Walk, I went for…

spectacles balanced up on the nose

obscuring those dark brown eyes,

visage wrapped in a white handkerchief

of the clouds that outline the sky,

in blue denims, wilted a bit by sunlight,

and a tee, dull pink and grey toned

with the collar like that of a noose,

a stainless steel watch flashing, thick and

minutely grazed now, halted in time,

I sauntered like a shadow through the streets,

no purpose in mind, but to get lost,

though not possible in a civic over-inhabited,

but only as long as my two arms affixed,

not rising a single sound, I ambled around,

some looked at me with a grimace,

others ignoring me like I coveted,

I stirred the crowd when necessary,

paving my course to an unknown place,

I was walking towards in a daze,

taking a turn here and there, nowhere,

seemed like hours since I had been doing it,

my mind thinking of its own accord,

and I ignoring every fact with every other thought,

it was only 15 minutes later that,

I returned back, drenched in sweat of the summer,

I marched in back to the enclosure of safety,

relieved that I was back from the world,

being an element of which, yet I did not belong,

appear and sit down facing a laptop,

inscribing down in a blog post,

“Today I went for a walk.”


* Though I didn’t go for a walk today, that is usually what happens whenever I do. Still, there was one particular walk I had in my mind when I wrote this. I was walking fast but then I had slowed down and then stopped and then made myself tread those steps. I wasn’t tired physically.. who can feel fatigue after such a short walk!? But mind can travel for miles in the very same time. And that is what had happened with me. I rarely step out of this place… not sure why.. but may be I know. I do know, I guess. Submitting this piece for dVerse OLN.


7 thoughts on “Walk, I went for…

  1. ha. bringing it full circle back to the top…i understand the feeling of not being of the world…almost an observer or not fitting…i filled that role for years…maybe i have just accepted it now and dont care…i get a lot of looks for my mohawk…again, its not for show as much as it helps me slip the cracks where the kids i work with exist and makes them more comfortable…no purpose in mind but to get lost…smiles.


  2. smiles.. i love going out for walks and do some people watching – but all the things that storm your mind esp. in big cities can cause some mental exhaustion for sure… think esp. we poets drink in every detail and sometimes get just overwhelmed with it


  3. Ha, I would say that was quite a walk. Enjoyed all of the detail you shared, making your walk come alive. A poet can find beauty in every experience, I think.


  4. Very captivating imagery and I liked the picture choice also! The poem is thriving on some of my favourite things, but I must say this part was my absolute favourite:”visage wrapped in a white handkerchief

    of the clouds that outline the sky”


  5. Not fitting in is kind of almost essential for a poet, I think. As soon as you see things differently and then begin to draw other people’s attention to what they are not seeing, they tend to get uncomfortable and reflect that back on to you.

    As for walking in cities; there are some where I feel comfortable and some where I definintely wouldn’t.


  6. Wonderful write. I was with you on that walk not really wanting to be out in the world…finding safety back inside. I lost most of my fear but I still won’t go for a walk. I did in Europe and in Sedona and felt free and safe. Oh to have that every day. Can think so much more clearly when safety isn’t an issue. But to get lost in thought is a timeless place and a good thing to happen. Thanks for writing this, HA.


Here is where you tell me something...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s