so the next time

ft. yours truly’s hands

so the next time when love knocks your door,
say that you lost its keys long, long ago
and
you are searching,
still searching,
whisper word by word in love’s ears, because she’s partially deaf.

ask her to wait with little patience
and
initiate a conversation,
ask why she comes, gives and goes,
ask why her life expectancy is short, so short,
ask if she lives enough in such a tiny span,
ask why she wipes tears and bring them back,
ask why she touches the intimate parts of the body
and creates invisible deep bruises,
ask why she undresses soul and leave it burn in grief,
ask how she blinds eyes with a thin sheet of care, affection
and connects random minds,
ask how she dissects heart, breaks it into fragments and never tries to fix them back,
ask, ask her again,
add stress upon your words and
SCREAM
WHY SHE CAME BACK.


Thank you so much for reading!

34 thoughts on “so the next time

  1. Unfortunately most fall in love without understanding. Without understanding own needs, the other person and the situation. Heartbreak…pain is a natural outcome post that.
    Beautifully penned Hemlatha..
    Stay blessed always
    🙏☀️🌹

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Late Lament

    “Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
    Watch lights fade from every room.
    Bedsitter people look back and lament,
    Another day’s useless energy spent.
    Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
    Lonely man cries for love and has none.
    New mother picks up and suckles her son,
    Senior citizens wish they were young.
    Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
    Removes the colours from our sight.
    Red is grey and yellow white.
    But we decide which is right.
    And which is an illusion?”

    “Nights in White Satin”

    Such A Moving Song From

    Youth And “Late Lament”

    An Ending Poem When Songs

    Were Deeper Than So Shallow When

    Love Is Lasting And Deep As The Ocean

    Not A Fisherman of Only Hook, Catch, And Release

    Dear Hemalatha As so Many Fine Wines Before they

    Even Have A Chance to Age into a Mature Love Face

    in These
    Days of
    Hook, Catch
    And Release Dating Apps…

    Anyway Back to “Late Lament”
    A Poem Penned And Drummed By
    One of the Members of the “Moody
    Blues” Band Yes Such An Appropriate Band

    Name Then For A Group of Artists Developing

    ‘Nights in White Satin’ For The Ages Yes Both

    Young And Old to Hear And It’s Rather Strange

    In the November of my Life Both Seasons and me

    Of Florida In December Have Changed From Winter
    to Fall Spring Delivering Summer’s Gift of Warmth Again…

    Strange
    It Seems
    That When
    i Was Your Age

    Four Decades or So Ago
    Struggling though College

    Gasping for the Oxygen of Love

    To Find Warm Comfort In Cold Winter Clothes

    True i Felt More Like The Old Man Wishing He Was Young
    Then Than the Old Man Now Thankful That He No Longer

    Visits ‘Late

    Lament’

    in Beginning
    Spring Months Of Life

    For It is True Grandma At the
    Holiday Seasonal Gatherings
    May Hold The Warmest Arms

    Of All Only For The Decades of
    Loving Thanks Giving For Giving For All

    Love is An Ocean to Explore Love is the Feathers
    of Wings Soaring So High Yet Diving So Deep in the

    Ocean Again

    to Only

    Capture

    And Consume Fish

    SMiles Dear FRiEnD We Went
    to A Birthday Party of my Wife’s Two
    Great Great Nephews Yesterday Yes

    Which of Course Means i am A Great Great Uncle

    Hehe An Oldest Maritimer of Oceans Deep Experiencing iNdeed…

    Yet It’s True i Swear

    To me it Seems

    The Youngest

    Person in that Whole

    Park i Observed That

    Day A Homeless Man Living

    in the Eternal Present With a Mission

    Only To Feed The Squirrels And With the Same

    Kind of Faith in the Kindness of Others That Christians

    Might Attribute to A Barefoot Jesus With Empty Pockets

    Trusting in the Power of Love to Give in Days of Endless Need

    For Basic
    Subsistence
    in Life Yet It’s

    True That Youngest

    Person of Soul in the

    Park only Had One Mission

    In Life to Feed the Furry Little Creatures

    That Climb Trees Free in Life By Hand For It’s True

    When We Are Free This Is How Nature Paints Us Free

    Free Enough to

    Ask for Help

    And Still

    Free Enough

    to Give to Creatures

    Smaller Than Us my FRiEnD

    It’s True That Homeless Man Understands

    The Essence of Loving Kindness in Thank Giving

    For Giving The Place With No Last Lament Indeed

    “Nights in White Satin” Such a Beautiful Song Only

    Aging Like A Finest Wine of Feeding the Little Furry

    Creatures Who Climb the Trees Free By Hand my FRiEnD

    For It’s True

    If All We Do

    In Life is Water
    And Feed A Sapling
    Tree That Tree May One

    Day Inspire An Even Greater Love mY FRiEnD

    And This is the Beauty of Poetry Feeding the Squirrels

    We May Never Even Meet Or Inspiring the Happiest

    Man in the World Now to Remember “Late Lament” in Spring…

    When

    Shadows

    Ruled The Day

    And Winter Never Now Then

    Becomes Spring’s Dream That’s Real..

    True Though Not Unlike A Homecoming

    Dream of Drinking Hot Chocolate in

    Winter Chill Holding Hands

    With The Most

    Beautiful

    Girl in the Football Stands

    After 32 Years my Wife Hardly

    Ages And We Are Still Sitting

    In Those Stands Holding Hands

    Drinking Hot Chocolate Under the
    Warmest Lasting Blanket As Love Loves All…

    A Place Covered By Most Beautiful White Satin Sheets oF LoVE iN Deed…

    And It’s True my Wife Has Never Been to A Football Game Yet the Love is Real…

    And Poetry

    Dreams Truth

    For Love to Breathe…

    When Summer Falls

    For Winter Leaves

    To Feed Spring

    Green

    Again

    my FRiEnD

    Never A Last Lament

    Through Every Breath of Love Who Gives…

    “Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
    Watch lights fade from every room.
    Bedsitter people look back and lament,
    Another day’s useless energy spent.
    Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
    Lonely man cries for love and has none.
    New mother picks up and suckles her son,
    Senior citizens wish they were young.
    Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
    Removes the colours from our sight.
    Red is grey and yellow white.
    But we decide which is right.
    And which is an illusion?”

    Never Ever Love Breathing
    Now Thanks Giving For Giving Real This Life
    Inhaling Peace Exhaling LoVE iN Joy oF LiGHT

    Liked by 1 person

  3. when one looks outside,
    there’s lots of places to seek and hide,
    yet all along one must look inside,
    in there I am sure one will find,
    a love serene,
    a love sublime,
    it’s been yours all the time,
    no more seek and hide

    *your words reach far Hema*

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Hema, they do and how, especially The Need… I usually react impromptu so it’s often on reflection, having felt your words at heart, I then get the learning. And I think that you may have discovered ‘Joy’ or at the very least guided me towards my own. Wow, Eh? En-Joy Hema you’re a [add word yet to be sufficient to say what you do] °°°°°°

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Hahaha it was such a sudden and quick write-up. I’m glad it turned out well! As I say, when words flow unexpectedly, I try my best to capture them in phone notes or on paper.
      Thank you so much for reading, Vignesh!

      Like

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