Poems by Anjali Nair

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a poem by Anjali Nair

A torn piece of skin,
Bloodied and not too pretty-

Shall I post it on this website,
For others to touch and play with?

They wouldn’t know where it is from,
Or who tore it.

But they’d possibly read more into it than
You or I ever could.

So then shall I?
A clenched face as you read this?

Why?
Some kind of violation is it?

Of some weird secret code
That has woven its way between us?

To hoard the past and
Live on the crumbs that fall from those old moments.

Perhaps it is that storehouse that I want to raid
And donate generously

To one and all who wants to live a vicarious pain
And exhaust the pleasure I ever felt from it.

Me?

a poem by Anjali Nair

Opaque, that is what I want to be
Crystal clear, that is what I am-

Happy, that is how I would like to be
Numb, that is how I am-

Strong, that is who I want to be
Sensitive, that is who I am-

Now, that is where I want to be
Then, that is where I am-

Life, that is why I wish to be
God, that is why I am.

VM – just a few weeks ago

a poem by Anjali Nair

There is nothing between you and me
Then why is this so?
I am afraid I will lose grip…
Feel control slipping like sand through my fingers.

I don’t want to dream of anyone
But why does the rain on my window
Whisper your name in my ears
And touch me with your words?

Why do I find myself writing your name
On misty windows
And rubbing them away
Faster than I wrote them

You have no right to do this to me:
To dominate my life with your presence
But the strange thing is-
I don’t think, you even know…

Any comments?

a poem by Anjali Nair

Toasted to intelligence-
The urge to comment.
To lay the streak of judgement
On any surface anew.

To scratch the face of a nubile maiden
To scar deep, a wizened countenance-
The point is not the purpose of such defacing
But the question of leaving my mark on it.

Can’t a cloudless sky remain without a puff of sooty smoke?
Through a grey filter we see it, when the real sky is far beyond.
Why touch everything when the essence if that touch
Is to defile and neither to heal, nor to reveal?

Has the mind thought of sparing the surfaces
Has the mind stopped to look at those fingers?
Because it is dirty fingers
That leave the worst marks.

Numb by fate

a poem by Anjali Nair

Out of rhythm,
out of base-
moving somewhere,
not in the race.

Not negative, not positive,
no charge of any kind-
attractions, repulsions,
leave them behind.

Doesn’t make a difference,
who’s there, who cares-
far from concern about
what Fate declares.

The indefatigable Inevitable
will be the Queen-
overruling opportunities
seen and unseen.

Waiting

a poem by Anjali Nair

I shall wait…

till Kingdom comes,
till the sun rises,

till the cake is baked,
till the coffee is brewed,

till the bell rings,
till the lights go out,

till your skin glows,
till your eyes close,

till things change,
till life turns around,

till you forget,
till you remember,

till time tells,
till time heals the wound,

till the ice is broken,
till the rain subsides,

till the cars pass,
till the green signal,

till the next song,
till quiet comes over,

till the doors open,
till the curtains are drawn,

till it is my turn.