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Monthly Archives: September 2017

Not so brave

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Our hearts too break not easily,
We are not made so brave;
There’s ever a fragment left, and we
Have still a heart to save.

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“Young Grief”- Edward Sapir

“Too late to care” – Nayana Nair

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There are moments of indifference
that once piled up
seems more than the years I have lived.
There are too many memories
where I cannot see anyone but myself
running around in a dark cave
afraid of everything I bump into.
Not knowing that even if I shout
if anyone would hear,
sometimes fearful of who might hear me.

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And even though
you are out of your cave
and I am out of mine.
Now when we can see all the things we couldn’t.
Now when we can really see each others scars.
Now when we have the luxury to know each others pain.
We feel
it is better to pretend we are still in our caves.
For too many things have been done,
too many words have been said.
And we do not remember answers to question
that we wanted each other to ask.

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“Love you better” – Nayana Nair

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I thought I could love you better
if I knew you better.
But I realised,
‘what you are’
is a burden to you.
And you never wanted to be loved for what you are.
You wanted to be loved
in spite of what you are.

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“Loss” – Nayana Nair

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Surely we have
at least a page in every book we write,
where we brood over
all the things we lost.
And I have often found that page to be
most meaningful.
As if we become better humans
by this loss.
Often on those pages,
I have realized,
not all losses
are to be cried upon.

“Meet Somewhere” – Nayana Nair

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My hands
have always been empty
even with
your hands to hold.
Let’s meet somewhere
where you need not be seen,
where I need not be invisible.

“Blue” – Nayana Nair

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You once sat on my shore.
You fell in love with the water
in which ships, treasures and lives were lost.
The same ocean is taking you in today.
You told me, the drops of sea reamining on your hands
yearn to touch my eyes again.
If so,
why wasn’t I taken away?
Why am I on the other side of glass
of this body that won’t sink.
Why does it have to be me?
Me, who so loved the boy who played at my shore.
Why did you come this far
only to die by my hands?
Why did you seek the one you cannot have?
Why couldn’t you stay on land
and look at me
and believe the lie of calmness?
Believe that I am most beautiful blue ever.

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“Wandered too far” – Nayana Nair

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Have we wandered too far away
from where
once lived our dreams?
It’s a long walk
and dark thoughts chase me
on this sunny day.
Smile at me once more.
So that I know there is not only one place,
not only one way to dream.

Park Bench Tales and other writings

Thoughts and writings reflecting the poet within and the activist

Pix to Words

Photographically Inspired Writing

Il Canto delle Muse

La cosa importante è di non smettere mai di interrogarsi. La curiosità esiste per ragioni proprie. Non si può fare a meno di provare riverenza quando si osservano i misteri dell'eternità, della vita, la meravigliosa struttura della realtà. Basta cercare ogni giorno di capire un po' il mistero. Non perdere mai una sacra curiosità. ( Albert Einstein )

Cichy zakątek poezji

Miłość nie istnieje w sobie, ale w nas, jest naszym osobistym dziełem. " - Marcel Proust

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Discussions on life influences and travels

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the breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you... ~ Rumi

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Giving Voice to My Astonishment

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Sharing my journey in and out of the garden

Wild Daffodil

the joy of creativity

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Gardens, food, and local pleasures