A girl and her boat

 

 

Certainly, you are right. I cannot deny,

I am fresh off the boat,

Or many boats, in fact.

Upon each one I sailed far and wide

-As per the Captain’s desire-

I saw the sun

And people

Rise and set

On many horizons.

Hear, hear!

Here, here.

I am

Yet

Drifting

Towards the treasure, I remember the Indweller,

In seas always changing,

I chose to go off the map, uncharted.

The dialects that ripple off my tongue

And the voices that quake from within

Are not mine

But that which is borrowed from our great Mother and her children.

तत् त्वम् असि

We are

The waves,

A tsunami,

Whatever floats your boat

from Cape Comorin to Romania

The DNA of Pangea.

Come, take a tour, with this sailor-

-Fresh off boat, plane or spaceship, crossing perceived borders and barriers.

 

 

© Copyright 2017 A Cup of Strawberries

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Published in: on May 25, 2017 at 1:20 AM  Comments (2)  
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Beautiful pain

You are always just around the corner.

My surprise.

My regular.

When we meet

Eye to eye

The sorrow in you

Touches mine.

I don’t want to romanticise you

But aren’t you a beautiful thing

The way you break me from within

And create a hollow,

A hollow of hope

Which the tears of this world fill.

The world’s oceans

Are but from our eyes.

You and me,

Alone

Under tunnels,

On benches,

In fields,

We will meet again.

Eye to eye.

And when I don’t belong to anyone else,

To anything else,

I’ll belong to you.

In your arms.

In your eyes.

 

 

Published in: on December 21, 2016 at 11:27 PM  Comments (2)  
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Committed Impropriety

giff

Propriety.

I want to go to war with it.

I am its slave

And its God

And the knight that fights

Against it

With a double-edged sword

I slash its expectations

And then dot my I’s and cross my T’s.

Where does one draw the line?

Where does one’s loyalty rest

When no armour exists?

Do the people not question why we serve and protect

That which silences the voice and shackles the free spirit?

My mind now mounts my untamed heart, galloping.

I raise my pen

Mightier than sword

Ready to storm

The castle once more.

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Currants

gify

It’s a cavity.

Hollow some days

Filled with daisies the next

And then

They rot.

And everything is obscure.

I fall in love with the forbidden ones, you see.

Age, language, occupation, religion,

The mountains I climb

I climb and reach

The top

The height of my love

Which I do not conquer.

Why this effort? The exhaustion, the heartbreak.

For I am love and

Love has me.

And most days

Most days

That’s enough.

And some days…

The moon and dark night know.

My companions

They know.

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Neverland

Morning sun,

Like butter melting, spreading on a black pan,

Seeping through the windows.

Giant leaves blow outside,

Their shadows dabbling in

Rays of golden jelly on my cream wall.

I spend several seconds squinting,

For the perfect moment

When my lashes diffract the light

Into a perfect rainbow.

I am sinking in a bed of baked custard.

My heart is all

Apricots and honey

Tangoing in close embrace…

Peeled and bronzed

Tangerines in glass jars

Sit on the windowsill,

Next to the plastic dinosaurs.

Silver waterfall-earrings, glinting,

Dangle on a cork board.

The half-painted birdhouse sits still. Glorious,

In royal shades of blue, red and shell white.

Noon sky

Like dusty pink and cream wafers.

I visit the Quiet Lake. Blue, misty, musty.

Sprouts of lavender, bark and lake weed.

I just want to be with me.

Jet black hair sprouting from my scalp.

I am good. I am gleeful.

Sunset horizon

Like a mural of splattered mango ice cream,

Before blue scrolls unravel

Night, stars and clouds.

Lights dim, curtains draw open,

Moonbeam spotlights.

And here the stage is set

For our dreams of life.

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My Reaction


It felt like the first day of Summer..

An early Christmas.

You were watching me.

I’ve been thinking

About you

Too much

Thinking

I’m so shy..

All my poetry is written

In my eyes

Unread by yours

Of course;

The way I tossed my pair around

It’s a game of scrabble now.

I could attempt

The poker face

If only my cheeks didn’t go so red.

My good intelligence and blood supply are in dire condition.

You are gorgeous, the way you float

From person to person

Sparking conversations.

Why does it intimidate me then?

I see now

I see me in you.

I see now

What they see too

When

I flutter in.

A taste of my own medicine.

Once upon a time

A butterfly

Collecting pollen

Developed allergies.

Achoo.

I mean

I love you

-Beautiful human-butterfly-

Linger a little longer

In this garden.

Some flowers are still to bloom

Some Sai is still to come through.

 

 

 


 

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Diya

I am waiting for this long night to pass.

Yet, as I write this, I desire to stay in its shelter.

Under this tender moon,

I want to run away to the seashore

And play the flute to the drifting tides.

Reveal to me what dwells in your kind, loving eyes.

As you read this, there is quantum entanglement occurring

Between particles on either side of our universe.

Why is it that I am so broken by knowing

That I will never see the laughter of my ancestors?

The remains of history’s emperors

Lay in ruined tombs.

Do you ever wonder what will become?

This little life of mine dances silently –

– The dwindling flame

Of a clay diya in a dark room.

Maybe, once upon a time,

A village girl dressed in a yellow ghagra choli

Looked up at the stars like me

And longed for something

That she knew only in her heart.

A beautiful truth.

A sad yearning.

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Spark

 

giphySource


Blossom.

Unravel your portraits

Like a kaleidoscope of butterflies

E m e r g i n g

From the cave.

A universe’s gallery

Encrypted

In Krishna’s

Code.

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Published in: on October 8, 2016 at 6:40 PM  Leave a Comment  
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W-Y

When I say your name

It is like a tide washing over me.

You are every emotion that I have ever felt.

This is my truth.

Only you.

I silence her.

I hide her in darkness.

Bolted in my rib cage

For years.

You have seen my darkness and my light.

The girl with sparkling eyes and many secrets.

You are in every song, in every person, in every dream.

Do you know what you are to me?

The wrong one, you are right for me.

This heart testifies.

It speaks at your mention, and leaves

In your absence.

She has no free will.

You give me life and death.

My sunshine, my emptiness.

My forever. It was never mine, it was yours.

I cannot again. I will never again.

You, only you

She cries,

Till I bolt her up again.

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Published in: on October 7, 2016 at 9:56 PM  Leave a Comment  
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Fearing Freedom

climbing-a-redwood-tree-700x467

I am afraid of

Freedom.

It seems

As splendid as climbing a tree in heaven.

But I see

The dark mass of gnarled branches.

Claws of a Whomping Willow

Ready to pluck me from my rooted ground

And disperse the seeds of my common sense

Onto barren lands.

I fear that freedom will change the baby bones upon which my frame hangs

Into skeletons in the closet.

Or, am I afraid

To live?

What if those claws extend from smooth limbs?

Protective and strong.

Grabbing me,

To place me high up on a tree

Away from the predators that I don’t see

Down to earth.

A higher perspective –

– Maybe this embrace by freedom

Is what’s best for me.

© Copyright 2016  A Cup of Strawberries

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Featured image via Climbing A Redwood

Cat and Mouse

But in nature, “the lamb always gets eaten,” said ecologist Craig Packer, director of the Lion Research Center at the University of Minnesota. “It’s quite common for cats to play with their prey and they can look very gentle doing it. But it always ends in tears,” he said.

From: The lion that befriended the antelope

I was

Settled on the cold, stony ground spotted

With lucky red seeds.

From behind the colours

Then emerged

The pride of lions.

Hari

Roaring in your glory.

Nonchalant, bulky shoulders.

Big, bold eyes, exuding confidence.

Deep, husky, young voice

Delighting gamakams.

Your dark mane, chest golden.

Attractive.

The passion, the respect that you commanded.

Focused,

Absorbed.

Your nuances and expressions,

Grunts and purrs,

Enticed.

The lion’s dance;

Your graceful leaps,

Mesmerised.

During the sustained drum roll of the madhalam I was

Anticipating…

How exciting,

The way you shook your head in enjoyment

As the ilathalam chimed

You gazed directly into my eyes

Humming

Melodies of excellent affection.

Chin tucked in..

Sweet smile playing on your lips.

Light-headed.

Deer caught in headlights.

Dear-

-Me.

Am I your prey?

Or are you my King?

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Published in: on September 22, 2016 at 11:11 PM  Leave a Comment  

First Impressions

His aloofness,

Beautifully rendered

Like a meteoroid,

Stony.

His wandering eye,

A shooting star darting

Across the map of her face,

Connecting the dots.

A mole

Sits above her lips

Defying perfect symmetry.

The irony
In a beauty spot
And in his orbit changing.

It is a science.

A hide and seek in interbeing space until

The chase:

He enters her atmosphere

At destructive velocity

Assuming the light of God, in her darkness.

Or

Assuming the light of God in her darkness.

Misguided.

Whom?

She thinks she knows his kind

In her midst burns his guise.

Exposed in this match.

The catch:

Fireball, Ego,

Caught out.

An unlucky streak,

Perhaps, for both.

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Enchanting Rain

Candied ginger melting in my mouth. Brown, spicy sweet.

One open window to one big world,

Time is at my feet.

Fresh viridian green leaves, enchanting in the rain.

White lightning flashes melting the sky,

Blue bird sheltered in a tree.

Wet strings connecting the intangible heavens

To dry dirt that covers earth’s bosom.

The glow of green, a magnificent colour:

Dark, alluring shades mixed with

  Tart green apple.

I wonder, what lies in the middle of leafy wraps on the tops of trees?

Never touched by warm fingers,

Nor glanced at for longer than a flick of a wandering eye.

What does the eagle feel as she watches from above,

A silver drizzle turn everything glistening green?

And the chirping birds that stop singing before the shower,

What tension do they feel in their hearts and throats?

The lone crow that moves through the skies,

What strength does it feel in its beating black wing?

How far is its destination? Is it as far as mine?

What is its aim at this moment? What occupies its mind?

Wet leaves delivering trickles at different speeds,

Daredevil ants venturing gingerly..

Rain, rain!

Seep into my veins.

Tell me your story this rainy day.

How many miles have you stretched and soaked?

How many lotuses have you embraced in dew on blue mornings?

How many of your drops have splattered over thorns and red tongues,

And mixed into the saliva of a young child’s gaping red mouth?

What is it like to bounce off a wasp’s wing?

And to collect like pearls on a spider’s web?

I wonder, rain,

You are so free in nature…

I want to drink you up,

Dance in you,

Become you.

I want to touch every object in nature as you do.

I want to glide down the backs of squirrels,

To know the tears of a man who cries in yours.

Each moment is new with your music

Pitter-

Patter.

You extinguish the slow burn of nature’s anxiety,

Rise from its ashes, black smoke

And take rebirth,

Silver liquid of life.

You are settling now,

Another cycle almost over.

Seeing your ferocity makes me calm.

Seeing you gentle now, I am charmed.

I beg you, however, please keep raining,

For, without you, each moment I dwell in longing.

 

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Published in: on May 11, 2016 at 7:27 PM  Leave a Comment  

Life time

Don’t believe what they say,

That you have lived for just 19 or 90 years.

Our life cannot be measured with time

That warps and zips

And stretch

-es.

All the times where I wished I could press pause… In a second I crossed a century.

And the sweet moments where time stood still,

There I

Still live

For eternity.

Don’t believe what they say,

That you have lived for just 19 or 90 years.

Our life cannot be measured with time

For time is still a mystery.

………..

© Copyright 2016  A Cup of Strawberries

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Published in: on April 11, 2016 at 1:59 AM  Leave a Comment  

Beneath Our Oak Tree

One day, one fall,

When the world seems as grey and gone as your hairline,

And swimming in memories of the golden days

Hasn’t drowned your blues,

Promise me

That you’ll visit one eve

And retire for a while

Beneath our oak tree.

The mild shade infused

With the hues of honey-yellow leaves above.

And the cool earth,

A bed of fresh henna,

Soft, dark and crumbly.

Quiet but for wafts of air,

Feathery fingers to tickle your cheek and ear

Enough to softly fill the cavity of your chest

With a warmth, forgotten

And a few soft strums of an old guitar,

Stirring,

Till heavy sigh

You let go.

There, as you lay mesmerised,

Dreamy-eyed

Seizing the magic

Of lavender twists blowing

In the sunset…

You wonder why

You can’t remember the rest of that tune,

Nor gain grip on a life slipping through,

Like fish between bare hands.

You.

Promise me, you will

That day, under our oak tree,

Rest your head on the hardwood

And look up at the sky –

A leafy collage,

We once imagined

A gallery of our love in the golden foliage.

A spread of post-it notes, each indented

With the markings of how dearly I love you

And you love me.

And when a storm hits your tender heart,

When your cloudy eyes rain your pain,

I will blow you kisses from the heavens

Plucking auburn hearts from branches.

Love-struck leaves, letters, memories, moments

Flying like kites above you,

Popping red and spiralling gold

Fireworks.

And you will recite,

She loves me still, she loves me not,

As they glide to the ground around you

Till one flutters into your open palms;

For a moment, catching your hand

And you may just

Catch mine.

And then, promise me

That you will smile like first time we met

Murmuring softly, she loves me, leaf in hand.

Maybe that day you will realise

How our affection did not spring for just spring time and

Why I never plucked daisies in our love games.

No oracle could predict the legacy of our bond

Alive, nurtured, centuries beyond

Shedding tokens of a love outliving

The never-ending seasons.

    …

One day, one winter

When you feel like a branch about to break,

Perhaps you might revisit our oak tree,

To resonate with its leafless state.

But promise me to look at the ground

Covered in a carpet of my love cards,

Season’s greetings.

Perhaps then you might think to

Once again pick up the pieces, our history,

And we’ll renew our vows

Once more under the oak tree.

Beloved,

Anew cycle of life commencing,

My promise I am delivering.

My love

Letters

Of spring

Will arrive soon,

Evergreen.

…………………………

© Copyright 2016  A Cup of Strawberries

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Published in: on April 7, 2016 at 3:10 PM  Comments (2)  
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Fall

Wuthering winds wander,

Through a frosty valley freckled

With winter cherry blossoms.

The winds whisper wanderlust words

Under their breath

Seasoned with summer’s delight.

I surrender and fall

Like a feather,

With peachy cherry blossoms –

Steady

Pink snowflakes,

Flitting into

The beating river.

A sea of dashing flamingoes,

Clustering into a sakura carpet

Then gracefully splitting,

Petal by petal.

 Soft, sunset pink

Whisked away

Through icy rivulets…

She is tracing her roots,

A lineage through love.

The roots that have twisted into her heart

And not around her family tree.

Through the icy rivers

She flows,

Blood red through blue veins,

Traveling to that elusive destination.

Once upon a time,

A cherry blossom in a beating river

Turned into Jasmine on a rippling magic carpet.

She drifted away, to the beat of her heart

To a whole new world…

….

A wallflower turned rebelle fleur,

She desires to blossom in the forbidden.

She will kiss the Amazon opal, make him blush her colour.

Her riotous red-pink will flare like lightning

In the spicy thunderstorm air of a wet Kerala monsoon.

And then, one fine day,

Her ephemeral heart will proclaim its dying wish:

To bask in the eternity of love before she

Lay down for good

  A cherry blossom wreath.

So it shall be,

Petite, pale pink, pretty,

In a crowd of bachelorette blossoms will she be,

Watching down from her sakura tree,

In lands where men haunted by love

Sing to their lovers a geet.

The lover a lucky flower, his voice sweet nectar:

Bibi sanam jaanam, anaar-i seestaanam…

Adored lady, my love, my (sweet) Sistani pomegranate…

She travelled around the world

Of her heart and

 Somehow, entered it.

And here,

She will surrender and fall

In love, to death,

Flitting into

The beating river.

……………………..

© Copyright 2016  A Cup of Strawberries

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Published in: on February 14, 2016 at 6:20 AM  Leave a Comment  

The Balancing Act

Now I walk this tightrope of fire.

One slip and I will fall.

One more slip and I will

Fall.

Why are you making me walk this path?

I am not the best at this balancing act…

Yet I cannot settle here in one spot.

Twisted,

Limited.

A lifetime of stock-still hopscotch.

Hot, Scorched.

Reduced to ashes in air-

my essence in flames, my spirit in smoke.

No, for I will go nowhere.

The winds of change have fanned the flames

And torched my feet.

In the blaze

I inhaled,

And dreamed of freedom at the other end.

And now, as I run for my life,

My inertia has me galloping

With the stumbling legs of a newborn deer.

Travelling on this tightrope of fire

I feel fear.

 

 …

© Copyright 2015-2016  A Cup of Strawberries

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featured image via Project Go Dog
Published in: on December 13, 2015 at 11:10 AM  Comments (2)  

Window Watcher, Soul Stalker, Lover Lover

Here,

Here I am.

Watching you

From outside your residence.

I see you

Through the round windows,

Of your snow-white cottage.

You are dancing,

Blissfully,

Behind those round windows

Tinted stormy grey,

With Royal Blue curtains.

I see you..

My mouth and eyes are prickled with frost,

Here.

Outside.

In the Cold.

I am frozen, Darling.

All I see is stormy-grey.

Won’t you Break the Ice

And Open the Door

To your Heart?

Let me Melt and Beat

In the warmth of Your Soul.

……..

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Published in: on October 3, 2015 at 3:19 PM  Leave a Comment  

Of the Wolf and the Moon

On a full moon night she emerges from the shadows,

Mad and howling, on a hunt for her lunar lover.

A lone wolf; she drifts away from her pack

And towards the Eternal Drifter,

That sailor of the sapphire night, her elusive knight in silver armour.

Caught in a perpetual eclipse, Only dusk’s musk surrounds her in its sweet tang of all things fresh and fermenting.

Her life is nothing but a reflection of that glimmering opaque body above; lost and wandering through the seas of sky and earth.

Sweet moonbeams caress her milky skin as she dances wildly to the rhythms of her heart in the twilight.

Captivated, she leaps to the moon and breaks like the waves,

Crashing harder each time..

A simple consequence of mass and gravity, or, perhaps, of love and destiny?

The lustre of her Taj Mahal teases her, as she lays, shattered and shackled in a fort of blackness.

Her howls hush into whimpers and moans, she cannot accept that it is not meant to be…

At last, the material nature plays illusions to her favour,

For a pacifying passing or for ridicule? One may never know…

Death grips the wolf’s senses, assaulting her body and mind.

Her sad, starry eyes brim in a bitter acid soup, staining and blotching the vision of her white-marble heaven…

Till the buttery moon cracks and leaches,

Crumbling down and drizzling, as piercing shards and burning white lava upon her.

Alas, the material nature plays illusions to only one side’s favour,

For death came to the wolf as a bittersweet union,

Far, far from the violent separation,

Cradled forever in the Eye of the Moon.

…..

© Copyright 2015-2016  A Cup of Strawberries

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Published in: on September 5, 2015 at 12:29 PM  Comments (2)  

Sway

Dark-green mossy clusters sluggishly sway,

Growing or dying? Far, far away,

Frothing over like green lava into the sweet milky sky,

A rainforest on top of bronzed, burnt branches.

The ivory blanket has lost its orange tinge; the day is about to vanish.

A peppery moth flutters her triangles against my glass window. We share the same gaze —

Take me away.

.

© Copyright 2014-2016 A Cup of Strawberries

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Published in: on November 26, 2014 at 11:00 AM  Leave a Comment  

Apple of My Eye

Bluebells swim in swirls of aqua,

Lavenders burst in a melodic sonata,

Baby blue bubbles in blueberry syrup,

Crumbled corals in orby whirlpools.

Deep, deep and tender, soft and merry,

Butterfly lashes, blinking so gently.

Speckled green tea, seeps in at daylight,

Blue honey marbles go blue-grey in dim light,

Emerald scales and streaking teal tails,

Glistening blackberries dip, swim and sail.

Black hole in centre, strongest pull of love,

Spiralling stars, sprinkled around,

Deep, deep and tender, soft and merry,

Butterfly lashes, blinking so gently.

…..
For Her ❤

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Published in: on September 13, 2014 at 11:33 AM  Leave a Comment  

Glow Fishy

Bubble bubble blitz, blop!

A fishy fish plunges deeper into the blue marshmallow,

Her fins quivering with nervous delight.

Glassy eyes bulge like round marbles, ceasing to blink even once..

Her wobbly silk buttered body flaps around, swishing and cutting her way through.

As the water bleeds froth and foam, swirling and simmering like a fizzy hurricane,

To the surface of the still lagoon.

_________________________

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Published in: on February 6, 2013 at 4:18 AM  Comments (2)  

If you love something, let it go…

The milky moon boat sails through the black sea tonight, and I plan to follow from Earth.

I chase after her as she rolls over and under waves of wispy cloud, my sight is slightly blurred.

I seize glimpses of milky moon boat casting her finest shimmering nets.

“Are we going pearl fishing tonight? I can spot a zillion sparkles!” I say.

I gaze above at the milk float, looking for an answer, but milky moon boat sails away.

I have walked far now, and I am nowhere near home. I wonder whether milky moon boat will turn back or keep cruising into the unknown.

I am hesitant but I must venture on.

I vow to pursue you till dawn.

O’er grassy lands I scurry, o’er crackling rocks I sprint,

No force greater can stall me, I speed away into the dim.

As night takes over, her sailboat lights up my world.

I am led into an emerald forest and confront Mother Earth’s precious girls.  Towering trunks open up into leafy, wild, aspirant branches. The lass smothers her rays of white blessings down on shrubs that reach for the stars..

I slip and dash past the bushes and branches, she is still there I believe, lurking in the fogginess.

Yet tired am I from the blisters and bruises, her voyage seems not disturbed, nor distressed nor ceaseless.

Mossy rocks under the soles of my feet, parched throat, I accept defeat.

In remorse I take a different path, wondering about a new start from the past.

 Retiring beside a misty puddle, surrounded by what seem like creatures from Bingle Bog. I croak and cry over the sting of first love, and dip my face into the pond.

My head feels heavy, my eyes red and sore, my ears hear buzzes, and my jaws release a yawn.

As I begin to fall into a slumber, a peculiar view catches my tired eyes,

For it is milk that I see in the liquid ice. I cup my hands and gulp the liquid, only to find it tastes no different. My eyes are glued to the milk in the water as I stir it around with one finger.

Ripples of milk swirl away and a white ball of cream returns again and again.

My mind returns to thoughts of this divine journey.

I see the vanilla boat in my mind, she is just as marvellous in the midnight sky. My dearest moon boat shines brilliantly tonight, and she remains anchored to the ocean above and in my mind,

bound to my heart for all time.

If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it’s yours forever. – Unknown

____________________

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Published in: on January 13, 2013 at 6:51 PM  Comments (1)  

Mother

The elegance of a woman.

She’s down to earth, yet her essence soars high above the stars.

Honest, unpredictable maybe, yet fair in all her dealings.

The binder of strength and unity, and the bonding of man and beast.

Her policies are fierce in the jungle, yet her soft ripples glisten the blue sheet.

King of the jungle depends on the Queen of the land.

Mother Earth.

Igneous, metamorphic and calcareous rocks to topaz, diamond and gold.

Soils that are rich and fertile to the oldest decomposition, of petroleum and coal.

Jewels of Sweet Jasmines to Orchids to Lotus and dear thorny Rose.

Italian bees to Little bees  thrive on the sugary nectar, which seep from your darling creations.

Cherry blossoms to  breeze balloon and the majestic banyan tree.

They grow to mark your different aspirations.

Your beautiful stature, rounded hills, and deep valleys, to your wise words that speak in bubbles and trinkets of gorges, brimming rivers and waterfalls.

Parts of you enticingly crackle in the heat of the deserts, and parts of you clash and crack  at the poles.

Such diversity, such artistic intricacy enchants not just one, but the living life cupped safely in your palms.

Carbon dioxide, nitrogen, argon and oxygen synchronize in perfect amounts and perfect harmony acknowledging your humble pleasant nature.

The winds blow lightly enabling pollination and the ozone layer guards all from extensive exposure of the harshest rays.

Your perfect composition of flavours cannot be imitated which speaks the raw truth of your nature and realness.

You provide shelter to all that inhabit you, the mynahs and cuckoos sing sweet tunes of your generosity.

Each have a home in your home. Spiders accustomed to their webs, and frogs on lilly-pads.

Ranging from the deep blue sea to land to air.

As the fireball bids goodbye, a canvas of blush she paints.

As the sun-kissed forehead exhibits the end of the day.

Patches of maple and splotches of apple swirl in a stewy custard evening stuck above.

Slowly her art fades into dimness, seizing along with it all visibility.

Black brilliance cuddles all as a mother would.

Tranquility speaks, in hush notes of her caresses, as we sleep.

She spins on.

____________________

© Copyright  2011-2016 A Cup of Strawberries

All Rights Reserved

 

Published in: on December 24, 2011 at 9:24 AM  Leave a Comment  

Ash.

Wooden benches, carved with abusive stinging words.

Hatred still lives, scarred even on the dead.

Imitating the nature of a wild beast, untamed and destructive.

This insensitive fire burns a poor helpless animal of clean, pure soul.

Saffron heart of fire, undying angst with notorious distorted feelings burn this land, this home, this soul, this life.

A sore pinched heart of nothing more than survival tattoos mourns, silently.

Pouring out melancholy melodies to the deep ocean raging in it’s mind.

Cannot be washed out and cannot escape from this enclosure to a feared fate of dying through exposure to the hate of boiling inhumane blood.

Drowning with no air in this icebox called the mind. Losing hope deep inside.

Some that have melted, and are melting in this heat, build a steel mask over to protect what life remains beneath.

But this mask of steel, holds a deal,

That what shows above is cold-hearted and sealed.

And it shall be as mean and as unkind as the insensitive fire, in the beginning, and forever over time.

This block of emotion built over many souls, may help them to live an ignorant sad life,

But helps the fire on new descents, raging and destroying the more since there is no defense.

We become as blind as a bat to the cruelty that surrounds. And we ourselves are weakened and brought down.

Such sensitive and pure as thou, burns in this outrageous fast spreading bush fire.

Such disasters are said to start at the root.

Maybe just a small branch started burning from a small spark lit by a rumor.

And though it’s spirit died within this flame, and it’s ocean of sweet tune in it’s mind stirred up.

Its remains being a steely cold heart turned into hatred..

Bred and spread the flame of doom.

Enveloping other sunken hearts of sorrow to die within this serial killer of a flame.

Livening the destruction.

Such a place, I shall flee,

No place for thy or thee.

A death sentence to our sanity, still has no cure?

Amongst us, flame of hatred, spreads more and more.

Ashes we breath, of what was.

Death and life, but this place is drained of love.

____________________

© Copyright  2011-2016 A Cup of Strawberries

All Rights Reserved

 

Published in: on May 17, 2011 at 10:58 AM  Leave a Comment  

Of The Sand and Sea

A caramelized beach,

Smokey sun scorched-peachy heat.

Multi hued, silken smooth,

Fire beads strewn across the burnt base.

A clear azure blue, strips of turquoise liquid too.

Untamed violent waves, aggressively clawing-

Striking with pace.

Bursts of fresh salt tasting air, blows across my face.

Sparkly blue border, is where my heart bathes.

Spots of debris and floating seaweed, wash across never motionless plains.

And that is when I see,

More to this story, oh how can I explain?

Fluffy white bubbles left behind,

Too slow to catch up to the fast departing tribe.

Spotty snow absorbed by the dehydrated sand,

While the waves remember the little ones, It comes clawing back again.

Nothing on this land, but soaking-up sand.

Blue shore is left in dismay, what shall I say?

An act of revenge, in a mournful state,

The waves swish some sand away from it’s place!

But Alas! With no luck, and the loss of more baby blue,

It comes crashing down – bombarding,

This speckled sandy face.

The glittery surface feels threatened,

Why is this aqua bed of water attacking?

He beckons, giants; to build sand castles in defence.

Hopefully they’ll withstand.

The fierce body of water,

Seeks no dandy compromise.

Her heart seems so clear and pure,

But has a crystallized mind.

Set in stone,

THIS SAND IS MINE.

____________________

© Copyright  2010-2016 A Cup of Strawberries

All Rights Reserved

 

Published in: on December 7, 2010 at 2:39 PM  Leave a Comment  

Lonely Miss Universe

Every night, beams of white light,

Escape through the shield of drapes.

Growing vines and glowing rods, form crystal candy canes in this in-illuminate plain.

A whisper starts from in between the trees, they rustle their leaves that starts a breeze.

Steady and slow, but turning my shiny shield from stone walls,  into soaring rippled waves.

This satin weave, hung on piercing hooks, hides me from a crowd of nocturnal beings, that don’t want me to fall asleep,

Just yet.

They have a plan, I can sense it with ease, as suddenly there’s another breeze, and something happens so suddenly that I stop and freeze –

The moon cries out from far away, as it comes out everyone’s gone away.

And it’s sad gloomy face lingers, looks around, and down, in search for a play mate.

I sometimes see it coming out early, hoping to catch a friend, gazing down slightly,

Oh but the zealous scorching sun blocks out my vision to it’s beautiful milky face.

The moon tries following us in the eve’ but it gets tired of running after each,

and slowly slips away – unseen.

To hide behind pillows of cushion clouds, resentfully.

Oh when, oh when shall I see your face? It hasn’t come out to greet me in days.

I miss your soothing gaze, that awakens me in a peaceful state.

Now finally, a snow-white milky way,

Sways in seeping through these fluttering butterfly wing drapes.

A friendly smile sailing in through my window~

I see your face, I see your face.

Oh how I longed to see your graceful angelic gaze,

Coming out, and in once again.

Luminous silver ball of dewy flame.

I see, I see.

The whispering trees,

Have set out again to seize this unwelcoming drape,  blocking out your friendly beams of shiny pearl lace.

And as this army of never-sleeping giants, step out and make nature’s miss universe  smile and feel so delighted, we praise and praise these justified majestic beings  joyfully.

Nature forms as one in the end, and as you can see,

I have got my old friends back again! 🙂

Yiiiiiiippppeeeee!!!!!!!

____________________

© Copyright  2010-2016 A Cup of Strawberries

All Rights Reserved

 

Published in: on November 14, 2010 at 2:25 PM  Leave a Comment  

Beauty and the Beast

Blossoming sweet shower of sugar sprinkles, these drizzly silvery days.

My, your beauty has a dark side.

A swarm of enraged ravenous bees you are. Have mercy from savaging this brick home.

Stinging with every thump on my roof. The only shelter I possess from this riotous storm.

Have mercy?

Moussed heavy vanilla clouds hover above me, scotch taped and enveloping the baby blue sea this sky once was.

Glazing shimmers and droplets of sugary dew. Sitting upon crimson, golden and velvet white woven silk.

These delicate flowers are clenching desperately onto the thin lace – stem holding their life.

Have mercy?

No longer, we hear the chirping tune by the winged angels.

They too are frightened and upset by your poisonous, violent – yet whistling carefree breeze wallowing in their surroundings.

Oh beauty, you really do have a dark side..

____________________

© Copyright  2010-2016 A Cup of Strawberries

All Rights Reserved

Published in: on October 14, 2010 at 1:36 PM  Leave a Comment  
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