Emotions


War and Peace by Pablo Picasso

Grim darkness cloaking her life

Compressing the space inside

Her breath stifled in the heavy air

She closes her eyes in despair

 

Quietly in her mind, she prays at the altar

Prays for a tear… a tiny drop of water

That will ease the oppressing weight

Settled in her breast like a deadweight

 

As she prays, her eyes settle upon

The cherubic face that looks on

Dark eyes looking at her gravely

Saying, His world depends on her sanity

 

She drinks back the tiny salty drops

Clinging to the edge, about to fall

And prays for time when the tears can fall

And then off her shoulders the weight will fall

 

~Anamika

© 2008 Anamika

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Prayer for a tear by Anamika is licensed under a
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Image source: www.allposters.com

A Woman Walks on the Beach

Still hurting inside, shivering violently in the sun

She reaches out to touch someone… anyone

To her horror she merely gropes an empty space

All her ‘friends’ had busily moved on, along the way

 

While she had withdrawn into her shell to fight her battles

The world outside moved on, as she quietly tested her mettle

Finally triumphant as she walks out of the deep abyss

The vast empty space around her makes her heart twist

 

She sighs, and starts putting one step ahead of another

Alone but still moving, she hopes to acquire fellow travellers

By the mere action of putting one step ahead of another

As she walks, deep in her chest a butterfly’s wings flutter

 

She looks out into the empty space and the settling dust

Unsure of her future, she quietly walks into the fading dusk

~Anamika

© 2008 Anamika

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She walks onby Anamika is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Image source: www.allposters.com

He toddles along in front of her eyes
Hopping and jumping, as she watches with a smile
Suddenly, his foot catches without any warning
He spreads out his hand, as he is falling

As she watches him tottering and stumbling
Her heart skips a beat… and then starts pounding
She reaches out a hand… but stops herself mid way
As he straightens up and moves along on the pathway

She let out a deep breath, as quietly as she could,
Ah! the pain and the understanding that is motherhood
Knowing she cant always protect her little son
Only allow him to learn…learn with every fall and stumble

~Anamika

© 2008 Anamika

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Stumbling by Anamika is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License

Something heavy settles in her chest again

A weight that doesn’t ever go away…

Tightness around her beautiful lips and heart

Tears in her throat that just don’t fall

 

The pain of the past, growing in front of her eyes

Everyday the half empty glass that is her life

It will never be over or a long forgotten past

No matter how much she fools herself… Alas!

 

Patches that she stitches to cover the tears

In the fabric of her life… hiding her despair

The fabric is torn and so it will remain…

The tatters telling a story of loss and pain

~Anamika

© 2008 Anamika

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Tatters by Anamika is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License

treasure-box.gifTearing across the playground, chasing a butterfly
his eyes land on something glinting in the sunlight
He picks it up , holding it this way then that
A wobbly shaped stone, coloured blue and black

Oh! he is going to be rich, its a treasure …
to add to his treasure chest, its so precious!
he runs home, and quietly retrieves a box
hidden in his little drawer, under his socks

The box holds his precious posessions
a medley of different shapes and hues
all sticks and stones treasured for so long
trophies of his forays into the playground

His heart blooms, as he surveys his treasures
adding the latest stone to the pile with pleasure
how wonderfull, he is as rich as a king
or perhaps richer than all the kings!

Watching from the doorway she smiles
oh! her sweet and innocent child
Her little prince, surveying his kingdom
his little treasure of sticks and stones

~Anamika

© 2008 Anamika

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Sticks and stones by Anamika is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License

dancing_girl_silhouette.jpgIts the start of the day.  A cold morning, when she would have loved to stay under the covers.  Instead, she gets up and goes through the motions of dressing for work.  But when she opens her wardrobe to pick out a dress, her hands stray.  To the colours that are now stacked in a corner of her wardrobe.  Something in her heart says.. “Lets pick a nice colour.”

So she ignores her regular sober dull attires, hanging listlessly, in her wardrobe.  Instead, she picks up something in green.  Clothes that she hasn’t worn in almost two years.

As she walks into work that day, she sees the wonder in everyone’s eyes.  The women are admiring her beauty.  The men too, of course.  Her friends comment on how well she looks.  Even the mirror reminds her.  “Had you forgotten how beautiful you are?  Look, what a little colour does to you!”

After almost two years, she is wearing such clothes.  And it shows.  She looks beautiful.  And she feels beautiful! Walking tall… with her head held high.

For the past two years, her favorite colourful clothes suffocated her.  But Not Today.  Perhaps, the dark days are over.  This is the first sign, that her shattered heart is healing. 

She is beautiful.  And finally she has healed enough, to FEEL beautiful.

वक्त का एक कतरा
दर्द को अपने मे समाये हुए
समय की हथेली पे ठहेरा 
बस गिरने को है हाथों से

अगले पल की चौखट पे खड़ी
मैं सोचती रह गई 
की फिसलने दूँ हाथों से
या संजो लू पलको में

वक्त का वो कतरा…

~Anamika

© 2008 Anamika

Creative Commons License

वक्त का एक कतरा by Anamika is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

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