When you miss me
look for me in the meadow
where we named
our white daisies blue,
where you plucked trebles from birdsong
and composed music for the wind,
where we watched
wishing stones in the stream
sparkle in the moonlight.
I will be there
till you no longer come looking for me.
As if I needed a reason
to leave the porchlight on
for you to come looking for me
beneath the Bougainville planter
next to the bottom porch step
where I buried my heart
along with the house keys
and place me in the locket
resting above your heart
which is the only place I know
as somewhere I belong.
Yellow Trailing Daisies appear when Summer ends, bringing along with itna wistful feeling.
This one is for Summer.
Just one hour left
to release my breath
my subdued wild heartbeats
that starved all summer
for the lemon peels in your skin
and the water mint in your sighs.
Just one hour left
one that isn’t easy as they think
with the time not hungry as I am
for the midnight jasmines in your hair.
I was too empty for words.
The truth is,
the sword I kept in my tongue
to deflect
only the sentences that betray me,
beheaded,
even my carefully scripted texts
at the turnstiles of my throat.
So I am taking this rain
you have left for me
to redeem
at least my empty eyes.
Keep it a secret
that your eyes are my favourite books
and the crinkles at the edges
are left by my fingertips
that cannot stop turning their pages
over and over again
to read the endless new stories
they dream for us everyday.
Everytime I think of you
the fingerprints you left on my skin
rise up into the air
forming glowing inkblots
of a Rorschach Test
that I always describe
as shapes of the wounds I caused
when I was being mean.
I wish instead
for once they resemble
the constellation
you named after me
when you hid it in my soul.
Is it too much to hope
that the ivy you gave me
would someday
grow into a shrine?
Is it foolish to believe
that the nectarine pit in your heart
would someday
grow into an orchard?
Perhaps I should
keep waiting for that someday
when you would turn around
and nod at me in the affirmative.
Twenty Words Tuesday by Bulbul
Week 35
Banner
The shadows beneath her eyes hold banners that say, it is here, she translates seconds, giving shape to his absence.
Leena
When I miss him
I wear his gold toned Seiko Watch
that he left for me.
It’s cold metal
grafts his skincells
into my wrist
and it’s heartbeats
sing Daddy’s little girl
in morse code
along with my heart
and my tears
dry on their own.
Copper Pod is my most favourite summer flower.
The copper stems and buds that blooms to yellow five petal flowers with wavy egde made me ignore ever other summer flower.
They told me
that they envy me
because you write
poems for me.
Just to get them off my back
will you write a haiku
on weather
or the low pressure
over the north of
Bay of Bengal?
Musings of a Wandering Dryad 