RSS Feed

Tag Archives: space

“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.

“Better Ways” – Nayana Nair

eb2ddb9240c0f887f51232ce1fb85977

So much of
what I have and what I like
becomes
a statement of who I am,
that now before liking anything new
I am looking only at my own collage
and where it fit in there.
There is too little space
and too many eyes.
I am too small to take in all this
and give home to all that I love.
There are better ways to exist
and better ways to love.
But not many ways to embrace life
while keeping myself and my image intact.

“Fine and Minute” – Nayana Nair

68747470733a2f2f692e70696e696d672e636f6d2f373336782f35632f36322f31632f35633632316334356631326464343664626339373033656561653432323336612d2d70696e6b2d706f7765722d72616e676572732d70696e6b2d

I thought I am getting better
when I found a little more space in me for life
than what I thought I had.
When I stopped trying to hide it from my own eyes
and let small birds perch on its rusted edges
all long as they please.
But when they fly away, their voices
slowly disappears and reappears
disperses and dissolves in the air,
reminding me of days I existed
in pieces so fine and minute
that
I found myself
lacking voice, wants, or ambition.
Slowly becoming the air and food for
someone else’s need.
I find that the pain never passes.
It only forgets itself until it touches
the edges that once cut through it.
But not everything it touches has that same edge
and between the sudden encounters
with the lookalikes of what I was,
I can rest, I can breathe.

“Version” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

2b831e07-a1c1-4a71-ada4-9096559fa145

Sometimes the hatred, the bias that
people around him smoked
sticks to his clothes, his skin, his tongue
when I come near him.
He can wash it from himself with a sleep.
He can leave it at the door, when he steps in.
But I can’t wash it out of my mind.

leaves-line-drawing-23

In my mind
I mix up the person he is and the person he has to be.
But I realise that I do not know the person he is,
I only know the person he has to be for me,
I only resent the person he has to be for others.

leaves-line-drawing-23

The person he is, looks at me from his corner of eyes
and this stranger looks at me
not across oceans, not across roads of fate,
but across the versions of us filling up the space between us,
the versions we can never throw away.

leaves-line-drawing-23

This stranger looks at me and gives me the smile
that he has to wear for me.
For me to realise the love I have for the the days
I share with this person who spends his days with me,
loses his ways with me and grows old with me.
I smile back becoming the person I have to be for him,
becoming the version I love the most.

“New Organ” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

tumblr_static_tumblr_static_ehn4mcdorvsow8c8sk88oo8s0_640

All the words that I have gulped down
are still inside me,
never digested.
They have found a space for themselves-
A new throbbing organ that I cannot name,
since I have never named my organs,
someone else always does it for me
(does it for all of us)
and tells me through fading words
of second-hand textbooks
how is it supposed to feel to be a human,
how I am just a complicated machinery
and why my heart can’t possible think or want.

“Poster” – Nayana Nair

Posted on

r4-K4Hu-

I thought I would only have one poster
when I decided to clearly define what I am.
I stuck it up only after careful consideration.
Consideration of the space it takes.
Consideration of the how much I am allowed to grow.
Condsideration for the things that will be hidden away and
lost under the layer of this paper,
which is necessary
maybe only for me.
And soon when my smile changed a bit,
I had to get new poster.
When I could no longer sing along to my favoutite song,
I had to get a new poster.
When my legs became more noticeable than my words,
I had to get a new poster.
When my dreams felt hollow, I had to get a new poster.
But the soon I ran short of space.
Soon the only way to continue seeing myself for what I am
was to cover up what I was once.
To make space for another me
to exist another day.
All this
so that I do not wake up one morning
not knowing who I am.

“Exceed” – Nayana Nair

483d002456713405c9617dee82ccb6bd

I try to hold back my tears
so as not to exceed the amount of space
I am allowed to take in this world.

Marvellous pages

Book reviews & much more. 😊Read & make connections with those marvellous pages

abbyinhallyuland

I celebrate beautiful Korean dramas.

Clear And Refreshing

Pop, indie and underground music in Japan

My Life Lived Full

If you aren't living on the edge, you're taking up too much space

joeyfullystated

Narrative of a Neurotic & Other Random Nonsense

Random Writings on the Bathroom Wall

This is all about my amazingly mundane south metro urbanite life cuz I like having fun as long as the Police aren't somehow involved.

TASHNEE .V.MAVEE

PERSONAL STYLE, FASHION BLOGGER AND LIFE EXPERIENCES

Susanne Haun

Kunst im Bereich Zeichnung und Malerei von Susanne Haun - Art special rawing and painting of Susanne Haun

Havoc and Consequence

(overcome your fears)

paeansunpluggedblog

songs unheard by the poet next door

lynz real cooking

lynz real life

A Reading Writer

I write because I read. I read because I write.

DoodleScribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

From the Perimeter . . .

Thoughts & Poetry for all people Copyright 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 all content.

Björn Rudbergs writings

Poetry and fiction by a physicist from the dark side

Dragon's Lair

Poetry and Fire

hbhatnagar

Not-so-random thoughts

Just moon148

notonehundredfortyeightmoons.wordpress.com

In My Melody

Translated Chinese Pop Music