The other side

Far faraway flowers flourish

Hither hallucinating hurricanes howls.

There tailored treats are tasted

Here bulging bargained bowels

Take me to the kingdom past cotton clouds

that curiously curtains  calming serenity

Let me leech on the love ludicrously

Let me live freely.

©srijaprasita

Dawn

Dials that turn consistently 

and wheels that do not stop 

take me to the secluded space 

beyond the reach of my comfort.

Where my discomforts are hidden 

and dreams are secured,

but within the bars of memories

and under lock and key of discord.

The thoughts like bouncing balls

bounces through the four walls

and the shadows wraps me within

chained with the whispers mundane.

Thoughts of you then out of blue

Lights the hope, though unknown

And then my shadows and me

on our own, we smile as one.

With the tangerine horizon,

poof goes the surreal validation

The smile I had the night afore

then becomes my figment of imagination

like the dreams lost in the mist of morn

for the ones whose eyes are always open.

©srijaprasita

Union

 When the sun sinks it's amber in the horizon

and the moon melts in the sky

with it's silvery hue,

I would follow the twinkling stars

winking banters back and forth.

The wood sprite would lead the way

across the stream towards the lake

and under the moonlit canopy

I would search for your reflection

in the serene water surface.

I would make sure no ripples are formed

for I know you thrive in peace

while chaos is my maiden name.

For one day I know we shall unite

at twilight

like day and night.

For one day by this clearing

I would breathe my last air

My words would then dissipate

my sighs merged with thin air

and like the approaching dawn

we would finally be one

as we were always meant to be.

We would be forever known as eclipse

where dark and light co-exists.

©srijaprasita

The Paper Boat

The dainty fingers that's holding me

Knows nothing beyond the joy I bring.

As the thunder rolls up above the sky

The little heart he has leaps with joy.

And I know I shall embark on a journey

A whole lot of adventure waits for me

For I shall travel along windswept ripples

along with the memories and goofy scribbles.

I know I am made to float and sink

I know like a dream I am meant for an end.

But the smile I bring to the tiny eyes

And the cahoots and laughter that pass me by

Makes me wonder, what if I survived

the pouring rain and the angry tide.

Then I shall travel along the windswept ripples

along with the memories and goofy scribbles.

As I am laid on the murky stream

I can hear my surfaces scream.

The wilting began as soon as I am laid

And I saw the gleam in his eyes fade.

I moved forward with a fight

And I was greeted with claps of delight.

And now I am traveling along windswept ripples

along with the memories and goofy scribbles.

Soon enough, soon enough my senses reeled

Not that far away from the field

And I can feel the struggles inside

But then I see, of me he was tired

He has left with his fellow mates

Hence I am safe to rest to my fate

For I have travelled along windswept ripples

along with his memories and goofy scribbles.

© srijaprasita

Shishir

He

is the curious amalgam of 

spoken words and silences,

congregation of woes and laughter,

the depth not yet conquered

not measured, yet feared.

He

is the solitary lamp on hilltop,

brightening the vast stretch of land in dark

yet his eyes

just stares past his peripherals

seeking the hidden treasures beyond.

He

is the wordsmith of his own kind

churns out gold even without trying

yet he sees not the pull

and marks his void through and through.

He 

is the winter of different sort

frozen exterior with a warm heart.

The ice he projects, is jitter not shame

He is a definite anomaly

of his given name.

© srijaprasita

The meaning of the name Shishir is winter in Nepali. This is about a guy I know, someone whom I consider family.

Beyond me?

 With the swish of my will

I make the zephyr bow.

The rain falls on my command

And cloaks the dreary cold.

I could make you cry on whim

I could make or break your esteem.

Hence do not seek me out my love

I am the storm after the calm.

I know nothing beyond me

I am the king of my own realm.

©srijaprasita

The Siren Song

She was a siren

with broken teeth and detached fin

who had been nursing her hounds

but never quite healing.

She did roam, albeit within boundaries

drifting along the murky clouds

and the hailstorms

singing forgotten songs of centuries.

The diamond of first water,

she was named

yet the shine she had, her smile

enclosed and tamed

to reflect off the walls and halls

that she unwillingly chose

for willingly exchanging her name.

Yet one particular downpour,

in the jet-black night,

broke through the walls

that held her inside.

As the dams broke down

and hell broke loose,

she climbed up her marital bed

for her captor to irrevocably take

her remaining sense of sanity.

When he was high in throes of pleasure

she stabbed him midway.

She bathed in his blood

until the last trace of breath left.

Eyes wide she was visibly shaken,

Yet with the echoes of the siren song

her laughter sounded hysterical

celebrating the love that was sowed 

and revenge that was taken.

© srijaprasita

Haunted

She was a fiery sprite

who with her dainty steps

left behind the trail of blooms

across the hills and moors of hope.

She was a ballerina

who danced with the wind

and spun love and dreams

scattered it over the slope

for others to pick them up

and wear them as their crown.

On one stormy night

wizard of the dark realm,

smitten with her smile

caged her in his unrelenting grasp

squeezing every single drop

of magic she held.

Drained and dried, with a final goodbye

she left unchaperoned

leaving behind the haunting shadows

over the vast stretch of snowy canvas.

And every once in a while

they hear the bell ring

with her cries

echoing in tandem

with the wails of storm that passes by

leaving behind the scattering remains

of broken twigs.

© srijaprasita

Painted Maladies

To the one with deep pockets and mighty swords

and dazzling crowns of power and say
the wrung ballad of the zephyr
was drastically tuned to match the shreds of resilience
and thus storm was brewed to keep them safe
while I was blown to their lair of unknown.
Snuggled together in the fickle grasp of my resolve
all the while
succumbing to their enraptured beastly presence.
The tapestry of their exquisite realm was
woven with the replicas of assembled dreams
and trodden self-esteem,
covered with trampled over the sheath of apprehension.
Underneath the screeching heartbeat
bolted inside my skin, I curled over the scribbles
of shushed stories
titled excruciating pain of painted maladies.
The sounds of my struggles were caged in comfort
and comforted in the cage, identities more often duplicated.
Now that I lie at the bottom of the bottomless pit;
at the end of the endless woe
inside my candy-like dainty dome
disoriented on my own
and scattered as fragments in this mortal world,
I am traveling via uncharted vessel
towards salvation and through the point of no return.
Haunting shadows above all is my escape.
and now I am waiting for the time of their catastrophic take.
© srijaprasita

The One

The walls she built

every brick carefully laid
overtime as she grew
With dark clouds
hovering overhead
and freezing mist of nightmares
following her about.
Yet she yields magic
and let wanderers penetrate the shield
leading them to the holdings
of love and compassion.
She is the fire that blazes eternal
yet the drop of joy pours nonetheless.
She is an enigma, the puzzle of the world
where fire and ice co-exist.
For the love she bestows
overwhelmingly endearing.
For the qualms she has
overtly amazing.
For the words, she spouts,
the truth that pinches,
overbearing,
Yet,
the cocoon of her embrace,
the drizzle of her smile
and the downpour of her laughter
shines like the first rays of the sun
tearing away the cloak of the dark.
She is the blend of the day and night
ethereal like the dusk and the dawn
that holds the mysteries of the world
with unembraced and unnoticed identity
unique, the only one.
The prize you ought to embrace, not own.
© srijaprasita

Stardust

The calming wave of compassion

by the shore of reminiscent relics

makes me dwell on the reverie

just by the unlocked door.

I hesitate often, move forward and halt

to take two steps back for one

by the patio outside

with serenade of broken thoughts.

The words get submerged

beneath the frozen depth of my heart

and my calls muted to the world.

you are just beyond the door,

ajar to me but everyone.

You are but buried as deep as me

with nascent beats of agony

reactive to every thought.

Just a crack of opening

yet I can feel your beating heart.

The fragile twig of connection

between our parallel worlds

let's add some more seeds of spring

let it grow sapling to tree.

The twig shall then grow stronger.

And by the time both our worlds end

beyond and past the apocalypse,

our love shall live scattered

like the sparkling stardust.

-srijaprasita

Ruminate

For the smile, I see emanating from your eyes

Is the same reflected on mine
You see but yourself a lost cause
I see but myself a force to dodge
Yet somehow,
Somehow it makes sense
For me to find you amongst the forgotten cause
And for you to halt my overflowing concern.
Somehow the wishes we wished upon the stars
And the sunrise we embraced together
Ended up
Fulfilling the wishes
which I never thought
would connect me to you.
But then I question at times
the rhymes of heart
is it the same for you as it is for me?
But then I question million times
without that one intoxicated night
what would have happened
to the heart of yours
and the heart of mine?

-srijaprasita

Omnipresent

You found me withholding scars
amidst the shaken existence.
With strokes of innocent acceptance
you painted me like an origami.
And I learned to sigh
in the arresting warmth of your embrace.

You found me singing hymns of sorrow
amidst the tempest of trodden dreams.
With strokes of bittersweet cognizance
you filled in the barren pages after pages
of my existence.
And I learned to smile
in the nurturing essence of your presence.

You found me lost in myself
within the abyss of loneliness
And with strokes of unwavering surveillance
you sketched me into your poetries
immortalizing me for centuries
like a perfect piece of the jigsaw puzzle, that's your life.
And I learned to fly
with the flight of dreams that you weaved for me.

Under the tangerine sky you ruffled my feathers.
I fidgeted in panic as you stripped me of logic.
You ushered me into a free fall of emotions.
Yet the throbbing music of your whispers
hummed through me
until I morphed into your silhouette.
And now
betwixt losing you and losing myself
I choose the latter
for I exist in you
and you are omnipresent at least to me.
©srijaprasita

Metamorphosis

Night screams in colours people say

But even my dreams are black and white.

For the colors that I had dreamt of 

at a wee age of ten

was snatched away by those groping hands 

those I thought would protect me instead.

To date I feel the crawl of that roaming fingers.

To date I feel the weight of that sweaty chest

the very one where I had rested my head and slept.

But the weight then felt different

the breath familiar yet strange.

To date I feel the dreary exploration

the suffocating lusty ministration

To date I feel the intrusion

and my plea of suffocation.

To date I feel my gagged scream

and the tears of blood I shed.

To date I feel the helplessness

and pain of my innocence in shreds.

So now you see I am peeling off

Every single inch of my skin

to free my self from those imprints

permanently etched upon it.

And when you see me throwing up

the blood in my veins

know that I am trying to reshape me

for I am the blood of the one who raped me.

©srijaprasita

Until You

Do you know how it feels like

when the warmth recedes

leaving you buried six feet under the snow?

I know how the murmurs die down

struggle dissipates

along with the dreams

and muffled screams become whimpers

leaving behind echoing silences 

scattered over the vast stretch

of snowscapes.

And I know this because

everytime you wear your vanishing cloak

spring leaves me unattended

Summer forgets to rise

and me, the Bohemian soul,

singing effusively morose songs of solitude

waits for you at the wide junction

by the boulevard of my love

waiting and waiting

as the snow piles over me

freezing my heart.

Until you

come again

knocking on my door

thawing me 

and melting my solitude.

©srijaprasita

Hiraeth

Underneath the deep saffron sprayed sky
I try freezing the tide of time
holding onto the diaphanous
sheer cover of
the impending dusk
inadequately.
For,
despite my efforts,
the voices rise
as the light dims
and the night screams of solitude
for the eyes to see;
chaotic for my memories
that comes out
one by one
through
the locked doors
of
my consciousness.
My distressed soul then delves
deep into
the benthic woe
relentlessly fighting
dystopia
And
as my nerves
sediments
underneath the current
I become homesick
for my home
which
never existed.

My spiderling

My teeny tiny spiderling
came back to me crawling

"Hey spidy doo, how you doing?"
"Oh no spidy, call me Bing"
"What? How? Who named you?"
"There's a people, doodle Doo
Laying on a comfy bed
and the bedsheet nasty red.
That people did want a fight
But then he did scream in fright"
"You lie Bing, you are wee"
"No doodle, I did claim he"
"How did you? Prey tell?"
"That people sure did yell"
"I still think you are lying"
"No right now people is dying"
"You didn't sting? Did you?"
"People's round tummy peek-a-boo"
"What? Noooo. Not the tummy"
"Yeah doodle. It was yummy"…

Eww was my first thought
But then my spidy is a fraud.
He must have just ran away
and false claim is just his way.
And then my tiny friend
Lays on his back and starts again.

"People was dumb, doodle Doo."
"Oh really? Is it true?"
"Ahh yeah people turned his back
Coz courage, he *crawls* did lack"
"Now Bing, you are not making sense"
"Me does, he was people like you
But he was pretty light too
Wanted to have a creepy fight
But people turned away from my sight
People cracked a joke so lame
Would even put you to shame
So me without wasting time
Stung him, tummy and nose
Crawled up to his fancy dome
To leave people be and return home"

I know very well my spidy
he is a liar of first degree
Yet I cannot help and thus do think
Of the poor man suffering sting
From my naughty spiderling.

© srijaprasita

reverie

As I reach the finale of my finite dream
and as the sweet escape comes to an end,
Once again,
I find myself looking for
limitless and boundless streams of fantasies
humming through my senses.
The reverie where I suspend myself
is where you exist
like the dream flower that blooms
amidst the strewn twigs
of my submission.
With my wistful smile I move,
I know not where,
following the glistening trail
of your footsteps.
The whispers of the crashing waves
from the ocean of affection
calls out to you.
And, I am
the only one who comprehends
the silent echoes of my heartbeat
that rings through the hills
of your world.
I see myself halt once and hide twice
while you stand there
with your arms wide,
an open invitation for invasion.
A phone call jerks me out of my daydream
and your name flashes on the screen.
Reality sinks in, fantasy ends
and I know we are just meant to be friends.
Yet you do exist , on the other hand
as the protagonist of my Dreamland.
© srijaprasita

My words

Somedays words for me are
like stones underneath the river,
slippery
which slips away the moment
I try to hold onto them.
Somedays words for me
are like the epicenters
With tremors and quakes
haphazardly overboard
and with fearful rumble to the core.
Some days words for me
are the innocent smile of children
and toothless grin of elderly
with fantasies at times
and life stories at others
free flow of emotions.
Some days words for me
are like the pedestrian
stuck at traffic
unable to cross the road
waiting for the green signal.
Some days words for me
are like the pages after pages
Of life records
thrown away at a corner somewhere
disguised under the sheath of dust
waiting just waiting for it to be reopened.
Some days words for me
are echoes in the mountain
of emotions repressed
that reverberate
within four walls of my sanctuary.
Most days words for me
are just words
capitalized words of anger
Clipped words of irritation
Drawn words of boredom
cliched words of love
cold words of hatred
meek words of void
revived words of passion.
Just words
with defining adjectives
Just words
written somewhere
Just words
forming a sentence.
Just words
made up of letters.
©srijaprasita

Faceless

As I rummage through
the treasures of my youth
opening the closet of memories,
I see you standing there
amongst the blooming daisies
like an ethereal wood sprite
in human form.
Over the years
only figments of the day
remains with me as relics
and others like dragonflies
move around my periphery
just there
dancing and teasing me
yet out of my reach.
I remember your smile,
hazy image of pearly white teeth,
held hands,
your silk clothes  and my tattered jeans.
I remember the solemn vow
of your touch
that I dared trespass.
I remember how we danced
under the spring sun
as one
weaving fabrics of dreams
and kissed the night away
on a velvety ride.
Yet now everytime I see you
in my world of laments,
I want to ask you
"That day, was it deliberate
that you hid your face?".
Slowly and surely
your image is fading away
to nothingness
and the only picture I have of you
is faceless.
That's how silence echoes
Every single time
chipping away fragments
until the closet is locked again.