miss honest

A tiny seed bottled inside, once broke out into a poem. The poetess loved it so much that even the spelling mistakes were spared.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Drop

Ever stood at the edge of a cliff?
Did your toe fingers jut out of it?
Did they, like ten eyes, peep at the abyss below?
Did you then hear the thump of your veins
As they pushed against your chest walls eager to get out?
Did your limbs go numb?
Was the numbness also an ecstasy?
Would you leave the last straw of reason
When the breeze gave you a gentle push?
Would you know you were falling then?
Would you know you would never know?

11 Comments:

Blogger Voice said...

scary

u r giving me ideas..
aise poem mujhse mat padhwaya karo
main try karne chala gaya to :O

waise i liked the way u have described the feeling... esp that time... "Did they, like ten eyes, peep at the abyss below?"

11:58 am  
Blogger Archana said...

:D you know, there is this place in Kodaikanal called Suicide Point? I heard it is so beautiful that you would feel like doing it. And I have heard a scary story abt it. A true story. Will tell you.

12:24 pm  
Blogger Dhruv said...

I was wondering if you could write it in prose -there seems to be an underlying feeling in most of your poems, which I think would do great as prose -maybe you could weave a story out of it...

10:03 pm  
Blogger Archana said...

While posting this one I sooo wanted to post it as a piece in prose. But I was afraid the pause after each sentence will be lost.

You are right. There is a potential of a story in most of them. In fact they were born out of stories. Let me see if I can work something out of it.

11:10 am  
Blogger Archana said...

Thanks Ankur

5:50 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey, came to office the other day. Didn't see u. Was wondering if you had written anything new.

You had. And you did. As always, drop my old jaw. I simply love what you write.

And as long as you can make us feel the feeling, imagine an idea, nurse a notion, who cares whether it's poetry or prose, song or script, line or sketch, building or baby!

Nevertheless, I do agree with the thought that there's so much more to everything to you write.

Frankly, I look forward to it in any form.

1:44 am  
Blogger Naveen Hiremath said...

Beautiful work. Thanks for bringing some beauty into a salesguys life....

8:29 pm  
Blogger Archana said...

What do I say! Thanks Naveen! Why don't you make your blog address available to others?

And to the name-shy person before that: Thanks for your blessings!

9:19 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i can almost imagine the tiny toe clinging on for dear life to its nearest brother after a lifetime of placid existence--wish i could sketch out its terrified eyes on your blog ;D

if you try hard enough, you might even hear a strangled little squeak from the heart of its soul:)

liked it lots--reminds me of my own toetales:)
keep the thoughts gushing!:)

2:55 pm  
Blogger Archana said...

ah goosebumps! why don't you publish something? i so want to read it!

8:56 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

some day maybe--it's more fun though to throw pebbles in the river once in a while though:)

goosebumps reminds me of an awesome copy posted on a hoarding outside an ad agency down the road here--

"we are just farmers
raising gooseflesh."

--orchard advertising

it never fails to bring a silent laugh to my mind and my eyes each time i go that way:)

3:04 pm  

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