By: Megha Sood
A short sigh
How long can we hold the breath without inhaling?
How long can be an empty sigh?
How long is the gaze of a widow by the window sill
blackening her elbows
in the crisscrossed narrow streets
of bent time?
The sadness melts and drips
and carried in the veins of the city
of pain and abandonment
there is no pain
like the pain of an empty prayer
and eyes without the dreams
the only certainty
is the well-defined trajectory of tears
Hope has crossed your name
and jumps over
every time it sees your home
the silent pond is kept awake
by the hoarse croaking of the
the ripples are dissolving in thin air
the wind carries that breath of loneliness
and the shifty-eyed moon
stands witness to this atrocity
Rain falls on that lonely blade and
there stands nothing between her and night
a long whisper,
and a short sigh.
Time is a healer – a paradox
Our body is
and the wind has bored holes into it
we are chipped and corroded
standing here as the witnesses to the pain
buried here in time for eons
it slowly and surely
scrapes away bits and pieces from us
and lose it to the salivating time
filling its belly forever
it never stops the taking
we are here to be scraped
until it reaches the bottom
there is no more bit
or piece of scrap
left to be devoured
and we are empty again
to be filled by the wounds
time has to offer.
Time is a healer-a paradox.
the jagged line which runs from my mouth
to the chest
the throbbing line of symmetry
the perpetual truth
the crest and the trough of which holds
the brevity of my truth
or the absence of it
presence of it marks the survival
the truth deeply tucked in its crevices
and it’s all bared out in the open
like the pages of the tattered book
frayed at the ends
bursting out at the seams
for the world to see
a little change in the symmetry of the rhythm
catching the fleeting glance
from the corner of my eye
the cartography of my emotions
till it turns into a straight line
life lying flat on its face
like an open eye of a dead tilapia
losing the jagged peaks to merciless time
voiding the existence of
the truth, I solemnly hold.
Megha lives in Jersey City, New Jersey. She is a contributing author at GoDogGO Cafe, Candles Online, Free Verse Revolution, Whisper and the Roar, Poets Corner and contributing editor at Ariel Chart.
Her works have been featured in 521 Magazine #Sideshow, Oddball, Pangolin review, Fourth and Sycamore,KOAN ( Paragon press),Modern Literature, Visual Verse, Vita Brevis, Modern poetry, Spill words Press, Indian periodicals, Literary heist, Little Rose Magazine, The Quiet Corner, Writer’s Cafe Magazine, and coming up in Dime Show review,Piker Press, The Stray branch and many more.
Her poetry has recently been published in the anthology “We will not be silenced” by Indie Blu(e) Publishing and upcoming in three other anthologies by US, Australian, and Canadian Press.
She recently won the 1st prize in NAMI NJ Dara Axelrod Mental Health Poetry contest. She blogs at https://meghasworldsite.wordpress.com/.
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