Of unsent letters
I stammer,
I get stuck up with words every now and then.
These words,
They leave me stranded bare feet,
Caught up,
In a melee that goes hunting grunting down a sunken road.
I stand there and hear,
Noises from everywhere,
Each one distinctive,razor sharp.
At times,
Lying down on the floor of my roof top
and gazing at the starry night sky,
I would wonder what went wrong.
Why things got muddied up,
Blurred.
Incoherent.
And at those times,
Cigarette in hand,
And with a silent-black tar dripping- night sky looming overhead,
I would wonder if I could do away with the subtleties sometime,
For you.
I would wonder if my voice,
Changed,
Clear,
'un-muddied',
Could serenade you sometime,
Wash down on your senses.
Like the sight of an unearthed city,
Or of a lighthouse overlooking the sea,
Or books- old, wrinkled, yellowish,
Sprayed with poesy in a dwindling language you've just discovered a liking for.
Like the sound of raindrops falling on water,
Or like times when,
A thousand kilometers away from me,
You,
Lying down on the floor of your roof top,
Gaze at the starry night sky too.
I get stuck up with words every now and then.
These words,
They leave me stranded bare feet,
Caught up,
In a melee that goes hunting grunting down a sunken road.
I stand there and hear,
Noises from everywhere,
Each one distinctive,razor sharp.
At times,
Lying down on the floor of my roof top
and gazing at the starry night sky,
I would wonder what went wrong.
Why things got muddied up,
Blurred.
Incoherent.
And at those times,
Cigarette in hand,
And with a silent-black tar dripping- night sky looming overhead,
I would wonder if I could do away with the subtleties sometime,
For you.
I would wonder if my voice,
Changed,
Clear,
'un-muddied',
Could serenade you sometime,
Wash down on your senses.
Like the sight of an unearthed city,
Or of a lighthouse overlooking the sea,
Or books- old, wrinkled, yellowish,
Sprayed with poesy in a dwindling language you've just discovered a liking for.
Like the sound of raindrops falling on water,
Or like times when,
A thousand kilometers away from me,
You,
Lying down on the floor of your roof top,
Gaze at the starry night sky too.
Seems like U open the gates of heart free to flow through pen.Feeling,emotions and off course good writing.Depicting that feel u have which I carry too unknowably.
ReplyDelete^ *of course. :P
ReplyDeleteNicely written, though.
Or books- old, wrinkled, yellowish,
ReplyDeleteSprayed with poesy in a dwindling language you've just discovered a liking for.
Love the lines.
I am not very much of a poetry person, but this sounds good :)