Stationary

Yes I will
I will.
Standin’ around for the sake of standing
Stationary
Everyone thinks they are going somewhere
Even the clouds are departing now
Huntless travelers.
When everything is moving
The traveler is the one standing still.
I had a dream last night
that I was standing next to you.
But we can't trust these dreams any longer
Their truth is as rare
as blood on water
They have no pity for human souls.
So now I stand alone.
Sunday Monday
doesn’t deserve this kind of thought.
Wednesday is the day where the people wake up
Wake up out of exhaustion
they get high when they’ve got nothing left to live on
When the sleep has run out
and the sunburnt night can’t sleep.
I shall awake.
I will.
Yes I will.

Well

Do you see the lights
Shivering in the darkness
at the edge of the water?
How much warmer the reflections
seem to be upon the well water;
Beckoning warmth from you heart
to fill the shivery depths of the well
and light the rims of that round
chasm of water.
-like gold rings to protect you
a ring of fire encircling you
in the darkness
How the rings of light
are cast upon the age-old stone
drawing me to the middle of the well
Leaves and murk drift in the water
Leaves flutter with the fish of darkness
And the snails snuggle
along the muddy ground, with sharp
stones and the water of the well.
Forgotten garlands of marigold
float in the water
Twisting and tangling as if to strangle
some hopeful throat that reaches
for that warmth
of the candle
on the step
next to the water.
My feet are wet
and my toes snuggle in the soft mud
That glows faintly like glory
In that stout candle’s flame
So brave, in this dimly lit cavern
of the well.
The water is cold
And my clothes are dried of sweat
Do you know how much I love you?
The candle won’t burn forever
And the light won’t last the cold
It is time for bed
So sink you’re knees
in the mud with me
Wet our foreheads with the light
that is reflected from the candlelight.
The ripples leave my fingers as if
stealing my love
and chasing it up the well walls
in ringlets of light
that go playing up the wall of stone
Leave your jewels in the water
Leave you jewels in the water
See the hidden crickets chirping
a nightsong silently to me.
They tell me of my dream
And lies I’ve believed,
the candlelight is waking me up,
before I bury my feet in the cold mud
I cut off my hair
where it bothers me most
And tie the rest back.
I cover myself in the shawl
I wrap it around my shoulders and arms
I get out of that water of the well
I heat and fireflies poach the water
from my feet and my toes are warm.
I step into my shoes
I leave the well
I love you
I love you
But do not turn around to look back
into the depth of that well
and its little lights
That candle will go out
in its own time.
No need to sing that song again
You know where to go
And so do I
You know where to go
And so do I.

Priyanka
Jan. 2010

Tired

On the road,
in a class
At the door
walking past;
There are faces
I yearn to know
I need to meet
But cannot reach.

The inability to express
The inability to shout
The inability to scream
A prisoner to doubt.

I cannot say what binds me so.
I am happy with a moment or two
of anger. To get me by.
I do not have the energy any longer
to fight.

I have fought and I have won,
and what have I gained,
but fire in my belly
and fire in my heart.

All the steam is rising
from the lake of my dissension.
I long to rest,
and feel the softness
of a kindred face-
To touch the wounds
of a blundering soul.
Someone to forgive
the crimes of angry nights,
And tell tales of struggles past
and overcome.

The fire still burns-
the embers low
The coals still glowing
with hungry heat.
I slave to cast away the fuel
Of my anger, and my wrath
For its hunger eats me up
Sucks the vigor from my limbs.

I sleep, and in dreams I see
Strangers that I love
and strangers that love me.
They say love is a decision
But I cannot afford to hate.

Lest it darken coming nights
Harden the sunset, once so bright
Turn the working hands to stone
Turn a life to brittle bone.
No one can afford to hate.

The sun is gone
The stars awake
The dreams begin
I lie awake.
No will to fight
A hopeless night…
What is there to do
but love, and wait?

Priyanka
24 October 2009

Unliving

Doubt flickers
inside the box..
for where there used to be life
there is only peace

In the constant movement
of the holding hands
She finds extreme irritation
in the fiery palm-lines.

She suddenly finds
something against life
and movement
and pain and joy.

But the possession
of this demon
passed away
and life comes and goes
along its own way.

Its impossible to judge
when or where or why
anything happens,
anything is done to us,
by ourselves.
I see your heart
Always returning to
the one place
where everything is meant to be.
But is it your heart
or simply a dream,
or a hope,
or a deep desire for goodness?

Where is the truth;
so lost in the mists of myth?
Where is the simplicity;
lost in the multiple facets of reality?
Where is the surrendering;
so essential to the beating of the heart-
but seems so abstract, so buried
Hiding beneath my feet
Crawling around
where it can’t be reached.

oh, breathing
of the summer air.
Is it any cooler up there?

Priyanka
15 April 2009