silence

You come alive again as that forgotten memory
of silence.
i left because you wanted me to
And now you ask me if i miss you
i don't know how the days drag,
i don't even know if i miss you
but do you know the silence, the silence between two heart beats?
that silence is yours


P.S: The last post made me write this.

Ad Finem-Poetry

On the white throat of useless passion

That scorched my soul with its burning breath

I clutched my hands in murderous fashion,

And held them close in a grip of death;

For why should I fan, or feed with fuel,

A love that showed me but blank despair ?

So my hold was firm, and my grasp was cruel—

I meant to strangle it then and there!

I thought it was dead. But with no warning,

It rose from its grave last night, and came

And stood by my bed til the early morning

And over and over it spoke your name.

Its throat was red where my hands had held it;

It burned my brow with its scorching breath;

And I knew the moment my eyes beheld it,

"A love like this can know no death."

For just one kiss that your lips have given

In the lost and beautiful past to me,

I would gladly barter my hopes of Heaven

And all the bliss of Eternity.

For never a joy are the angels keeping,

To lay at my feet in Paradise,

Like that into your strong arms creeping,

And looking into your love-lit eyes.

I know, in the way that sins are reckoned,

This thought is a sin of the deepest dye ;

But I know too if an angel beckoned,

Standing close by the Throne on High,

And you, adown by the gates infernal,

Should open your loving arms and smile,

I would turn my back on things supernal,

To lay on your breast a little while.

To know for an hour you where mine completely——-

Mine in body and soul, my own——

I would bear unending tortures sweetly,

With not a murmur and not a moan.

A lighter sin or lesser error

Might change through hope or fear divine;

But there is no fear, and hell has no terror,

To change or alter a love like mine. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850 -1919)

pimping the blog

No updates doesn't mean I don't care about this blog. I have been pimping it. Have shared the URL with 2 of my colleagues, who have become friends. See, I rate them colleagues too. 9-6 buddies, colleagues whom I still don’t mind catching up on some social networking site (after spending like 9 hours with them in the office), and colleagues whom I SMS etc. Colleagues whom I call up after work, or on weekends are the really close ones. I am burning calories exercising my thumb to be in touch with them you see. I hate SMSing though. So, when someone reaches the right friendly-colleago-meter , and gets close, I start gently, “Do you read blogs? Do you blog?” Whether it is a yes or no, I give my URL and there, the pimping starts. Then, I’ll follow up with them patiently, until they are forced to read. Hoo haa haa (evil grin). I say, there is an exhibitionist in every blogger.

Talking about SMSing, I must take this post as a way to thank a certain ex. I am sure I never did thank him when we were supposedly involved, ego and all that. (I got a single digit hike that I feel like being so nice in my blog) Ex, thanks for the calls that you made to me, when all I did was give a missed call. If I regret anything, it is the fact that I did not ask for my commission from your service provider, for giving them business just by a missed call.

So, guys don’t just think of dumping that girl friend of yours who gives you missed calls and doesn’t really call. They turn out to be good wives you see. Ask S, my lawfully wedded husband, at how happy he is.

While pimping the blog, I came across this post of mine. I am glad I could feel in those days, and that I was proudly foolish.

After reading it, I made a sad attempt to write the following:

And we follow each other with our eyes, not saying a word.
And we sit across talking different things, yet making love with our eyes
And we sit and wonder if the universe will align for us at least once
And everything vanishes like shrieks and whispers all at once
And loneliness blinds us in between the wrong and the right
And I sleep with eyes wide open, with trepidation

to think,

to rationalise,

to let go of you.

"And when we meet
Which I'm sure we will
All that was there
Will be there still
I'll let it pass
And hold my tongue
And you will think
That I've moved on....
I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender" ~ Dido.