RSS Feed

Tag Archives: born

“Just Poems” – Nayana Nair

My mind that understands
is chained and crippled by its understanding.
It only tries to understand new words
by comparing it to
what has already written or read.
It only understands feelings in terms of
the pain it has given
or all it has suffered.

-o-

So when I stand in front of the doors of a poem
feeling the sting of December winds on my back.
When I ring the doorbell
and hear from other side “May I come inside?”
I immediately know that this not something
that I understand,
that there is a difference
in reading as if
sitting on the couch in a stranger’s house
waiting to be entertained
and reading as if
I have let the stranger in my own mind
and allowed him to change
the view I have of this world.

-o-

Some poems are not just poems.
They are voices that never die
because they have never been born.
They are ghosts that we have always wanted to haunt.
They are names we give to our own suffering,
a closure that only we can give to ourselves.

“Smoke” – Nayana Nair

b0aa0efb3d3c229ef4adf21062795a21--umbrella-photography-smoke-photography

The lone trail of smoke
spreads over the dreams
we set free in our self.
Another spark lost
in the sad fate of invisibility
that it was born with.

“Essential” – Nayana Nair

superthumb

No suffering is born encased in a bubble of silence,
and maybe that’s why my throat hurts as I try not to scream.
But even when the world forgets to pay me any heed
and to all the parts I want to hide.
I continue to mistake the faults I am hiding
as the some essential part of who I am.
I mistake hiding as the purpose I was born for.

“Burnt Dreams” – Nayana Nair

flower-tumblr-wallpaper7

My night melts into dreams of you
and even when I loose my dream
I loose my sleep,
the night stays with me.
The broken strand of hair on my shoulder
could have been your tear
if it had not passed through this night
I live with,
if it was not born in the fragile dream
that you are.

“Just Us” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

F

The sounds long dead and are born again
as the crack appears in time
and you walk into these arms
swallowing the sun,
swallowing the world,
leaving just us,
just me
looking at your memory passing me by.

“Keys” – Nayana Nair

large

The keys beneath my finger
are tired of creating words and sounds,
that live too less and die too soon,
because they couldn’t breathe
in the air devoid of you.
Bigger waves of noises
drag them, drown them
and lose them to the place
where they lived before they were born.
They wait in the crowd of wannabe songs
only to become calluses of forsaken hands.

“Burn the Flowers” – Nayana Nair

tumblr_static_tumblr_static_59wmar81idss8wc4cook8gkg8_640

Your severe gaze
resounds and echoes
the meanness only humans have.
But your hands melt at anything you touch
so that nothing,
even water,
is disturbed by your presence
in this world.
How did you learn
make that face
that kept people at distance
and kept them on their toes.
How hard was it
roam in this world (that you loved too much)
knowing everything would hurt you,
and knowing the defeat at the face of the war
that you never wanted
and you can never win.
How hard is it,
to burn the flowers
born out of your soul
only so people would
avoid the impending disaster
that you are not.

Jumbled Letters

Shadows to reflection, they all whisper silent tales.

Salmon Brook Farms

Official Home of Lavinia and Rick Ross

Tootlepedal's Blog

A look at life in the borders

The Stories In Between

Author River Dixon

BEYOND THE END

Find your way. Make it sparkle.

Chasing Serenity with a Lens

Nature + A Camera = Therapy/Books, Imagination and Chocolate = Happiness

bushboys world

Photos of my world and other stuff I hope you will enjoy too. Photos taken with Canon PowershotSX60HS Photos can be purchased.

RyanPhotography

Images brought to you by Bren and Ashley Ryan

Dancing to the Words

A Journey Towards Self

allysoally

In real life.....

Blognotizen

in Wort und Bild

Alois Absenger

NATUR - HIGHLIGHTS - S√úDSTEIERMARK - KUNST trifft NATUR

The World according to Dina

Notes on Seeing, Reading & Writing, Living & Loving in The North

Sosparkly Design

Peace, zen, beauty, nature, gardens, quirky - Sosparkly Design...

P.A. Moed

Creative Exploration in Words and Pictures

in cahoots with muddy boots

Cooking, gardening, traveling and photographing around the globe

Adventures in Wonderland

a pilgrimage of the heart