Broken Heart

Sleepless nights and days in vain

Two sides of the same coin

Love and pain.

All the memories you preserved

The tiny toys and the long poems

The scribbled notes and the blurry photos

Ashes. They turn to ashes as they say goodbye

They move on with their life

While you lay there and sigh.

Why did you remember the color of their shirt

And their smell on a rainy day

Why did you remember their eyes and their gaze

Why did you save old photos and fridge magnets

Why love when all it brings is heartbreak after heartbreak

The Bitter Truth

One piece of wisdom my elders passed on to me was as follows

“If you plant the seed of the neem tree,

It won’t bear the sweet fruit of mango”

The leaves of neem, are very better to swallow

I never truly appreciated this saying

Until I found myself on my knees, praying.

For the pain to stop and the tears to go away

For your presence had made my days gray.

At the crack of the dawn I was going to bed

For I had spent the night crying instead.

I gave you my all, my innocence and, my heart

I stood by you right from the start

When you were down and out,

I stood by you without a shadow of a doubt

I cried in your sorrow and laughed in your joy

Yet, you treated my heart like a toy.

Like the tree of neem you continued to spit out bitterness and hate

Cutting me down until it was too late.

The girl who helped you stand up when you fell

Was the very one you hid like a secret you couldn’t tell.

You trashed her confidence and her spirit you crushed,

Like the neem tree, your bitterness fell wherever you touched.

So you spew out venom, because that is your nature

And she goes on giving, because she loves to nurture.

Until she is gone forever, lost in this cruel garden of hate,

Maybe one day, you will realize her worth, but it will be too late

© Sneha P

Looking for a piece of me

You look at strangers searching for a piece of you
To find any sense of home in this place that is so new
But did home ever feel like home?
Did the people back home feel like your own?
Or have you always felt like a boat searching for a shore
Trying to row hard, but without any oars
The city changes, the scene changes, the people change
But a piece of your heart feels amiss, isn’t that so strange?
You search for something that feels like a blanket
On a cold winter night
You search for something that feels like a hot cup of tea
In a world where even a conversation comes for a fee
You search for something that feels like a rock
Like the comfort of finding that missing pair of sock
You search for a person who speaks your tongue in a foreign land
But does it ever feel like you are looking for penny’s in sand?
So you look at strangers trying to find meaning in their eyes
You search for the truth in a land of lies.

Little Moments, Lots to Say

John Keats said,
A thing of beauty is a joy forever
This quote develops more meaning
As I grow older
The other day for instance,
I walked by the pier around evening
The gentle laps of emerald blue water
And the last remaining rays of sunshine
Illuminated the brick path and this dark mind of mine.
I marveled at the beauty of the city lights
The vast ocean, the tall towers and the sailing ships
But what caught my eye, was human relationships.
I see a little baby giggle with laughter as the father pokes the feet of his daughter
I see the wrinkled smile of an old woman as she snaps a quick picture of her husband looking at the water
I see two new lovers,
The girl who is dressed in a red flowery dress, turns a deeper shade of red
As the guy mutters sweet nothings near her ears
I see a guy talking on headphones, smiling from ear to ear
Another woman reading a book on the grass,
Reminiscing about a time in the past
The harbor is beautiful but there’s something prettier nearby,
Memories, love, intimacy and beauty
Of humans, and their untold stories
Of little moments of joy, nostalgia, romance and even monotony
Coloring human existence with shades of delight and agony
The sunsets today but the stories don’t go to bed
Pushing on wards like sailing ships
Like Fitzgerald says,
Like boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past
Not knowing how long this moment will last.

Memories – An old forgotten box

Margaret Atwood Says,

“The memory is no friend

It can only tell you

what you no longer have”

I breathe a sigh

Today, I passed the little clubhouse,

Where we played childlike games

I breathe a sigh because it’s not the same.

Today I shopped at our favorite supermarket

I remember how you pushed the cart down the little aisles

While I clung to your hand

I remember how you bought me food

before you went back

Worrying I won’t have enough to eat

I remember tidying up your place before I left, so it remained neat.

I wish the returns counter accepted memories back.

I see a car on the street that looks exactly like yours

I reason, thousands of people drive that car

And I tuck you away in my mind someplace far.

My phone shows me a picture of you in the kitchen

Childlike eyes, and silly smiles

I toss away those photos in the deleted files.

You see, someone told me

you don’t go back in time, you only go forward

I wish you and me in the past didn’t make these memories,

I wish we know then, that in the future

we run away from each other, not toward.

And now like old furniture that I cannot seem to give away

As I try to move, your memories get in the way.

© Sneha Pathak

A new path

I toss aside,

The old, the heavy, and the uncomfortable

Not because I am not fond of it

But because it’s beginning to rust

Like an old rusty knife, that is poisonous when it cuts

Because while it felt safe to be around the familiar

The path, the future ahead, was quite clear

Treacherous, harsh, cruel and dreadful

A path, which made me fearful

So I toss aside the old

And I embrace the new

I climb, I climb, I climb

Until I find a new view.

I find joy in conversations

I talk to writers and musicians

I laugh with them and hear their stories

I giggle and embrace childish glories

I appreciate life and its gems

I open my arms to new experiences

I cast aside old grievances

And I open my life to the future ahead

I close my eyes, and dream of it, as I lay on my bed.

© Sneha P Copyright 2022

The lion and the lamb

Nature, cruel nature

Writing down the fates of every creature.

Smiling, cruelly perhaps watching the cards unfold

Leaving us in a jungle with a blindfold.

The little lamb that fell in love with the lion

Hoped that love can conquer all

Warm hugs, soft kisses

morning curled up together like a ball

With each day, their differences grew clear

They squabbled and screamed, but come end of day

They promised to love, come what may

But one day, when food was running low

Hiding in the bushes, the lamb lay low

She saw the lion hunt in motion,

Kill its prey and feast on it with devotion

The prey was a lifeless little lamb

Seeing this, the lamb just ran.

Tears flowing from its eyes, how could I be so dumb

How did I not see him as a predator, his heart began to feel numb.

The lion decides the lamb isn’t worth loving,

He finds the lamb conceited and vain

A predator by nature, he lets the hunt begin

Sometimes, all the lamb finds in the name of love is pain.

You see, love doesn’t conquer all my darling

One morning you wake up in their arms, and the differences are startling.

Sometimes, the lambs desire for freedom, can be mistaken for ego

Sometimes, even when the lamb screams, the lion doesn’t let go.

© Sneha P

The end of a love story

Slowly, one day, I look out the window

And everything has changed.

I look back at the story I was reading,

It is coming to an end

I look back with nostalgia,

marveling at the twists and bends.

A love story turned into a horror novel

One where you take your heart and bury it with a shovel

The hero lost his way and fell into a hole

One where dark clouds rolled in as he drank the cursed potions,

and soon he assumed the villain’s role.

He joined forces with an evil solider,

His life began to roll downhill like a boulder.

He left the princess to wait in the tower forever

Betrayed, she escaped, promising to return never.

His darkness had begun to dim her shine as well

She looked back and marveled at the day in love they fell.

A time, long ago, when things were different when stories were unwritten

When smiles were shy, conversations were long and the heart was warm

Little did she know, even then, for her, he was always wrong.

Vain, narcissistic, cruel and inhuman

he was always the kind of person

who would forget old ties and chase new ones.

She tried and tried to save him from his doom

But all he did, was delve deeper into this realm of gloom.

So the story ended on a note of heartbreak, ache, and pain

What can I say,

Sometimes love is lost in vain.

© Sneha P Copyright 2022

Seasons and Life

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring

Spring sets in, the colors so magnificent

Hope blooms, as do smiles

Summer, hot, time for outdoor adventure, beaches and sun

Time to go for vacations and get some fun.

Fall, everything is crisp and orange and auburn

Something about hot cups of tea and pumpkins makes everything seem lovely

Winter, cold, dreary, heavy under the weight of the winter gear

Will this ever be over, in sets the fear

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He wakes up to a brand new day

A morning, beautiful, flowery, and filled with the promise of the day

Smiling, cheerful, happy faces all around – a day to be spent in folly

Slowly evening sets in, the city lights shine bright and everything is charming

Night sets in, alone in his apartment, no one to talk to, no one to share his burden

Will this ever be over, in sets the fear

A poem inspired by the title of the movie Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring, talking about mental health

A list of Joys

A thing of beauty is joy forever

A sunflower on the porch of a house

A cup of warm tea when the rain falls

A good book when you have an evening to yourself

A hug from your loved one

A batch of fresh-baked cookies

An unexpected handwritten note/ card

An out of the blue compliment

A walk in the sun

An old favt song playing on the radio

A cup of warm soup on a cold winter evening

A good laugh with a friend

A little bit of hope and a little bit of love

© Sneha Pathak Copyright 2022

This reminds me of the following song – I got a pocketful of sunshine