this newness

what is with this newness that
doesn’t change anything?

the air still pricks like a year-old
thought, the water still burns and
scars the remnants of a shed-skin,
the blue stays a blue and warmth
only comes in intervals of counted
breaths, and all is fine, as fine as
it can be, on a fragile winter-sun,
still uncanny in its resemblance
with oldness and frailty, and yet
a pithy belief for rest and peace.

i pick moments from this stagnancy,
and venture for an apathetic re-
conciliation with my old selves,
drinking from the same pool of
aging and forgetting, and in mind’s
eyes, i can see that it is but the same,
the angles and frames have dearly
changed for a different, if not a better
perspective, of the dipping sky, going
beneath my window, into my words,
and quenching the need for change,
which is not in the coming today.

© Anmol Arora

Image source (Year of change at Wildwood by Andy Reisdorph)
Linking it up with this year’s first
Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads

And then that was all…

I fell asleep an hour before, before it was to be

the swift change of the calendar, across diaries,

and on the walls, in the ledgers, on computers,

but most potently into the eyes of the eager ones,

looking into the face of the clock, holding breath,

counting backwards, with the whoosh of fireworks,

as if the world is going to tilt, by the tremor of voices,

reverberating, in the coagulating atoms of midnight,

a new chance, new opportunity calls to the hearts,

of the ones needing something to hold onto,

I among one of them, drenched in guilty desires,

and thus I woke up, a minute prior to the wretched

overlapping of three different sticks, signifying time,

and looked sleepily at the television screen, a circle

counting down to zero on a media channel,

and then that was all… after mouthing the words,

that one say at such moments, I resumed back to

lying down, into the sonorous arms of sleep


I wish you all a very Happy, Hearty, Prosperous and Peaceful New Year.

Image source