She had a falling out with me
The day I fell in love with her.
The fault, I say, was in our feet.
Our gaits were unfamiliar:
I was iambic, out of step
With her trochaic tendencies.
I climbed to slide and jump with joy.
She dove to soar and glide with ease.
She planned pentasyllabic fun
For my monosyllabic moods.
And when she needed space and breaks
I walked into prosaic woods.
It’s good we weren’t meant to be.
I’ve found who’s meter-made for me.
Enduring Worth needs Urgency.
But Urgency needs Patience, Poise.
Before the Cheetah sprints to hunt,
It scopes terrains and runs through ploys.
It welcomes Boredom, Tedium –
Essential allies in the hunt.
The dreary sharpening of claws
Prepares it for the final stunt.
Its mighty heart and massive lungs,
So inefficient, bothersome,
Are just the tools it needs to chase
Opportunities when they come.
It goes for days without a kill.
It doesn’t store its food as fats.
The hunger focuses its search,
Impels it to new habitats.
Our artists, scientists deep in work
Are cheetahs sharpening their claws,
Amassing bodies of research
Required for their mighty cause.
Their days are dreary, dull to watch.
They do not swim in ready cash.
But when their time arrives at last,
Their action makes the biggest splash.
I’ve seen the bodies of our dead,
But haven’t seen them as they die.
I’ve seen before-and-after states,
But never during, never live.
I wonder how they leave their lives.
I can’t forget a single time
I’ve seen a goat or chicken cut:
They always writhed in blood and slime.
I’ve seen the crabs in boiling pots.
They start to climb but lose their steam.
Their spirits rising, full of scent,
Disperse as unremembered dreams.
I’ve seen a rat under a bowl
Of crystal-clear plexiglass
Eat up its tail when desperate
To live its way through poison gas.
I’ve seen a bee without its sting.
I’ve seen a puppy’s highway crash.
I’ve seen a pigeon in a well.
But haven’t seen a human pass.
Is that why Death is so obscure?
A foggy concept in my mind?
A thing that comes to movie stars,
Dramatic front with gore behind?
Perhaps the doctors shouldn’t hide
The dying in their curtained spreads.
Perhaps they should record the deaths
As done by some on birthing beds.
Today my muse has taken leave.
She needs to get her second shot,
Innoculating her against
The viral temptations I’ve got.
She tells me distance, quarantine,
Are vital to my solitude –
The well from which I draw my ink –
I shush her with ingratitude.
She tells me I should mask my words,
To keep my germs from getting out,
Infecting those who’re close to me,
Who chose to be with me throughout.
And yet I whine, complain, protest.
I raise my fists and say I’m free.
“I’m free to do the things I want”
Forgetting I’m a nobody.
Forgetting no one owes me shit.
Forgetting all I get is love.
They give me gifts because they care.
I cannot claim that I deserve.
I can’t keep giving everything
Unless my everything’s renewed.
And so I dip my buckets in
The emptiness of solitude.
It’s easier to say than do.
But easier to do than die.
It all depends on who I am:
Arena man or passerby.
Remember, I have what they have.
The here, the now, the choice to strive.
And nothing else besides the three’s
Necessary to be alive.
Sufficient? Maybe. Maybe not.
Ideal? Maybe. Maybe not.
The here, the now, the choice to strive:
That’s everything I’ve ever got.
You hide the food in ironware.
The rats will find the Way.
You try to trap them in a snare.
The rats will find the Way.
You clog their burrow, fill their hole,
You block their exit, spill petrol,
You light ’em up to kill them whole,
The rats will find the Way.
They nourish on your decadence,
And flourish on your sufferance.
Abhorish in their dominance,
The rats with find the Way.
You’re bound to lose, admit defeat.
Erase your ego, sound retreat.
Become a student at their feet:
The rats will find the Way.
An eagle landed on a branch.
A jasmine fell into my tea.
I shooed the bird away at once.
I let the drowning blossom be.
A lizard scurried up my leg.
I panicked, spilling all the tea.
The reptile, scalded, screamed away.
The jasmine witnessed silently.
I did my best, I put my all.
I did not get results I sought.
Is this success? Or did I fail?
I did not do the best I could.
I got results regardless, though.
Is this success? Or did I fail?
If I’m the only one to say
Whether success or failure came,
What if I call it all success?
Is that allowed? Who gets to say?
“Successful”, claims media
Whoever brings them eyeballs new.
Of course, there is a pleasure too
In bringing down “successful” folk.
The eyeballs love the guillotine.
I cannot find a moment still
To sit, to breathe, to write a bit.
I’ve failed to do my job today.
I didn’t protect my time and space.
I did not distance from my mind
Distractions I could do without.
I let the non-essentials
Invade my sanctum sanctorum.
The price is hurried, tasteless lunch.
The price is hurried, tasteless lines.
The price is hurried, tasteless fights
With loving people in my life.
I pray I get another day
Where I don’t act so cast away.
I have applied by email, see?
“Requesting your permission, Ma’am,
To make a Dent in Universe.”
They take a while, I have been told.
Their toll-free number’s not so good.
They play a holding message, see?
They tell you ’bout these other things
That you could do to pass the time.
They tell you clocks are missing cogs.
They tell you you’re the perfect fit.
They tell you you can be the one
Who helps the millions keep their time.
Of course, it’s meaningful and right.
Of course, you make a difference there.
And maybe you should take it up,
Forgetting why you called their desk.
It ain’t for me, though, honestly.
You see, I sent that email, yes?
It’s not to get their go-ahead.
It’s just the cover for my ass.
I’m throwing hammers already.
I throw them daily folded blind.
A few too short, a few too long.
A few too light to be so strong.
But throw I do, and you can too.
And we don’t need permission, see?
We always have those cogless clocks
To fit into in times of need.
And maybe we can steal someday
The pendulum that sways our fate.
And throw it like Olympian cogs:
Around, around, and (ughff) away!
Minakhi Misra 