Poetry: Megha Sood

* Author of the Month *
Megha Sood
1.  Reverberation

Winter evenings cast long slender shadows
on my sepia tinge wall.
Inside the paintings are a little skewed
waiting for its due:
robbed by the winter sun of their shadows.

a room is as silent as the inside of a prayer halls
with the incessant ticking of the wall clock
a few moments of serenity are broken
by the clicking of the dryer
in a quiet corner of the room

the life still persists in my lonely room
the rustling of the pages on my table sometimes
breaks the monotony of the silence
sitting quietly,
legs crossed
on the old Mahogany chair
soaking the generous sun
in the quiet corner of my room
everything is quiet and pristine
Silence reigns,
Night slowly gulps my quaint town
robbing the sparrows of their shadows.

I can hear yesterday's snow
melting and slowly trickling
by the kitchen garden sluice
the faint noises add to the symphony
my room sings, surreptitiously.

2. Imposture

The stale cracking lies you hold
when you stand here naked
in front all your distortions

let the truth be told
you were not a martyr
nor a survivor;
you ran, ran from the truth
and came out of the war
through the back door

Flashed your scratches
as the victory scars
gained a position
where it was never truly yours

I talk about deception
about treachery;
about lies,
but the truth remains in the folds

You stood behind
the mirror of deception
with pretense lining the smirk on your face
you cannot play the victim
any more I say

Roles have reversed
and tables have turned
you cannot hide behind your insecurities
No more

You cannot hide behind a mask
the skin peels and ruptures
you will finally shed your snakeskin
revealing your true face
I'm really sure.

3. Joyful rapture

With joyful rapture
I pressed my ears close to the
heaving breast of the mother earth
as I listen closely to the laughter hidden in the trees.

With the crimson tinge of the setting sun
interspersed in the oriental lilies
staying alive in the
luscious lips of my beloved

the faint whispers of the frothy moonlight
gently caressing the
serrated ends of the darkness
revealing the secrets
as the night roil in

This murky dawn
seeping through the
half-broken window
of my bedroom
moves surreptitiously
as it takes slowly takes the night in.

No comments :

Post a Comment

We welcome your comments related to the article and the topic being discussed. We expect the comments to be courteous, and respectful of the author and other commenters. Setu reserves the right to moderate, remove or reject comments that contain foul language, insult, hatred, personal information or indicate bad intention. The views expressed in comments reflect those of the commenter, not the official views of the Setu editorial board. प्रकाशित रचना से सम्बंधित शालीन सम्वाद का स्वागत है।