Blue

Blue is the colour
Of strangulated bodies

Blue bird
Blue glue
Blue vein

Blue is the colour
Of desires

Blue skin
Blue bruise
Blue flame

Blue is the color you are
When you become history

Blinding blue
Soothing blue
Blue frame

Blue is the colour of silence
That records every moment
Spent sane or insane

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Spurious is a stage of mind
Dawn is when your eyes can look into mine
And read
Those lines against the linear
Abstractions and notions
Twisted myths floating
Eager to take shape
May be even in a bottle
Where once matured wine

Delusion outlined…

Others say
Dawn is a stage of mind too

A mesh of identities

I gaze at the fields
As my both arms spread out
Willingly embrace life

Wreathes of ache and laughter break out
And now i look at the sky
As my both arms spread out
Willingly embrace life

I look at him and i look at her
I look at the vast expanse of sky
I have embibed many identities
Maybe its a part of being a scarecrow...

Untitled

yesterday
someone plucked the moon
And placed it
In the bird's nest
As a gift
For the new born baby birds.

For the new born baby birds
It was nothing
More than a bright toy
But the stars had
Lost their leader.

Changing Seasons

Like spring enters a jungle and whispers its presence
Your faded memory came to me and whispered its existence
Earlier it engulfed me like a wild forest fire
Now it just slowly crawls into my being
And trickles down like tears refusing to leave

Deluded

Black cups of coffee
A cane lamp creating a mesh of patterns on the wall
Pillows thrown around
An aura of approaching dawn

Hours passed by
And sleep deluded me all through
Like Vermeer’s paintings
Life created valid illusions

It’s strange sometimes
To let light paint on your soul
A painting that it desires

It’s strange sometimes
To become a canvas for someone
And to let them hang you on the wall
After the painting is done

Potters Wheel

I want a potter’s wheel
On which I will shape my being
My dreams will be moulded with my own hands
My desires will be embedded in my dreams
I want a potter’s wheel
On which I will shape my being

I will spin his name on the wheel
And I will spin hers too
I will spin earth and sky together
And merge them into one
I want a potter’s wheel
On which I will shape my being

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It’s a cynical constellation
Where I belong
Living orally
Living long…

Singing aloud
Crying aloud
Laughing in isolation
Trotting along

And sometimes I wonder
The voice that escaped my throat
Is it mine?

Dream Wheel

Dream wheel rotates
I am tied to it
So I whir with it
And taste the earth

I also get to savour the sky
But silent stares tear me apart
I am tied to the wheel
I get wet and I dry

Dream wheel rotates
I rotate with it and witness life

Behind the Doors

And just when I thought
The lane was colourless
And beyond life
She opened up the sea of shades

It was a colourful world
Behind her doddering wooden door
Even her simple stainless steel utensils
Reflected life on the floor

Was it echolocation
Or simple violation of concealment
That revealed a whole swirl of life
Spilling enigma in my core

every happiness has a life

every happiness has a life... white noise (a movie by vinta nanda) begins with this line. made me feel that we dont live the happiness enough while it exists, thinking it will last forever... and of course it doesnt. we keep looking for some other happiness while this one lives its life and slips through our fingers leaving a wet feeling... A feeling that reminds us constantly of its 'once upon a time' existence, till the wet fingers dry.

drubken haze

I know you have a pair of flying shoes
You let your desires wear them often
Depriving your torn feet
Some times…

I know sun is hiding
Rain has extinguished its fire
I tramp on the damp sun
Trying to rekindle its pyre
My feet are numb
May be I could borrow you shoes
They would compliment my attire

I just realized
You stole my lighter from the car
To light the world with more desire

City of joy

Shared room, shared feelings, solo dreams
Shared plate, shared bed, solo screams
Life brushed with joy and smiles
Fake and rare, genuine or creamed

Pages are my only asset
Only assets that are mine
I spill black ink on them often
Hiding behind bolted doors
Sitting besides the inspiring maroon carpet
Later getting summoned by the guilt of it all

Blue Slaughter

Countless blue tongues wag in the air
Testing and tasting the atmosphere
And I create
A hungry blue stroke
Plunging into the sea of black
Waiting to devour darkness galore

berry berry addictive

leh berry juice rocks. got a pack and tried blending it with my favourite alcoholic fluids. here is a cocktail that worked on me...
pour in a goblet 30 ml of white rum, 30 ml of vodka, two caps of port wine and a swig of tequila (if you really want to feel the high from the first drink onwards). Top it with leh berry juice. its tangy taste mixed with the blissful booze gets you going man...
cheers!

colours of nostalgia

Ages ago
I had seen a dead rainbow
It was a puddle reflecting life
A result of a stormy night
That shone with oily colors
Swirls of red, yellow, green and white

I gathered it in my hands
And smudged some of it on my face
The remaining I poured on a silver platter
Little by little, feeling its dead plight

It fell with a bounce
Forming tiny globules of memories
That still roll on the platter of my mind

lost fragments

I sleep and I dream
Of those little fragments
That were separated from my being
And lie in different pockets of various cities
Waiting for me
To come back and collect them
Waiting for me to come…
Caress them in my hands
Whisper in their ears too
The sweet nothings of life
And tales untold by time

For those who love coffee and booze

coffee shot

60 ml of white rum
60 ml of black coffee
2 teaspoons of brown sugar
a swig of Gordons dry gin

Prepare strong black coffee. Add crystalised brown sugar. Cool. Pour in the Bacardi rum slowly, stirring gently. Add gin. Pour into a goblet. Top with whipped cream and raise a toast to addiction. Cheers!

Smell Of The Past

The touch of my mother
Has now turned into water
That runs in my body
And feeds the brain fodder
It dilutes my blood maybe

The soft edge of the earth
Reminds me of the end of her sari
She made the bells hung in the balcony tinkle
When she hung the clothes on the clothesline to dry

I called the child next door to drop by
I offered dreams on a tray shaped oval
And said visit me anytime
I am always in even if the space looks not occupied

The bells tinkled long after they stopped
I swayed in the house with the tray loaded with dreams
looking for the soft edge of the earth
Walking on the polished granite tiles

Untitled

Enigma or delirium
Passion or pain
Distinction is transparent
When feelings drip in vain

Each block of dream
Melts in the cauldron of desires
To give birth to souls
Souls without stains

Delusion or betrayal
Hope or blame
Distinction is transparent
When feelings drip in vain

Dreams have melted and desires are lame
Look at our beings gone insane
In the cauldron of desires, we emerge as blue
The colour of passion and love untamed

Force Within

I think
Dreams are delicately and passionately inflated desires
that encourage us to float in space and find our own way

In Small Pieces

My gaze bolts out like Arjuns arrow
Only to return cloaked with black
It is a strange destination
Where consumption and consumed
Sleep in the same crack

Life asks for an entire record of my age
But what do I say when my age seems trapped
I lie in a crack
Broken in small pieces
Sprawled somewhere on the track

Bracketed dreams
Pain me sometimes
Realized dreams tempt me
His power vanquishes me sometime
My weakness, another feeble dream

Is this making me one with the black
Where consumption and consumed
Sleep in the same crack?

Murky Dreams

Past swarms my head
Future intoxicates
I will meet you yet again
in the corridors of fate

We will be together
In some intangible way
Maybe I will grow
As a figment of your imagination

Maybe I will spread my being
On your blank canvas
Becoming a mysterious line
Guiding your gaze

Past swarms my head
Future intoxicates
I will meet you yet again
in the corridors of fate

Elimination
Separation
Digressions
Expectations…
I breathe in a fragrant maze

Dark nights urge me
To become a block of color
And I lie on the terrace
Letting the night rob me of my blaze

Past swarms my head
Future intoxicates
I will meet you yet again
in the corridors of fate

Symphony of love, death and life

Murky dreams
Dark smiles
Lusty walks
Intense miles
Fishing for happiness somewhere
We got drowned in lies

Contemplation
Anticipation
Making love
Digressing lines
On a café table we have laid them all tonight
And with our hands locked
We gaze intensely
At these pawns of our lives

Take flight
I urge my feelings to take flight
Scribble love on the walls
But do not etch it in my life
I urge all the pawns
To move out of my life

Mirage
Or shadows of light
Dance on the pores of my body…
I race them away
Haunting them with the picture of dying

Scribbled walls
Echo of mystical tales
Pawns move on their own on the table
Weaving a mesh
Locking our lives

© Juhi Dua 2004