RSS Feed

Tag Archives: door

“Smile and Call it Love” – Nayana Nair

From the day that I resolved
to create a door in my life
for you to move out me,
to forget you,
to even hate you, if it becomes necessary.
I thought resolve was all I needed
to get rid of the poison that you had become,
to create space for myself to grow into,
if I had to grow without love or understanding anyway.

I sorted myself and my memories
keeping only the ones that would help me
convince myself that you were bad for me,
that your love could blossom only
in the season of your selfishness,
the season where I was expected to wilt for your sake
and smile when you called it love.

I tried to remember
everything that I read in your mannerisms everyday,
everything I had overlooked as visions caused by my paranoia,
everything that came true,
everything that would have been true, only if I had let you.

I know,
I know that you were not evil,
but only human.
I know that I may have made you bleed
more that I can admit.
But I am also only a human.
Maybe I could have accepted your human nature
if my weakness, my complexes, my cruel words
could have been understood by you as well.

At some point
there was nothing you could do for me
than to remind me of my monstrosity everyday,
than to wait for me to breakdown.
At some point
there was nothing that I could do
than to walk away
and try to hate you.

“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.

“When you found my door…” – Nayana Nair

39995086_292642604660564_6620440539139407872_n

When you found my door
I was in my workshop
in the middle of chiseling and crafting my memories
Now I am half made up and half real
and there is no point of opening this door
and forcing you to accept a half that you won’t like.

“Less Than Half” – Nayana Nair

tumblr_n0dpf7k3IE1t0mtd7o1_500

The moment I pass any door
a part of my brain whispers-
too many people,
watch you step and watch your tongue,
lest you want to be branded as one of those women
that you are are and aren’t at the same time.
For if you are not careful enough
you will soon believe everything that people say about you
as you are doing right now.
Right now only half of you exist in this body.
I know this because that is what I was calculating
in the class of areas and volumes,
as teacher taught how we determine
the volume the water left at in a cylinder of flesh
once it starts leaking from all the words that have pierced it.
Or that’s what I heard at least.
I got had good score for that class
and I got called many more names.
A little more of me seeped out
and now I am less than half of what I was.
I know this because I have lost my friends
(maybe they see I am no longer me).
I know this because my heart no longer protests
when I hear people calling me by wrong names.

“New Fact” – Nayana Nair

539da2886a0dd4e65cec3ed0555e394bac6d70e1_hq

All that you don’t know of,
all that I fear
stands behind the door,
waiting for the right time to ring the bell,
to call you out for a moment
so that it can tell you about
the mistake that has been made.
“All-that-you-do-not-know-of-yet”
has brought you someone with deeper love and better heart
and shows her off as they new discovery, the new fact,
discusses with you how to go on about correcting
all the text, all the promises, and all the future plans.
I look at her, looking at you
and I see what I must have looked like
when once I found your door
and was happy to find my rightful place.
While you nod your head along
thinking, considering
how to tell me that I need to get going
that there is not much space for misunderstandings
and no time for crying over what must be done.
Yesterday, I loved you.
Yesterday, you loved me back.
Today, my depth are the new shallow.
Today, you can only give me as much attention as
a passing cloud in the sky.

“My Character” – Nayana Nair

12783894-767319363401347-1665628170-n_orig

The crowd, every crowd-
they exhaust me
and frighten me.
They take away air around me
and tell me to leave myself at the door,
if I want to come in.
They like to stare a lot,
they like to condition my mind, my eyes to look away when they stare.
Is this the point
where I am supposed to sit down with a sigh
and tell a sad story-
about how I was wronged (isn’t everyone?),
how they never apologized,
how there was nothing to apologize for,
how people find it easier to support the one in wrong,
how it is easier to hate myself that to hate so many people.
The most painful but convenient words that I can tell myself-
“maybe they were right” “i took it too personally”.
How the result of telling someone all this
are more words like these-
“you are not the only one, it happens, it is normal”
“don’t make a big deal of it”.
Is there any end to what one must hear and suffer
just to give an explanation that people want so badly to hear
and are more desperate to brush off as weakness of my own character.

“Thorn” – Nayana Nair

tumblr_nv5nc3L6KA1qfm2kmo1_500

You are a thorn in my heart
that only hurts, that only digs deeper
when in rare moments
I find my way to doors in my life
that can’t be opened now
and I stand helplessly in front of you
whom I no longer love.
When you utter the same words
but they sound different
and I realize that I have never been around
to notice this change.
We may walk in a present
disconnected from our feelings in past.
We are nothing to each other now.
Your sorrows are no longer due to my mistakes
and I feel nothing but relief for that.
But sometimes,
only sometimes
an unfulfilled dream breathes in me
refusing to die,
for it is happy to have you around.

Poesie visuelle/Visual Poetry

Un blog experimental voue a la poesie du quotidien sous toutes ses formes/An experimental blog devoted to poetry in all its forms

Making memories

inesemjphotography

Vogelknipser

Ich bin oftmals mit meinem WOMO und meiner Kamera unterwegs zu den Naturschutzgebieten. Als Natur- und Tierliebhaber geht dabei nichts ohne meine Kamera. Besonders begeistert mich die Vogelwelt. Darum nannte ich meinen Blog ... Vogelknipser.

Zoolon Hub

New Album Out Now - See Discography

Vrunda Chauk

Applying Positive Psychology in a fun way!

WordsVisual

Mostly photographs with some words by this arty scientist...

The Cheesesellers Wife

Anything and Everything, but mostly Poetry

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.....