Thursday, November 10, 2011


(Artwork by Bella Dos Santos from

I was seated alone
My thoughts asunder
The meadow, quiet
The waters, still
when that incessant dragonfly
of the green-gold wings,
bearing secret messages
and untold things
buzzed as if possessed.
It buzzed till I gave in,
till I let it sit,
till I let it sing.
It sang of the paths
that had led him here,
of loves and lives
and many a fear.
So I sat and I heard,
about gnomes and fairies,
till my head throbbed
with a hundred stories.
He sang some more
of my reluctant past,
about my childhood,
that had flown too fast,
Of forgotten kisses,
loves I still missed,
roads I had trodden,
that no longer exist,
More songs of passion,
lust and pain;
of emotions I'd grown to disdain,
Tunes of tears and laughter,
and tales of before and after.
He took lead, I flowed
wondrous streams we rowed
My limbs hung limp,
my heart a-skip
Consciousness drowning
phantom images
flying fast and thick.
Then the buzz was gone,
the shadows, long
the mist was swirling
in copious rings.
I awoke alone,
a curious sheen on my skin
that was perhaps
from a green-gold wing.

(Co-written with Anish Nelson - @nelsonnium)


Samir said...

Perhaps well said is not quite the appropriate response to poetry, but as much as I love what is said here, I did enjoy how it was. So well said.

Urmi Chanda Vaz said...

If it elicited a comment from you, Samir, it must be good. Thank you! :)