Listening

NaPoWriMo Day#4 Prompt from http://www.napowrimo.net: Write a “loveless” love poem. Don’t use the word love! And avoid the flowers and rainbows.

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I tell you the most inane things:

i need to shampoo today, a mosquito kept me awake at night

I feel blank when people tell me goodbye and maybe never realize they’re gone

Night is my favourite part of the day.

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You listen in a way

That sometimes irritate me

Sometimes make me laugh sometimes make me angry

Sometimes make me feel your unknowing, still hands

Can hold just tight enough everything I want to forget,

In you.

What to Make of You

Writing 201: Poetry

Day#7 Prompt: Fingers, Form: Prose poem, Device: Assonance

I could look at your restless long fingers the whole day long.Your soft, fond fingers rubbing my aching back so tender, so gentle. Your nervous fingers, fumbling confusedly as you speak to someone you don’t know. Fingers that fail at tying my hair. Experts at holding me before I fall and dividing food. Fingers that lazily tap on your stupid phone. Make me feel loved, make me feel covered through their warmth, no, their heat, through all the different ways they know to touch. Scare me like nothing ever has or ever will when you are angry, the grip of your fingers so icy, so strong on my arm that I am choked. I don’t know what to make of you or your fingers: should I trust the warmth or the cold anger? Your fingers lay waiting and apprehensive as your mouth asks for forgiveness. My eyes are still fixed on your fingers to read what you’ll do next.

How to be a Great Father

BlogHer prompt for Monday, November 10: What knowledge do you have that others don’t? Write a “how to” post about anything you’ve got skills for, small or large.

Dedicated to my father. “Appa”, whose birthday is tomorrow.

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Turn off the internet and confiscate the laptops

Switch the lights off and tuck your girls in

And in the darkness, smile at the invisible sulks

Your daughters make while half-asleep.

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Wake them up in the morning

Be useful by panicking about time

And asking repeatedly, “Have you forgotten..?”

Ignore their rolling eyes, and look around for what they’ve missed.

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Miss them while they’re gone

All those hours in school

Which turn to months in college

Kiss them when they’re back

They secretly like it, though they say stop,

Their eyes will shine with home.

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Complain about not having a boy around

Buy a football in vain to get them interested

Make them stay awake at night for World Cups,

But sit through their makeover-daddy sessions

And smile wickedly for a selfie with them.

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Fight with them, make them run to mama

Be the baby, let them pet and pamper you

Pretend to sleep and wake up with a roar,

Enjoy their frustrated, “appa, stop!”

As much as their “miss you appa” over the phone.

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Love them with all of your heart

And watch them break it over and over

Knowing without a doubt that

They’ll always come back,

Cos they’re appa’s girls.

A Fever and a Fall

Response to Writing101 challenge: If you could zoom through space in the speed of light, what place would you go to right now?

It had been a terrible day, the kind that he hated: sticky, busy and messy. The work in the office had seemed duller than ever as the heat drenched the back of his neck and the tie choked his throat. The boss’s sexist jokes during the break seemed more unbearable than usual, and he felt tiny as he laughed dully to them. The ride back home was long and constantly interrupted by speeding cars. He expected coffee when he reached home. But when she opened the door, she told him she had been sleeping the entire day.

“I couldn’t go for work. I have a fever.”, she murmured feebly.

“I didn’t call you because I didn’t want you to get worried”, she answered his unspoken question.

He made coffee, the kind she liked: with barely any sugar and a lot of coffee powder, and brought her a cup. He stopped when he saw her huddled in her blanket, fast asleep. He realized, for the first time since they got married, that he liked being with her. He had never imagined that he could fall in love with the awkward girl he had met for the first time in the presence both their parents smiling at the match. But he ended up falling anyway. Looking at her sleep, he realized that this was where he wanted to be.

What I Want to Say

I wish I could tell you

What I actually feel 

But if I don’t know the words myself,

How can I explain what it’s like

To be me?

 

I wish I could 

Make you listen to

Every insignificant detail

Of my unimportant life

And bore you with stories

Of everyday ordinariness. 

But if I can’t tell you the big things

How can I even hope to explain

Why these little things mean 

So much to me?

 

I wish we could sit together

One quiet evening and talk,

But what if words ended up betraying us?

Could we just look at each other

And listen to what is so difficult to be said?

 

Or will we end up just hearing

The sound of our own voices

Muting out each other, 

Refusing to listen, refusing to understand?

 

I will never know,

Because I will never say

What I want to say.

Falling

Dedicated to my parents

 

On days when the clouds cry

To express my wordless anguish

When drops of the sun’s heat

Suck my entire being dry,

I fall into your smile

And remember what it is like to be happy.

 

On days when every slight word

Makes me bleed crimson pain

When the shallow pools around me

Turn my mind into an ugly brown,

I fall into your acceptance

And feel I can breathe again.

 

On days when my laughter

Rings of choked sorrows

When every breath I take

Scratches like dead leaves

I fall into your arms

And life surges into my corpse.

 

On days when an inaudible gasp

Signals my heart breaking quietly

When life loses its music and. 

Haunts with its cruel silence,

I fall into you

And know that I’m never alone.