a-figment

[a-figment]

Letter will come

Letter will come from mother

An indefatigable defender

Though one never confided

Letter will come from father

An ear to lend, a vessel to fill

Though one has forgotten the language

Letter will come from old lover

An awful apology

Though one could hardly recall

Letter will come from sister

For a stolen dress

Though one has outgrown,

Now the dress is torn

A letter will come from brother

For the money kept for running away

Though one could barely move

Letter will come from a hopeless poet

About a letter that never came

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#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #women poets #artwork #poema #poetry

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#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writer #writing #women poets #poema #artwork #poetry

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As premonition comes to pass

I find my fate back in my grasp

In my castle made of sticks

Where I rule with brittle fist.

Humbly now, I beg for rain;

For a river filled with spit again.

I'm so far gone, my arm's all wick.

It's been so long since I've seen brick.

My sword and crown just slow me down.

The throne is but a burial mound.

Yet upon it I still sit,

A phantom of some young and greedy kid,

Tangled in my arrogance

Impaled on the castle walls

[a-figment]

~ poemish

May be I should pull the moon closer tonight

To gaze at the darkness

To sway in the drunken wind

To soothe my oozing wound

To say or not to say

A secret world unravels in the night

An ephemeral truth vanishes with the light

( guess I stopped living for I started writing this morning)

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #women poets #artwork #poema #poetry

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~Poemish

This room had picture frames

On its wall

Of flowers

Of musicians

Of writers

Of philosophers

Of people who mattered

Some near the dark corner

Some faded with excess light

One so foggy for often caressed out of despair

One almost broken

Quivering under the rotating fan

This one in the middle, tilted

Always touched

Quick reconciliations

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #women poets #artwork #poema #poetry

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~Cycle

A bit of living

A plot for deterioration

Ends with a poetry

Enchantments and gaieties at one's peril

A wounded wolf howling

A requiem for the dead poet

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #women poets #artwork #poema #poetry

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~This one gibberish

One waited too long

One has forgotten much

One groped blindly

For what one was

For what one liked

A forgotten verse

A Fisherman’s song

A hole in the boat

A traveler’s tale

A lost ticket

So stand in the line

wait for a minute or two

A bus would come

Coffee, cigarettes

Pills and pipes

Take all you need

To memory lane

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #women poets #writer #poema #poetry #artwork

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It's not fear but sometimes when you sit there alone and eating your morning cereal or whatever and you wonder if there is somebody who knows the end of this terrific tragedy.

Somebody smirking at you and saying "oh look at that poor soul. Sitting and eating peacefully.If only she knew what happens next". It intimidates me!

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #artwork #women poets #womenwritingfiction #women writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write

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~Random Musing- Opinion

Childhood Trauma and Myth of happy parenting

An unappreciative parent- always pointing out the negatives – always compares – invalidates your achievements or rather doesn’t see it -makes you feel like you are not enough OR says someone else does it better than you.

A traumatized childhood- something within the child develops a coping mechanism which defends the judgments -an angry child-an absent minded- a lost child- and what not

I know, one doesn’t become an expert by just reading a few Gabor Mate books, but it deeply saddens me to see how childhood trauma manifests in adulthood- it may last well into adulthood-what if the learned coping mechanism becomes a habit though there are no valid external triggers- an avalanche is where one was swept away- one always seems to be defensive as if the world is waging war against oneself

I grew up in a house where both grandparents and parents fought almost daily. My sisters and I used to go out while they finish fighting. Once when I got back from school, I saw a police jeep outside my house gate – If only a police officer could resolve a family feud

After my grandfather passed away, there happened to be less fights. Aa a child one wondered is it because of him? But “I feel”( as I’m not an expert), it is very important for the child to understand why certain things happen – a closure may be- or at least an acknowledgement of the caused trauma

My father who dealt with great deal of childhood trauma found his refuge in alcohol. But he made sure that we get an explanation. We often sit at the corner talking about the traumatic experiences one had in the past and how it makes or breaks oneself.

Father said, “ I remember a day- this is when I just began my teaching career- I packed my bag and was about to leave for school but my mother yelled from behind,” I am going to take the poison today , you may not see me alive in the evening”. It was too late for my school and made myself believe that she did not mean it. Later in the school- afternoon break- felt quite unsettled and left for home- searched the entire house for a bottle of poison and I put it in my bag and got back to my school”

Father thought maybe a death can put an end to family feud and one’s mind may settle at last.

“oh look at divorced parents- children so matured”, father often said. But it is trauma- one skipped many stages of developments to be in that state and found to be struggling still.

“There are no perfect parents but happy parents”, I read somewhere. But not everyone can afford to be a happy parent- not in this world- not in this society. I remember tearing up watching the movie “Lost daughter”

We all had trauma, some of us learned to live with it, without hurting anyone- some of us are still struggling but be kind- be it the child or a parent, be kind – know the consequences – provide explanations- a closure

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #women poets #women writers #trauma

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~Phlegm

From watery to viscous

From yellow to green

From bland to salty

Phlegm fills the throat

“A good deal out of sorts”, said one about the illness

Occasional creaks of doors-Uninvited meals and pills

are to be swallowed with the thick phlegm

As the flesh melts into the bones,

One must bid farewell to the vigor of young

To have sympathy, compassion and always to be accompanied

These pointless illusions – In illness this make-believe ceases.

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #artwork #poema #poetry #women poets

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No.28

No.28, Noman’s room

One came knocking once or twice

One rang the telephone and other device

One poked the window, with poker dice

“So long Marianne”, are you singing? that’s nice

Cigarettes and pipes, smoke in the air

Poetry for gypsy boy or forgotten prayer

Strike out the words, one don’t really care

One too many Cohen(s) in that grave

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #artwork #poema #poetry #women poets #leonard cohen #so long marianne

[a-figment]

The owl in the late hour

Owl in the late hour

Hooting away the night

While grandma weaving

With the stuttering rhythm of hoots

The owl in the late hour

Hooting away the night

While Mable could only listen to

The stuttering rhythm of hoots

As Daniel ripped her clothes off

The owl in the late hour

Hooting away the night

While drunken father dragging his feet

With the stuttering rhythm of hoots

Owl in the late hour

Hooting away the night

While Kathy typing her novela - "Mrs. Mable"

With the stuttering rhythm of hoots

Owl in the late hour

Hooting away the night

While little Tommy dancing

With the man on his head

"Hhoot- - hhoot- hhhooot"

The owl in the late hour

Hooting away the night

While the ghosts in the woods

Whispering the unmentionables

of the church

Of the Bishops

Of the godmen

Owl in the later hour

Hooting away the night

While mother kept waiting

For the father who has forgotten the way home

The owl in the late hour

Hooting away the night

The stuttering rhythm of hoots

Is one waited for

After all

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #artwork #poema #poetry #women poets

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Amusing how one has so much to think about

Multitudinous waves of thoughts

Sometimes merging

Sometimes crashing one another

Changing directions

Different oceans

Yet the body drifts to the same shore

To the same ghost

One always returns

To the ocean

One must return

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #artwork #poema #poetry #women poets

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~Mundane

Amidst the multitudinous unstimulating days,

I wonder, what woke me up this morning?

Despite the heavy blanket over my frail bones,

Feet stood steady on the ground, then began dragging

Perhaps a broken poetry in head? Unread books in the shelves?

Dishes in the clogged sink? Trail of unfinished businesses?

A dull end to a neighborhood feud?

Perhaps it is not what one said but unsaid

From the deepest chamber of unsayable

And yet heard in that very hour of morning

That woke me up

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #artwork #poema #poetry #women poets #virginia wolf

[a-figment]

Not every face you see is a print

But an amalgam of faces

The vicarious pleasure you derive from what you read

Is quite often unreal

Not every poem is about lovers

Not what I said but what I thought I said

A conversation I wonder why it runs in third-person

Where you occasionally have to step in and say, "hey, Oh I see. Very well then"

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #artwork #poema #poetry #women poets #mind #confused

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~cohenish ( are you reading in his voice)

Under the Christmas tree

An empty box,

And a baggage you no longer carry

There is a seat for you at the table

and a wine glass

A plate and your favorite part of cake

Slides mysteriously towards your side

Smile on mother's face

Say goodbye to the ones who don't know you're leaving

Say goodbye to the ones who won't be waiting

#my writing #writeaway #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writer #poema #poetry #women poets