Fey.

Sunday, January 5, 2014 at 2:56 am | Posted in Life, Poetry | Leave a comment
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I can see stardust in the words,
making them casualties of my imagination

The light has to be just right
A time at night,
tilt your head just so
and the words will alight

a fey ecstasy

S
Last night around 1 or 2, can’t remember, while reading a book of short stories. Learned about the word ‘fey’ for the first time from the book and borrowed it.

Literally my dream today.

Thursday, December 26, 2013 at 11:33 am | Posted in Life, Poetry | Leave a comment
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Fish were so hungry,
they leapt and flew in the air.
Clouds disintegrated into
particles of air or crystals.
I couldn’t tell,
but it was beautiful somehow.

I was going to live in a house
There were stairs
and gorgeous views.
I had to duck from the fish
and try to get away from distractions,
to get pictures of the clouds,
disintegrating crystals or particles
that they were.

I walked the streets,
following an unknown figure.
Maybe it was the love of my life
I can never tell,
but in the end it didn’t matter
because I was trying to capture those clouds.

Sona
10:32 am wrote this right after I woke up because I had to jot down my dream, it was so visually interesting and beautiful, and this is exactly what it was.

Dust Particles.

Friday, December 6, 2013 at 1:12 am | Posted in Life, Poetry | Leave a comment
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That sometimes I think there are days that
will fall away
and I’ll drift in their dust
and we’ll be particles
in the air waves
crashing against each other

Sona

12:08 am in my bed in California and I just realized that the last post was written at the same time a little more then 8 months ago in a different continent.

Fugitive.

Monday, September 3, 2012 at 3:21 pm | Posted in Life, Poetry | Leave a comment
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I had the strongest urge to run today
away
the muscles in my legs twitched and
I could feel my spine getting ready for motion
my mind’s eye visualized the escape routes,
vaguely,
saw the seat on a bus, train, but most likely an airplane
with me and a book
learning a language to make conversations
with other fugitives from their current lives
this wasn’t a new or strange urge though, it’s become routine even
soon I won’t be able to withstand it anymore
my body’s preparation for escape
soon
the urge won’t be contained with a deep breath and
a call for patience

Sona
September 3, 2012
Long after midnight

Nashey Mein.

Sunday, March 18, 2012 at 11:21 pm | Posted in Poetry | 2 Comments
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Nashey mei(n) rahnein de mujhe aaj
Hosh aaya toh shayad hosh mein na rahoo(n)
Aansuo(n) ko ankho(n) mei(n) rehne de aaj
Tapke toh shayad rok na sakoo(n)

Teri yaad mujhe aisey aati hai
Jaise ilm ho mujhe tera pehle se kabhi
Kaise samjhaoo(n) is duniya ko,
Ki waaqif hai meri ruh tere dil se pehle say kabhi

Shor abhi tak sun raha hai mujhe
Socha tha qabr mein sakoo(n) aayega
Kya maloom tha yeh dil bewafaii apne aap se kar jayega

Yeh jannat hai yah jahannum
Teri awaaz ki pukaar hai
Khuaish bas ek dafa tujhe chooney ki thi

Sona
(n) – that nasly n sound, so you don’t actually pronounce the n.
I wrote this a very long time, sorry for the English readers – it only works in Hindustani and I don’t want to translate it. I don’t know if it’s finished yet, but I can’t think of anything to add right now.

Darkness.

Sunday, April 17, 2011 at 8:39 pm | Posted in Life | Leave a comment
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The nights are getting very difficult now
the darkness leaves you nothing to look at
nothing but your thoughts
sometimes you think about the slicing of skin
and drops of blood on white sheets
and you cry
and you laugh
at yourself, you can be so dramatic sometimes
people have real problems
suck it up buttercup
but the nights are getting very difficult now
and the darkness isn’t just outside anymore
has it always been like this?
you don’t think so
it wasn’t so dark before
and thoughts of slicing and cutting
didn’t leave tingles in your fingers before
you can be so dramatic sometimes
grow the fuck up
and do something
get out
the nights are so difficult
the darkness so dark
thoughts running
to slices of life
not lived
tears spill out of one eye
at least it’s not blood
on white sheets
because people have real problems
suck it up

-Sona

Dust.

Sunday, February 13, 2011 at 9:45 pm | Posted in Life, Poetry | Leave a comment
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Aches flutter hollow
pixie dust settles on these lashes
they tear open
and it’s dust that follows

whispered supplications descend
into the ears of angels
they run into the ground
and those aches bellow

but there’s just silence in return
only silence
and defeat

-Sona

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