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

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

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