Monday, July 16, 2007

[i] pourquoi amour maux [/i]

If she's alone, let her know I am waiting
For, ever since we had parted, I never slept
As I was afraid that I will forget
The sweet dreams I saw of her for the last time.
My eyes have swelled into oceans of tears
The pieces of my broken heart are still beating
And every sound made by the blowing wind
Reminds me of melodies of her unheard songs.
The smile that she had, perhaps was the culprit
That transformed myself into a lover
I remember still those first words that I wrote
And kept writing the same forever and ever.

If she's alone and there is no other
To shower her with the flowers of love
To hold her warmly and shield her from cold
To weep and wash the dust from her feet-
Let me be the one, first to know
Since she shall no more deny the Truth
That my admiration is acknowledged
That my feelings have a nobler meaning.
Not all memories are just as sweet
Not all journies with their destinies meet
She knows as well as I understand
That things too precious can never be held
Nor can they be let go and lost.

If she's alone, pray, sing to her
Those words I kept humming to myself
Like the shy devotee, standing at the altar
Of the temple of love, praising the Goddess.
Times have never been the same always
Nor seasons, nature nor nights nor days
But there are things that never change:
As the Sun rises always on the east
As the thunder- clouds will cause the rains
So also my sufferings of the pains
Shall endure all the false pleasures.
My love for her shall never cease to be
Since she is still the most beautiful to me.

-Siddartha Pamulaparty
July 14-16, 2007

Saturday, July 07, 2007

The Lost Photograph

That evening was no ordinary
For you were sitting by my side
Close to each other, were you and me
Yet I was still trying to hide
The hunger of a burning fire
To open secrets of my little heart
At your feet and then with heed start
To let it out: this strong desire
In the form of words I often spoke;
You heard those before in the past
You knew that memories wouldn't last
If this silence was never broke
With a whisper or better a gesture
Like exchanging notes with our eyes
And understand, what's true, what's lies;
"Could we have, of us, taken a picture?"
It was you, who asked to my surprise
Interrupting my struggle all this while
To ask you the same, and then smile
For I was sure that I will win my prize.
Friends and cameras did their work
And trapped us for eternity
Or so I thought,I could not see
That somethings die just in the dark.
The photograph was lost in space
There was no chance since we parted ways
But I swear, that best were those days
When I used to see your lovely face
Now I brood in my loneliness
For there is not a single day
That your image was erased away
From my thoughts that swell in grace.
I regret that I could not hold
I could not forgive my weak strength
In that whole time of four months length
To kiss your lips, I was never bold.

-Siddartha Pamulaparty
Dt: 07 July 2007

The Birth

Not always does my pen go on
Not everyday I write
But at times, when I'm alone
And with myself begin to fight
I stray into the oblivion
And see an unseen light.
I hear strange voices
Spoken in unknown tongues
I feel the world around me
Has transformed overnight.
Every object I then sense
Inspires me with great delight
And thoughts start pouring
Deep from within my mind.
I then struggle day and night
To scribble those ideas bright.

(That is pretty much how
Some of my poems have born.)

-Siddartha Pamulaparty
April, 2007.