Rings of Smoke

These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis.

nightmare

Posted on | March 10, 2008 | 1 Comment

Early morning darknesses are ambiguous,

Giving birth to uncalled thoughts,

Fears hidden deep in the recesses of the heart,

Which start flowing with the sluggish blood,

Inundating the veins,

Plaguing the brain, senses, life,

Becoming nightmares,

Fears…

Do you think of me yet?

Do you love me yet?

Or are you just trying to forget me?

As i am?

Have you already forgotten me?

I had a nightmare this morning,

Trying to sleep in the lightening grey of the dawn,

I dreamed, that we met, many years hence,

As strangers, not knowing each other,

And yet knowing,

Each charged with buried history,

Both with our own demons,

Floating behind our shoulders,

Recognising each other, and yet not recognising,

Perhaps, each thinking of the other as a mistake of the past,

A burden that can never be put down,

A pain that can never be forgotten,

Each looking at each other,

And thinking not of joy,

But of the pain we gave each other….

I had a nightmare today,

That in pushing each other away,

We have succeeded in killing the love we so wish never happened,

And what have we become?

Automatons, each living his own life,

Plodding through, incomplete,

Knowing it, but not believing it,

Strangers, bound to each other by a common umbilicus,

Pushed apart by fates and then pulled together again,

In a cinematic moment of cruel irony,

I see myself opening my mouth to speak to you,

And the words that flowed so easily once would not come,

Strangers again…

I feel that painful yearning again,

To touch you, feel you all around me, to kiss you,

Hold you in my arms, and to never let go,

But i can not do that anymore,

Never, because we are meeting as strangers,

With perhaps a spouse in the background,

And some children maybe..

We are not any longer sources of joy to each other,

Just liabilities, to be hidden,

Stains from our shared past,

To be pushed under the carpet…

The dawn is grey and steely,

And a brittle frozen sun promises to rise through the curtain of dew

As the birds start their clamour to welcome another unwelcome day,

And i wake up soaked in sweat,

To face another day, and the same question..

Why is hope so shortlived,

And disappointment so vast?

P.S.: just a nightmare. Closed for personal comments.

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Comments

One Response to “nightmare”

  1. e
    March 17th, 2008 @ 1:53 pm

    …

  • About The Line under the Blog Name

    The lines generally are from some poem which I have, at some point of time or the other, loved. I do not mean, by including them, to be snotty or pretentious- but I would love it if you could identify the lines, and take much joy if you were interested enough to search them and read the original poems. If not- you can ignore them.

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