Wednesday, August 15, 2007


your words lie
littering the floor,
like newspapers
flung here and there.

they lounge lazily
on the couch, crowding,
the spaces of my soul,

the way i see myself.

my patience bends,
sweeps them up,
stacks them in a corner
of my memory,
to read later, at leisure,
when i’m tired of us.

i close the door
on you,
slip the latch in place,
locking within
a roomful of anger
that could burn
photographs and promises.

i cook lunch,
wipe the windows clean
of our arguments,
watch the news, and
take out the trash
from my mind.

when evening balds,
i stand on the porch,
anxious for you
to return
your love
at night.

but up in the attic,
newspapers lie
piled up,
a whiff of disillusionment.


Karthik said...

Sooper da - i can see u getting back to your old self !!!

~SuCh~ said...

Touche !

Now that is a spectacular use of the metaphor...

musafir said...


:-) ... thank you. That comment makes me feel validated.

I guess I didn't write poetry because my sensibilities were evolving all the time and I couldn't bring myself to like anything I wrote. It was almost as if my tastes had overtaken my skills. But now I just write. Need to keep writing, I guess.


I somehow had a feeling you'd say that :-)

Anonymous said...

strikethrough really changed the stanza ..and you didnt lose your original motif either ..good job :)

musafir said...


Honestly, that "lazily" was superfluous. So, I struck it off. But yes, like you say, it does make that stanza flow smoothly.

Thanks for dropping by.

Anonymous said...

Hi happened to read very few of ur writings,dude got to admit u got it in u to be a skill full writer.
Henceforth,i am subscribing to ur writings :).keep flowing


Anonymous said...

Akhil here.. :D

this one is really the best of the ones on this page as yet..
i would not say a lot for the fear of sounding inaccurate.. :)