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.

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Erased

Dilute tears, in translucent
Curtains of thin thin red
Caves a pool, of memories,
Moments and a still-born.
“I won’t tell it belonged to you.”

Starry nights, but monochrome
Dreams of nude nude flesh
Guard a bed, with pillows,
Creases and a shameless sin.
“No these fingers don’t point at you.”

Cherry-eyed cakes, melted candles,
And a weary long long day,
Await a smile, less unborn,
More a guilt buried within.
“Be happy. Nothing happened.”

6 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Again state of mind?

~Voice

2:22 pm  
Blogger Shiv... said...

Its really a imaginative metaphor for your state of mind... I like the style you write as well.

Its appealing due to the uncanny nature of your mind.

Keep penning!

1:41 pm  
Blogger P.R.A.D said...

first time to ur blog.. enjoyed it ... interesting one !! keep it going..

2:00 pm  
Blogger Unknown said...

Its just honest.....I respect it

10:07 pm  
Blogger Winnie the poohi said...

Lovely poem!

The pain of aborted child and lost love.. is expressed soo beautifully!

Dilute tears, in translucent
Curtains of thin thin red
Caves a pool, of memories,
Moments and a still-born.
“I won’t tell it belonged to you.”


Couldntget past these lines for some time :)

u have got the magic :)

5:14 pm  
Blogger Archana said...

winnie,

i have had fights with somebody. i just couldn believe that person cudn understand it. but glad to know, it is not math or gibberish. thanks a lot. :)

archana

6:03 pm  

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