A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)


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Bullseye!

Though daggers
and stilettoes
be all that you
possess in your
armory of words-

I shall stand
and receive them
with open arms.

There is a
distinct possibility-
One that I’m
banking on-

That one will
strike right there-

At the centre
of my heart!

Usha, 1 July, ’07

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The Rain Is Me

The rain is
me, now.

Grey, grey clouds
that hold my heart
and soul, captive;
heavy with leaden
sorrow.

Huge pearly
drops falling;
from my eyes??

My thoughts
my dreams, hopes
aspirations and expectations,
peopled in my mind-

Inundated
by the pain
that never seems to stop.

That will never let
me be.

The downpour
of agony
sweeps all away.

A sun rises anew,
in the cycle of life again;
flood waters recede-
as they must.

To garner myself
my thoughts and
my precious self…

How tough it is-
to learn to live again.

Usha, 1 July, ’07


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Existence

In overcast skies
In grey damp mist
In sheets of rain
that never seem to stop,

Is lost my heart.

In arid deserts of the mind
In dry river beds of my eyes
In unforgiving glare
of the noonday sun,

Lies, bare, my soul.

In the fruit of suspicion
From the germ of mistrust
In spreading creepers
of slow pain,

I exist.

Usha, 1 July, ’07


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Bereft

Each time you come,
My heart fills up-

Each time, then again,
You take a chunk away,
As you leave.

The yawning gap-
A hollow of yearning;

A receptacle waiting-
For you to fill
Within me.

And-
Each time, I tell myself
It’s going to be
Different, this time;

(Knowing full well,
It can never be;)

How I’ll keep that
Treasure-trove of love within;
How I’ll stack
My worries and anxieties: Separate.
How I’ll be stoic, and smile,
Warmly, reassuringly-

Hug you, squeeze your hand,
And thump you on the back!

And, as you walk away-
Slowly, but surely;
Each step, pulling away-
I do, all of these things:
Smile, and hug,
And pump your hand!

Then…
My worries and anxieties stack-
Only, they become that receptacle,
Bereft
Of a treasure-
Waiting to be filled again-
Collecting the lone tear drop
That suddenly drips
Off the edge of my eye.

You turn,
And I flash my
Dazzling smile-

Au revoir, dear one.

I can wait-
As I always have
Till we meet again.

Dear God,
(Just this)
I pray,

Soon!


Usha, 24 March, 2008


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The Solace of a Song

A love song
On the radio-
Startles, and I am
Transported,
Yet again!

Mindless
Endless
Limitless

Timeless…

In this
Shrieking
Screaming
Pandemonium

Yet again,
Transported…

To that Peaceful Glade;
The freshness of a filling Silence;
To the Aura of a
Secure, Warm, Sheltering
Cloak-

Wondrous…
How a love song
Helps you find that
Solace of Insanity
In the Oasis of Silence

Amidst the Desert of Existence,
Surrounded by the
Babel of Sanity.

All because,
Of a Song?

Usha, 21 March, ’08