Friday, July 26, 2013

Three Quarters (3 ¼ s)


¼ past 11
She stared at the wall;

He grimaced at the blank paper;
Status updated.
Writer’s block.



¼ to 12
A storm brewed outside the door.
Calmness subsided indoor;
Together, they spun inside out.
Caught in a different eye of the storm.



¼ past 12
Monsoon reigned.
Just like the needles, long & short
They fell apart; Heaving.
Clasping hands they grinned at the ceiling.


Thursday, July 04, 2013

Cyclopean - A True Memory Catcher


Perhaps, the phrase picture perfect 
belonged to those days of yore.
When you could see people
caught unaware, 
giving away expressions, candid.
Sometimes posing, saying cheese;
Inching closer to squeeze into the frame;
Trying their best not to blink
and waiting to be blinded
By that lightning streak
escaping from the cyclopean wonder.  
And, if they ever blinked, 
What a shame,
It was to see oneself framed 
Wearing a somnolent face or to look 
like a drunk; 
More so, if it was the day 
they tied the knot. 
With no option, in fact,
to preview, erase
And go for another shot;
Regretfully, in that order. 
They could only imagine 
what would be the outcome
of a portrait or landscape
in a frame. 
Then,
memories were made 
keeping the age-old recipe in mind. 
Moments were virgins, 
caught with their innocence intact.
What was missed remained missed.
Like a sunup or sunset
That never repeated its act.
And that which was caught,
My friend, was a sure shot.
The boarding pass 
for your time travel;
Your window seat
with that picture doubling as a view.
Giving you a sneak peek 
into an epoch
Where life really did pause.
And froze or posed the way it was.