Seasons

Let me start by saying I fully understand that any poetry I write may never be regarded as eloquent, but if there is one thing I have learnt recently there is room for even bad poetry. (Thank you Dave)
Still in the past two years my soul has screamed out to share. To just be creative and not care about anything else. So that is my intention for the Blog and for everything else I do, like the Nike commercials say, "just do it".

The following are a set of Poems/rants I have written in the past 3 years. Pieced together they turn into a mini story all of them take place in a certain season. Alas, spring is missing. Enjoy.

July (Summer Kiss)
I will not forget the first time we kissed.
For my soul shouted, "She's the One."

I will concede the words I write are quite elementary
But even the simplest of words can last centuries.

You fell into me without hesitation,
while our lips effortlessly reach there destination.
The first kiss we held to allow our souls to connect,
each kiss after became increasingly passionate.

The One God in numerous names and shapes
contorted the world so that nothing would ruin our pace.

Eshwar (God) created a corner for us to hideaway in,
so that our lips could continue their conversation.

This magnificent union reached a feverish pitch
when I took control of your hips.

In that moment we were one.
In that moment there was Love.

Sept (Fruitless Fall)
She rests her head on my chest, and tells me this is it.
I still wonder if she heard my heart crumble.
She lifts her head to look me in the eye.
My one true love she starts to cry.

Rab(God) has played a horrible game.
She has to leave me because of my name.
Not the one used to call for me
But the one attached to my ancestry.

Religion it seems has gotten the best of me.
Created to help us become spiritual
Man however, has made it material.

I wipe the tears from her eyes
My love does not deserve to cry.
Still she would mourn one way or another
even if she chose me as her lover.

Our eyes lock once again
I can tell she does not want this to end.

In this moment I think of the hell she must be in.
In this moment I know that it is over.

Jan( Winter Weakness)
How unfortunate it is to wake with instant heartache
Before my eyes open to acknowledge the world
my heart reminds me of the girl.
Before my head process how my day begins
it tells me how it will end.
Alone.

As I try to rise to my feet
my heart pulls me back in defeat.
The first sustenance I taste is a salty tear running down my face.
It emerged while I think of her embrace.

The radio is singing a Hindi love ballad.
In an instance my room becomes my tomb.

I have conversations with my mother, arguments with my brother.
They inform me that I have done nothing wrong.
My heart however can not move on.
I place myself in complex situations at work
it does not stop the hurt.
Familiar faces wonder where I have gone,
Complain to me it has been so long.
Yet the face I long for is gone.
Perhaps she has moved on?

In this moment I am empty.
In this moment I am
Empty.

M Sharma