Anjali Sharma: Figures of Thought: Collegiate Voices across Spaces

My Red Mate

This thing lying near my head, keeps the secrets which I dread.
Presented by someone whose self is not present.
It's ears have heard the mourning soul 
It's eyes evidenced the questions asked by whole.
The beauty of longing for the moment to come,
Which never happened and will never come.
That fine day of autumn when wind blows,
Leaves shed, and tiny flowers roam around the street rows.
A little one stuck into my long hairs,
You smile at me with your eyes expressing the love
For me owns your Palpitating heart
Longing for the revival of that part.
Why not again you ask to stay by your side
Why not again you ask for a ride.
Amnesia I face, you called but again I remind
Those patches of your memories in my mind.
Your voice, your words, your glance,
Your every bit or I say instance.
My red mate reminds me whenever I try to forget
Miserable heart longing to get.
Days to pass and night to vanish 
This mate knows how much I perished.
***


Beauty

My dreams were of flying, thinking to surpass,
But what if all turns gloomy,
Just because I'm wheatish rather than creamy.
What all illusions of kindly, compassionate heart 
Love for flora, even the deadly beast,
Fade way in blink by the oleander dart.
Life not likely be doing your deed instruct almighty,
But also about facing beings feeling pity.
Why all eyes struck unto lighter skin,
Why all ears wish to hear comment about robes it wears,
Why all lips murmur of coated sand,
No one applauds the soul that is life’s mainland.
***

Author's Bio: Anjali Sharma is a student of MA(English) of GGDSD college, Chandigarh. Drawn to words and books, she has been writing from the early days of her adulthood.

2 comments :

  1. Nice rhyme in first poem & deep topic of second. Nice poems....your vocab is great! There is density amidst your words.

    ReplyDelete

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