Skip to main content

I Make Your Art

I make melodies with my mouth,
I run these bleeding fingers down south,
My heart separates to soothing strings,
Oh please help me, hide my fallen wings.

I dance around to shades of moonbeam,
I serenade your presence in my dream,
This darkness escapes my grasp,
My ear searches your clap.

I made another world today,
I gave something, I took away,
Please don't abscond me,
For my sins in a fantasy.

I laughed on the stage again,
I played with my pain,
For the whole world may see my excellence,
My simplicity seeks your credence.

I put up a face to fight,
I hid my debilitated might,
Beneath those inebriated bandages,
My existence dwells in your cages.

I saw this empty orchestra,
I was dressed in magenta,
Were you standing behind that blinding light?
Did you come to bless my plight?

I lied to you now and then,
I professed the impossible and made it happen,
My tricks vanished with your fascinations, 
My reality is your aberration. 

I removed my facade,
I saw the light fade,
Soul seeped out through embroidered sheaths,
Couldn't you hold on to the last piece?


Comments

  1. :)
    Your poems never fail to bring a smile on my face Sagnik!
    Loved this one too...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Penny for a thought?

These glances make acquaintances, subtle and momentous. Of all places, you chose a drenched park bench to seek warmth. There's a buffer between us, a small inclined field of human absence where our coffee cups touch. They have our names in grandiose misspelling. A penny for your name? Another evening, I'm on the opposite side of the road. The street light sneaks through the crowd and falls on your trembling arm. Those lifeless fingers so catastrophically puppeteered on ivory, to cast a defunct melody, reverberating from tinted windows upon my ear. I'm reduced to a standstill and you recede in perpetuity. A penny for your voice? A vision for it's difficult to differentiate from dreams. The bed leaves a small clearance from the wall. Your silhouette, looks down this finite chasm and the darkness fails to hide those strained veins in your eyes. They drip all that was unspoken into that narrow space. The wall is so cold and aloof as it touches your cheek. A whirlwind d...

Home

Creaking doors in tumble down corridors Give away at the slightest push, Trembling legs make it to rest, As this ruse slowly strips away. The dilapidated bed struggles to support a fall, As the shabby blanket embraces a hollow form, Winds howls in through cracks in the window, And the moon checks in from time to time. Eyes peer through this veil of darkness, Light fades in the distance, Ever falling towards the seedy underbelly, Yet never reaching. The dusty floor covered in heaps of clothing, Cleverly conspires with the scorching heat, To hide those tears, That pour out from irreparable gaps of the heart. Wails from some invisible corner, Rouses from a sleepless slumber, Who is this shrunk, morose figure, That begs to leave. The mouth of a well, Overlooks the cold reservoir, Tugging at the damp rope, Oblivious of no escape. Dull and musty curtains, Waving in sympathy, Mourning at the dire sight, Of a soul trapped within itself. Loud knocks and comfo...

Damaged Goods

Do you remember the day? When the heap gave away, Crumbling down as I stood, Even I was rendered damaged goods. Pour some malt through the cracks, And watch as it spills out, The stars look beautiful from a windowsill, The ache muffles you whenever you speak. Empty benches and dry fountains, Cold gusts and tattered blankets, Triumphant endeavors and bolstered hopes, Those painful melodies ringing in heart holes. How long will you sit there? And bear the scrutiny of unkind eyes, Oh, foolish mind, you murder yourself behind closed doors, Over afflicted horrors and lost causes. How long does it take? To strip down all those deceitful layers, Those masked truths, those dark mirrors, Do the tears help? Or do they just aggravate? Running through your shallow veins, Of different colour and make, Illusionist in function, numbing in effect, A bed of pitiful expulsions it lays. These same veins bleed out ink, On papers dirty and clean, Of intimate words and excru...