Oceans apart

Tapping rains on window sill

As I lay there still.

Listening to the rhythmic tap

As the summer sun gleams on other side of the map.

We try to defy time and sleep

We laugh, we ponder, we bicker, we weep.

Different skies, oceans apart

But with you, my heart did depart.

So we carve a space for us two,

Somewhere between where nights end and days start anew.

I leave this verse just at these few lines,

And I fall asleep thinking of golden times.

(C) sneha pathak

Advertisements

Dinner table conversation

Like a iron hammer striking a metal gong
The spoon clashes against the plate
Playing crude, loud, lonely songs
Of love, heartbreak and fate.

The old chair creaks under my touch, the one that we picked out together
The one you always wanted to get rid of for a newer design
You see I held on to it,
For my hope unlike yours, does not resign.

The pale white plates with light blue flowers clatter as I put them on the table,
The state of which, is also no longer stable.

This creaking, clatter and clashes, make noises make a symphony
Helping me fill this silence melancholy.
Even though my heart can’t stand this separation,
This melody, makes up for our missing dinner table conversation.

All is fair, for love is war

We are skillful fighters,

You and I.

Our weapon of choice?

Knife-like words of ice.

We hide behind promises of love eternal,

Masking skillfully, the venom internal.

We take oaths of a love so pure,

We then inflict wounds, that have no cure.

For when the healer poisons your medicine,

Where do you go to recover from that ailment obscene?

So we wait for death, as we fatigued lie.

We are skillful fighters,

You and I.

After the war, we swear allegiance to each other

After so many battles, shouldn’t we know better?

These treaties are a disguise,

To keep the enemy close, the one we despise.

That way, we can attack them in their sleep,

We can shower them with love, then make them weep.

We can poke swords where it hurts the most,

After we have known their secrets innermost.

For betrayal has a sweet taste,

A slow hunt, not one of haste.

For our desire for mutual self-destruction keeps us tied.

We are skillful fighters,

You and I.

We have pierced each other’s souls now

Taking away hope, filling it with sorrow.

Yet, we never leave,

For this is love, we believe.

Even as we lie under different skies,

Yet again tears filling up our eyes,

We never say our goodbyes

For we are skillful fighters,

You and I.

 

© Sneha Pathak [Rights Reserved]

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]

Memories that sting

Sting
Like a faded wound, that doesn’t bother you anymore,

I think about them no more.

Except when I stumble upon old letters,

I read them anyway, even though I know better.

Declarations of love, poetry for my beloved and sweet nothings

As my fingers trace the faded words, I have trouble breathing.

I move on to further musings, tear soaked papers, stories of pain

Promises to self to never love again, all in vain.

I find a box of heartache in every corner of my life,

Stories of people whose words hurt more than a knife.

Again and again, the same old misfortune and pain,

Just by people with different names.

Every time I look the dusty volume of my past,

I wonder what curse has been cast?

For even I though lock them away, memories of heartache still cling,

Every time I think of the past, it still stings.

© Sneha P [rights reserved 2017]

Trance

Trance

Whispered promises of friendship and love,

Hope glimmering, like the stars above.

Stolen kisses, shy smiles and intense glances,

Things that made me give you multiple chances.

Hanging on to your words from the past,

Blind to the promises broken so fast.

Living in a memory where things were right,

A haven, where we never had a fight.

Where your words didn’t make my heart bleed

Where you said I was all you could ever need.

Now I live in false hope, tired of this sadistic dance

What can I do? I am caught up in your trance.

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved 2017]

The Holidays

As the white snow covered the ground underneath,

The weight of memories comes crashing down,

I find it hard to breathe.

The twinkling lights were too bright,

But the darkness dominated the night.

The warmth of the coco

could not warm your cold heart,

Even my love’s passion failed to do its part.

You murmur as you shove aside the mistletoe,

‘A kiss can make you fall in love,

And I have no emotions, don’t  you know?’

As the laughter fills the air,

There is only one thing for which I care.

To hold you tight once again,

Ah! The holidays bring too much pain.

 

 

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]