all that I left with you

drops, a photograph by Totomai Martinez

I left a losing thing in the shadow
of leaves of the lone standing teak,
it was a pond of reminiscence that
snatched it from me, that losing
thing, now submerged, lost from me.

an ant answered the call when I
arrived at the wooden frame prop-
-ed as an entryway to your soul, and
I knocked a repeated knock, but
there was no opening, no close.

will you return all that I left?
can you walk on the ice of my hand,
which pulsates like venom in cold?
I neither expect nor prod, I am
a hermit walking by and away from you.

I remind you all of me that still is
with you, to ask you to return
those drops I left, that smile I
left in the lightness of your arms,
return to me that tempest of my eyes.

return back to me all I left, or not,
I’ll be asleep in the end, and aware
of all that I have left in this valley
nuzzling the horizon, rearing the
river of a memory in its womb.

.

I began to write keeping some other image in mind, but my muse took me somewhere else. After scrutinizing carefully through the wondrous collection of Totomai Martinez, I came across this photograph.

Maybe, the muse responded to the song I was humming a few minutes back. It is one of my favorites; it is in Hindi but English subtitles are added in this video:

And I ended up watching the entire movie. 😉

For dverse Poetics.

Tempest of Life

there was nothing, to stop the tempest, which has arrived,

a breath of veracity, kissing my throat, gripping my soul,

flaking the past, the withered leaves of memories blown away,

horses begin to neigh, and chortle at stances brought up,

drawing circles of circles, till when the heart tears up,

for the beans of opportunities are spilled, I once had,

clogged blood now run through veins, clotted on pale skin,

it matters not what is lurking, behind my severed shadow,

remaining are the ashes, aftermath of an eruption called life,

wielding the spirits of struggles, at every bend in journey,

I am left smothered with a slithering skin of tomorrow,

a fantasy worded, but never coming alive, just passing by

.

This piece is written, inspired from Dada and Random poetry. I had written twelve separate ten-word verses/lines and through a random series generator, positioned them accordingly. It is an interesting way to write. If you are interested and write something this way, do link it back to me. I’d be glad to read it. And if you have any questions, do ask me.

A little confession, I cheated a bit… changing a few words(only a few) to make some sense out of it all and of course, the punctuation is to be managed. 😀

I am tagging it as the post for 6 November for NaBloPoMo. And I am also linking it up with dVerse OLN.

Also, please leave a link to one of your posts in your comments. It makes it easier for me to visit you all. 🙂

Image source