A true poem

“I fall upon the thorns of life- I bleed” said  Shelley

 I have to say, I write exams- I cry

I have respectfully mourned the loss of Brit lit-2 for almost a day

That went with the wind

And each time I think about it

I know it is more far than I wrote

 “Poetry is recording mind’s growth” Yeats said

And Ezekiel followed it

Now, Jessy follows Ezekiel

I'm determined to capture the growth of my mind

With MA English literature

I can write assignments

Make presentations

When it comes to end sem exams

They scared me

With such a fright that I could only cry

I alienated myself

I disconnected my feelings

And tried to live like a zombie

Trying not to think of God

Hardening my heart

Hoping that I could give commands to my brain to study

Like a master to a robot

I was successful in a way

I thought of God only during mass and before I slept

But that thought was a one , one and a half thought

I wept in bed

Perplexed what came over me

Why I am scared to face an exam

A feeling I’ve never known

Maybe I’ve thought that God was a lucky charm

Used him to feel secure

God is a not a luck or charm

He is not a dustbin for my insecurities

 Or maybe he takes my fears and consoles

I like the way He says “ exams are not the end of the world”

I brainstormed to find out what went wrong with Brit Lit- 2

 I felt miserable

I was wrong

Slowly it came  to me

There are many things I take for granted

Expect words to flow

As my pen touches the exam paper

Now, I’m a little rusted

Plus

Lazy to write

How can words flow?

Then I began to write

It was difficult

But I tried words began to flow again

I got stuck and then I got scared

I fear if I’ll remember what I read

I have read that fear is a illusion

‘Maya’ The way Sita was anxious about Rama

I can’t let this fear overcome me

I have to write and practise

Till it flows again

And the gentle gurgle of words upon the answer sheet

Will make a sweet song

And delight!

I have to do what I fear

And hope that the fear will depart

It is like my faith journey

Facing my worst fears slowly day by day

And I’m afraid no more

I’m not troubled if words will flow tommorrow

I’m not sure if it will

I should not care much about that

I concern myself with the present

 Reading poetry

Critical  essays

Recall the stories 

Put them in my own words

And speak my mind

I’m not at peace

There is something amiss

Pause, think

I cant find it

I only pray for the grace to write

Truthfully

Sincerely

Lovingly

And make a prayer like St Augustine

“Let me know myself….. Let me love thee”

( a poem by Jessy Akkara James, My good friend. Published with permission. 

© Jessy Akkara James.)

he he..

"evanoa oruvan vaasikkiRaan...iruttilirundhu naan yaasikkiRaen

thavam poal irundhu yoasikkiRaen adhaith thavaNai muRaiyil naesikkiRaen"

I don't search for her any more.

She had been lost.

good for me.

Good bye.

I wish to say that to you every day.

Good bye.

A Thing Of Imperfection Is A Joy Forever.

A day

That changed my life

Hatred churned and made me evil

I knew I was becoming mad with pressure

Nothing could console me, my best friend messaged

Guilt does not come from God

Okay, I messaged back

Friend, a true friend he is

In spite of this, I sulked

Memories double strength when they hurt

Purposefully I chose to not give myself any hope

Eternally I was apologizing

Returning like a dog to its vomit

Forever I am doomed I thought

Every day the same excuse

Cursing my mother for my faults

Tormenting

I will never improve

Only write poems that are

Nonsense

I know

Somewhere

A flicker

Jerks my insides, I remember the days of

Old

Young

Feebleness

Orientated me to trust my God – “The

Rogue, who on the cross

Ever innocent, mutilated himself

Voicing his love for me

Ever perfect, I am a thing of Imperfection a joy

foRever

( a poem by Jessy Akkara James, My good friend. Published with permission. 

© Jessy Akkara James.)

Bright eyes

For Sherin who always reminds me about the light at the end the tunnel.

“And if I told you that I loved you

You'd maybe think there's something wrong

I'm not a man of too many faces

The mask I wear is one

Those who speak know nothing

And find out to their cost

Like those who curse their luck in too many places

And those who fear are lost”

                               - Sting, Shape of my Heart.

A mixture of colors reflected in her eyes, as she ferociously read through a mysterious book.  The lights journeyed from near and far, But they made their way into her eyes.

She had a few more hours in her hand before she reached her destination. As her train was moving ahead there was a sense of anxiety in her, A few questions were running in her mind. 

These questions always haunted her just before she could sleep, and they also caused her nightmares. She was with her family but it did not seem that way. She was in her own world. Wondering about crucial issues that the world faced, which included the recent break up that she had experienced. Also the state of her friends, bothered her a lot. 

She had many friends, and they were an integral part of her world. Her friends were all unique and the one thing that always haunted her was that they had nothing in common.She had already spent a fews years trying to figure out at common streak in all of them but expect the fact that were somehow friends nothing really came up.

Wondering about the journey ahead she wished for the company of her friends. As she always had a good time with her friends every time they travelled together. She had the kind of upbringing that people would always dream of. Loved and pampered by all. 

Remember how we grew up in stages and act stupidly at constant intervals, yup the same thing that makes us human. At the next station, She observed how there were people eagerly waiting to get into the train and some people were waiting for the next train. Life is a journey is it not? 

Now there lived a certain someone in this state, whom she had forgotten, or as Ambika would say this certain someone was living rent free in her heart and mind. There was a chill in her spine when suddenly she thought of him. It had been a few years now that they spoke to each other. Love has this gift of memories that pour out in our hearts each time we feel special, that includes this silence that she was experiencing at the moment. 

She wanted to sleep but could not, the memories kept coming back. She wanted to weep but did not know what others will think about it. Whose fault was it, well lets just say that both wanted to be politically correct and both had their way. And now she was lonely with a new bunch of friends. These days she started finding joy in her 

She decided to continue reading the book that she had but the light was not sufficient and time was moving slow. The destination was approaching and she was a little anxious. She always believed that things happen for a reason. But now she could not see that reason anymore, And that is how the lights made their exist just as they arrived. 

Good bye.

at 12:26 pm IST
i realize that its not worth it

i will...

quit.

Stories of many heart's.

From a blank parking lot

of a call center,

Where frustrated individuals wait for 

Their cabs to find some rest.

Questions arise that won't

let me sleep.

They haunt me till late in the afternoon,

And then for a while, 

I sleep.

Dreaming about stories that were 

My routine once. 

Stories, oh how they excite you

You seem to forget that they are packed 

With propaganda and marketing tricks.

 our on-screen time has to be a scared space.

We now live in many realities.

Meaning is all mixed up.

And these tales have,

Only misery in them.

how do stories come into being?

how did the story of the "story" begin?

did it also have beginning, middle and end.

story ends.

Every day at 3 AM

I remember her.

There is a urge to listen,

to be in love.

to give it all once again.

to live in different time zones.

to check if there is a mail in the inbox.

to remind about the glass of milk.

to put you to sleep in silence.

It hurts everyday,

It really does I am not exaggerating.

Loved ones can hurt better than enemies.

The wounds that they leave have scars that wont fade.

Happy to let you know that 

I am still lost.

who ever finds me,

will get a reward,

me.

there is a mask on the table,

right in the middle,

that's the one you wore today.

there are many masks

that you carry on your backpack,

and for emergencies you have a few

which are handy in your head.

and now you will blame your

circumstances that compel you

to wear them.

Forgot to mention that You and I

are doing a good job.

We have both learnt to

lie looking right into their eyes.

If you say you have found solace,

do write a mail about it to me,

or put in a blog post and send me the link.

Will go through them and get back to you.

I must mention this gracious visitor,

from russia,

thank you for your time.

love you.

We all fight our battles,

some visible 

others are fought deep inside,

In silence.

the fights that once,

we were willing to die for 

Are the ones that we are giving up now.

May we have love

that will make us

whole again.

just to love,

the ones that really matter.

you will find better love.

see you soon.

bittersweet love.

there is more to it than it seems

there are multiple meanings

look underneath the surface

story begins.

a.

The Routine.

Its begun again,
the routine.
hope this does not end
in a sacrifice,

Voice now,
face later,
social status,
where are you headed this time?

how does it feel to be in the race again?
don't kill yourself like this.

Love fails.

Its the very nature of love,

To let go.

Cause if it holds on, 

Thats only you,

Not the other one.

lies are true.

Will the road where you
stand and picture him
lead you to him.

does that mean that
we are still friends

now that I know
who you are.

Need a break.

She's fed up
with the stupidity of this
world

She says that needs
a break

a break from
what I ask.

and she says that
she just wants
to be with her friends
for a while

and so I smile...

and we start talking
about dinner..... :):)

Stenographer (i did not write this, It was written for me by a loved one)

match the following.
there is a gap
a very slight gap
between
His soul
and my body
and my soul
and his body.

a dream.
a leaf.
catastrophohy.
death.
distance.

note: lack is structural.
diffrence exceeds structure.
what are you doing?
loving you.
I wanna marry a poet.

Silent Helpings.(i did not write this, It was written for me by a loved one)

I make you wait.

I make you cry

For joy.

I make you sing my lullabies.

LIke a storm in the snow

Like a calm in the warm

Like everything in the muddle of the brain.

Like singing in the sky

The blue evening sky

Enchanting, wonderful evening sky.

Like strength and wonder

And words and time.

Play in language

Words=Meanings attached.

Meanings, shmeanings can go haywire.

I have you.

I make you wait.

And I love you