...

The pond on the other side of the road
Accross  my granny's house
Green....not with slime
But long stalked heart shaped leaves...
Mom tells us stories how she and her sisters would swim in it
Seems difficult to believe
That the pond was a clear pool
Of water once...

I hold the vertical bars of the window...stand on a stool
I'm five years old again,
Or six or seven...
My free uncluttered mind
Stockpiling delightful images
From a fresh clean world....
There are two sweet shops. ..on the right
In between a narrow winding lane
Leads to umpteen relatives friends
Always ready with smiles
To receive.
It's funny how
The world is both small
And big simultaneously
I'm lonelier now
Despite my freedom to move accross cities
Yet at five...my narrow boundaries
Encompassed an infinitely welcoming universe
I may not recall all the names...
But oh the warmth in the eyes
The radiant smiles...
They're my peaceful valleys
My soft undulating plains...
Those are thankful hossanas
Childhood friends. ..

It's nightfall...lying in one straight and narrow cot
Two kids on each side of granny...
Listening rapt to her talk
Tales from her childhood...
Rangoon and Burma...
And strange folks called the
British. ..
Of bread tasting like cake called buns...
Nothing now is as good it seems.

Granny in my dreams
I imagined you, in your times, your days...
Sloping hills and peaks bathed in sunny rays
Thus you broadened and stretched my inner space.

Outside in the darkest hour before dawn...
Up again I wake as a little one
Outside the window dances
A coconut tree
In a silent breeze just made for me...
A softest whisper sifting out of the forsaken night
Just before  breaking dawn streams bright...
Leave me behind my little one
Forgetting all enjoy your sun...
A day will...
A day will come
Then the moon will shine
Brighter than a thousand suns
And you won't close your eyes again...
To darkness to sorrow to Teacher pain
The child has dreamt on joyful plains...Sunlit lands.
Dark knows heaven's Immanance...
Light passes through, that which alone remains
My ancestors, in it
We are all joined
In a long line of Shadows
Behind this light
So beautiful.
Permanent.

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(c) Amrita Valan 2015

A Game of Hearts

A Game of Hearts

Your heart...
My head in my hands.
My heart...
In your two hands.
End it.
I don't enjoy it..

I want a home in your head......
Not a port of call.
Not a waiting room
Not a dark and ugly cul de sac
Garbage strewn.

Walling up the wails in the room
Of stoicism feels good.
Heroic even.

Later in the night
The moon calls on me
Without card
Or a ring of the doorbell.

Standing in the corridor
Watching the night sky
Feeding on pain
Feeling each howl
The forsaken moon burns
My blue hot veins.

This is how night feels
When you have a heart
And didn't keep it close
To your soul
But let it drift apart.

The moon grins evil...
drifts away
Aroused by the carousel of dark clouds.
Well they'll stray.

Moon hear the wind
That's our lost soul
Who stole a heart ...
Ripped it
from the whole.

Wind ...
Throws halfhearted clouds in disarray
That heart is precious. ..
Its my whole life
And it isn't for play.

My heart is in my head
My soul is in my breath
I'll make my own bliss...
I'll lie on my own bed.

And your unbreakable heart...

Wasn't too hard to please

...it was just too
Hard.
I can't play this  game
Of torture and tease.

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(c) Amrita Valan 2015

A Moon Ago

Gosh! these poetry contests ...I'm moon struck...the image challenge, then yesterday's poem... and now again it seems the sly slice of moon creeps into my write!

A Moon Ago

So cold...your lovely silver stripes
My verandah's zebra grows wild...
Comely ...hesitant...watchful.

If I  have you stuck like a tattered post-it
In  the back door of my mind
Cooling your heels in my freezer
This wild night of frozen stars
Thaws your rarest memoirs
From afar..

And the moon sly crescent eye
Winks me another glimmer of  madness
Insolvent

So we roam again
Those of us with restless hearts
And shorn wings
We roam again tonight

borne upon angels
with cloven hooves.

The moon visits my loneliest verandah
Showering music... lyrical melodies
But you're light years away
Just looking at it....
Memories glazed...in the refinery of
sophistication
With a frosty sadness...

My moon is a tender beacon
Bright and hopeful debutante
Night falls asleep
In the hallway.

The dance floor was empty
Or the dance
Never happened.

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(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Whitewood

Whitewood mind
Worms worrying its
Chewy texture...
Tunneling in furrowed brows.

Dark ebony glaze
Rose wood heart
Knobbling hurts
upon its knees groveling...
Secret whorls
softly fold in essence
Of
Memories.

Sandalwood
Soul stirred wondrous
scent of
Loss
Now here now
There
Or not
A fragrance
Felt...

Mind lingers on
heart carries on
Soul...moves the
Wheel of life
Fortunes ascending
To  zenith
Gently descending. ..

The waiting room of
Descendants.

The sound of something
Scares me that I do not know
A change immutable
Has occurred
The key turning... has  unlocked...
The screeching door
Reluctance reverberates.

Sarcophagus of sacrilege
The mummy will rise
If you choose
To Consecrate
What has died
Most unnaturally.

Fresh blood is summoned
Sacrifice called for
You have undulated my mind
Beyond borders of the familiar
Become my familiar
And Shall I
Yes
Reciprocate?

In the dark tomb the bandaged apparition beckons
It's alive
With my erstwhile blood and tears
I'm pale a sheet of paper
Formless cutting edge of
Space and time.

Losing dimensional validity
Rapidly.
Retreating from Reality city...
Into a lost world
That cuts the jugular.

Effect determining cause.
Means justifying end.
Pleasure doting on pain.
This is the core reality
The subtle terror.
No Escape valve
And pressure
Built up
Escalates.

All  rights reserved
(c)  Amrita Valan 2015