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Writer's pictureMarías at Sampaguitas

8 Poems by Shreyaa Tandel



eye

thou was sleep; and i was the eye who longed for thy.

as i see

the trees still, move by the faster grey browns blur..

as i see crowds pausing and

and singing a clamor of an opera as i see one of me on me

with wretch with rage

with a emptiness, i see.

as i sec the skies white and bright

as the sun took the throne

and with the years of moments, o so many, passing by; it melting into the pink and violet skies crowned the moon

i saw all of it as the day passed

bringing the the night long awaited as i could close me and cherish thy

but then i sec you run away from me,

untie it all and leave in a mirage i never thought of and i marry my old friend, that are tears

who come and see me as i wrinkle and close myself in your musing

and then they spread kissing my cheeks and spreading in the night beneath me.



wind

And one day, the winds

Of siesta hours came from the south east

It was a cool breeze, when maria was lost in the tune

Of a foreign song on her, beloved gramophone

Which stopped as the wind wanted to have a talk,

It was tempted to sing a song to her she recalled,

She recalled it being in a hurry as it had to headaway

To skies not known


It sang a nostalgic clamor, a song of the heart

A song of kisses for nothing

A song like poetry, a song like no other; she said

It went like “what is even life, if it is bereft you?

The flowers bloom and the heart wilts

The heart ashes, when the cotton water from above tilts;

There’s a void now, that you have left

The void where I gave your place to three thing that I have

Pain, tears, and tuneless sound of the rusty guitar

I hope you pardon me for that


I remember how you looked at me, the little strawberry mark

That I had on my chin which you adored,

Now that thy is wordless

I shall revere thy, and persuade the little idiot

Which is my heart about your being, about your well being

From the way I breathe”

It sang the things she scribbled in the last page

Of her math book, when she was 15 summers old

And how greenness and love parted

A strange wind it was she said, in the end



Another scream

Another day

Another place

People being appalled,

Disgusted, and helpless

People being sickening

Monstrous and inhumane.

Victimizing the innocent, the faultless

A young man going to work, a child departing from school

A milkman on the way, and a recluse with his cigar

The eyes under the dark veils withered

And turned violet,

Crying for help,

Shattered, fatally bare, bawling

& helpless; every minute.



Let it be

let the tresses be untied

Let them rest over your face,

Making a crescent moon

Just let them be, just leave them


Let the sun rest on your palm,

Making the night for the red moon,

Which bleeds to adorn your palm; and feet

Making it fragrant, let it be...


Let the curtains remain closed for a longer while today,

Let the night of rest, the day full of siesta hours be

Let your resplendent face rest on my chest,

While I sing you with my eyes

Just let everything rest, just let everything be.



Night

The night is passing by

And the wait elongates

Sleepless; yet the night flies

The promises tall made, easily slipped off the head

The candle refuses to douse

As the eye is opened wide

As the night passes by...


The eve of rift, unfortunate is upon

As the body hovers and beckons thy in cry

The eyes remain unquenched

And the night just passes by; like it holds a dusk

And endless dusk



Snow White & The seven dwarves

The mirror mirror on the wall,

Of many blue blooded winters and of the wretched fall,

Was spelled by a priest, to lie

For the evil god mother to be satisfied, to be fed

she beckoned her step daughter often, this time

with a poisoned fruit. She sent her to her void

where she resided in the cottage where her recluse self lived;

she met the famous seven dwarves there

one was called despondent, one awaited death

another one was called agony, and the other one called pain

the one who always accompanied her in the cottage was called cries

her favorite one was siesta, and one who looked her from afar was happy

she embraced them all, as they entered within her

and left to an unknown smoky juncture, with paths not known, and bereft any prince.



Nafeesa

I lied around in the summer spring once,

Roofless, in the backyard.

And she, with her anklet conversing the air

And humming a folklore and a tint of zeal

Came to me, sat besides me and pushed my uneven long hair back

Arranged my silver earrings; came to me, and dragged me outside

When I was in the company of the blue wide, and solitude

We sat together sharing good laughs; and held a moment of love

As we caressed each other’s faces, slowly, with eyes closed.

We saw a bit more into each other, through the soul’s aperture

And love’s eye; near the riverine of tears

Somewhere away we went, in our own stratosphere.



Foreigner

The typical smell of bleach

And of the clothes washed and pressed,

Greeted a passerby, who left with the sense of

Familiarity.

A cup of sugary double creamed tea

Got closer to him and starred,

Directly in his eye,

as he blew it’s fragrant steam hot.

He once sighed in the same room, he remembers,

In the days of summer.

Now his tired, pale yellow and red eyes

Carelessly looked around, felt like it was ages

He looked around and the dusty fan, was still performing

His routine old clamored song.

He dipped in wistfulness, the popular word nostalgia they say;

In his dining room.

He cried a tear or two, as he embraced an age old hearty glee

Locking the doors of his void.




Shreyaa Tandel is a self-established poet, or you can say amateur poet, from India. Her poems "Inadvertently Alive", "Virgin" and "Blackhole" have been published in the blue pages lit, and vamp cat magazine respectively. When she isn't writing or is glued in front of a computer/cell phone screen, she spends time singing north Indian classical music and reading the Bhagwad Gita and pretending very hard to be happy, even though she isn't. You can reach her at shreyaatandel1526@gmail.com

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