Floating Free........

What do I call it but fickle,
When the heart looks at my body
And imagines itself in love.
A photograph on a website
What if it sees…
That errant stub of hair on my breast,
The in-growth that darkens my legs,
The pus that threatens
to burst forth in anger from my face,
The foul smelling nicotine laced breath.
They cannot be seen
in that photograph
taken from afar.
Believe me. I know.
Will your heart love them all
When your fingers push away
the garb
Or will it wince
in regret or disappointment
Will your eyes turn away
in shame perhaps..
Will you then
go back to the illusion
or will you dare
to step forward
and kiss my darkened lips? 

I'm reading Kamala Das, thus the heavy influence that you see in the writing.. Also when you acquire yourself a stalker whom claims to find you 'hot' in one breath and claims to love you in another, what else do you say? :) Amusement and sadness tangled in irony.

Vru says..

Poetry is for those who cannot bear the brutality of reality. 
Give me pain and I'll show you a pulitzer prize winning ode to humanity and its festering sores

I love her sense of irony. I respond

The weak need their illusion of gravity to escape to. Does poetry ever emerge out of the unaffected?

I like this guy.. posting his blog just so I remind myself to visit it everytime I come here..

http://www.creativecriminal.blogspot.com/

Why do we put on this act?
Making a stage of the ground beneath,
actors of all we meet,
props of what we touch,
an audience of every eye that catches ours?
Is fear the only dialogue we deliver?
Can we for once believe that the arclights
could fade away,
leaving us in darkness?
What then?

  Hands holding mine, comforting my anger. 'We had decided to part ways' he said. 'I wasn't sure' ....A reason, an excuse... a plea? I wonder, as ever. Surety. What would I give to have just a few moments of it.

Have you ever wanted to do something completely out of character? Deviant and aberrant. Most times I just imagine, plan and hatch these elaborate plots in my head. But they stay there. Always. At least until Saturday night. 

Here is where I bring in my two very good friends and partners in crime(quite literally), Poo and M. I was told it was unfair on my part that I have written so much about the V's and G's in my life and left them out completely.  'All in good time my dears' I had assured them. 

The sounds were loud but ineffective, the smoke swirled in circles from lips, within the room. The crowd, just a mass moving in disconnected tandem. "So what stories will we tell about each other when we are put on national TV? We are after all going to be famous one day". Its understood amongst the three of us. We will be there. Someday. Three experiences for each person..Beach waltzes, drunken nights, naked sightings, empty wallets, foot rubs from strangers, men, doing favours for bosses ala pulling facial hair (Now you know why Poo and M were upset.. we have shared quite a bit!). 

The room swarmed, sweat squishing with spirits and smoke. After 2 years of being together, my number on their cell phones goes under the name 'lost cow', an endearment, a fact that is as attached to me as my name. Was however surprised to know that i'm still their lost cow despite moving on since our first days together. I demanded they change it right away! "I'm not a babe in the woods anymore"

The night was doing nothing for us, our moves to the music getting rehearsed with each puff and swig. The bouncer blocked our floor and the the men, our space. "If people just sneak out without paying, would they even know?" Poo quipped. 'Of course.. I'm sure there is some way of keeping tabs!" .. But the seed was already taking root. Its a thought that has gone through my head each and every time i go to a crowded place. Not because you want to cheat someone, but somewhere deep down, we are just curious, normal, human. The beer had started its ferment and it showed.

M gave me some money.. in case the plan goes awry, in case that big bouncer got a chance to show off that brawn. Stuffed it in my pocket, i think.  Did i mention we love movies? We do..... Anyways.. M left, Poo left.. I left. We made it out, shocked at ourselves, thrilled because we had pulled off something that seemed so silly and so deliciously deviant. Into the rick.. My beer and rum dunked brain remembered to check my back pocket. My fingers slip in, fit, find nothing. The corniest of adages made its way to my brain cells, "Man proposes... God disposes.. right?"

We laughed all the way home.. Another story to tell. With relish!

Poo sent me this later at 1.15 am, "I'll never forget tonite.. Thank you for being my friend....." Same here gals.. I would be very boring without you too. :)))

P.S: They have refused to change my name on their cell phones.. 'sigh' cant really blame them

"I'll lean on you and you lean on me and we'll be okay." - dave matthews band.. 

I tried, swung my weight with confidence only to discover .... fear rising as I hurtled... down.