A tale of two crimes

I once heard of a tale,

A man who killed his neighbor,

And stole all the fruits of his labor.

It made me weep with sorrow,

What will happen of this cruel society tomorrow?

 

I once sat upon my window sill,

I saw an act of nature, if you will.

A pigeon toiled day and night to make its nest in my window,

And once when his eggs lay in the nest, came a crow.

Nonchalantly it took the eggs with it

and began to take apart the twigs for his own nest, ah the wit!

I thought no further of this act,

Until one day I began to wonder,

How the man and the crow, their acts were not very different.

Perhaps one had a conscience, the other was indifferent.

 

– Sneha Pathak

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The garden near the graveyard

Meander

The cherry blossoms bloomed dutifully,
In the garden that stood opposite the graveyard, so beautifully.
The pretty pebbled road to the garden gate
Meandered slowly to the place where people met their ultimate fate.
The cool wind that solemnly blew the dust from the top of the graves,
Blew the hair of little children playing, to blissful ignorance, they were slaves.
The dirt where the fallen men lay peacefully,
Was just 50 steps way from where young men jogged hastily.
Farcically trying to prolong their days,
Calmly ignoring the inevitable long night that lay.
Whispered promises of undying love in the grass,
Lay there on the other side rotting as carcass.
People buried little seeds, planting saplings in the mud, a sign of renewal
While some buried bodies, and called life cruel.
The sun sets poetically on one corner of the garden of eternal rest,
While the people return home, renewed with a new zest.
I marvel at their willful ignorance and optimism
Their desire to hold on
Even though before their eyes
Lies the fact that all will be lost.

Midnight conversations

Today’s prompt – Conversation

The music was loud, the words were few

I couldn’t find my friends, all the faces were new.

I scanned the room, our eyes met for a moment

She looked at me and looked away, a little hesitant.

The noise was too much, I couldn’t hear myself think

I stepped outside, for fresh air, and saw a vision in pink.

It was the same set of eyes, I had seen inside

I smiled at the woman beside.

Two strangers tired of trying to fit in the crowd,

We decided to go somewhere not so loud.

While the world cheered at midnight,

I admired her pale face glowing under the faint streetlights.

Walking around the city, talking about everything and nothing,

I found the one thing that my life was missing.

While I did not have a grand celebration,

I found something better in that night’s conversation.

© Sneha Pathak [Rights Reserved 2018]

What do you do with the songs?

I wonder what do you do with all the songs? You know the songs, that people, friends, lovers and so on suggest to you or the ones you suggest to them? What do you do with these songs when these people leave?

What do you do when the song, that you and your best friend screamed into the mike at that karaoke bar comes on the radio, when you both don’t talk anymore?

What do you do with the song that your boyfriend sang on the phone at 2 am when he drunk dialed to tell you he loves you, when you haven’t seen him in months.

What do you do with the song that you danced to at your wedding with the man who promised to love forever, when the last you saw him was in a divorce court?

How many songs can you avoid? How many songs can you hate, simply because they bring you nothing but a stabbing  pain in your heart as the memories of people that left comes rushing back.

What do you with the songs?

 

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]

Succumb

Succumb

 

Tonight the monsters don’t haunt, they whisper

Whisper the verses that fill the blank pages

Tonight, I let them out of their cages.

Tonight, my cheeks aren’t wet, no dried tears

Tonight, the ink sings my deepest fears.

The suppressed pain comes out tonight,

Tonight, I will not put up a fight.

Tonight, I will no longer feel numb,

I’ll feel the pain and succumb.

Elastic heart

Elastic

 

Songs of love that turned to midnight wailing

the cries of my heart that is perpetually ailing.

Courtesy your poison soaked words of bitter hatred.

memories of sweet nothings, have now faded.

The fairy tale has turned to a horror story,

Love for me, has lost all its glory.

However, my heart continues to forgive,

willing this dead love story to live.

The lies, the betrayal, the inevitable end so tragic,

My heart overlooks it all for you,

What can I do, it is elastic.

It wakes up with amnesia, having forgotten your cruelty

Even the fake promises of love and your duality.

It goes back to loving you just the same,

Goes back to playing this sick little game.

©Sneha P [Rights Reserved]