I see you in my nightmares,
And I associate you with pain
I see your eyes follow around,
With my every movement,
I know that you know.
Clenching my wrists towards my brain,
I scream so loud to ease my pain
You are history, so be gone,
Let me find peace, Let me dissolve you
For I’m secretly scared of you,
For I’m secretly ashamed of me.
©Roshni Rajshekhar Nair
NaPoWriMo 2018, Day 1- Prompt: write a poem that is based on a secret shame, or a secret pleasure.
For there I stood, on the shore,
With bent legs and folded arms
Watching my burnt ashes float, Slowly.
They travelled a distance, sinking and then,
Completely dissolving in the holy water.
Bid my younger self adieu, reaching my hands
To the river, helping it take me to the infinite ocean
To a place beyond imagination, far where spirits fly
To see that last Sunset and hear the music of the Wind-chimes
For there I stood, on the shore, leading myself, to NIRVANA.
-Roshni Rajshkehar Nair
Day 26 and today’s prompt is to write a poem on what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us?
‘Open your eye to the future’, greeted the doctor from the 23rd century
Here the sky was the Land, the land was barren, People flew,
And roots never grew. Time itself had travelled beyond space
And human acknowledgement. Out of the black, the space creatures
Breathed in something unnatural, produced in labs,
Green was a colour unknown to these humanly creatures.
The new born child looked into his mother’s eyes
Wondering, astonished, What should he feel? He imagined
Her eyes didn’t connect beyond the relations of the umbilical cord
She didn’t have glitter in those eyes, His father yet another space creature
Seemed like a man from Jupiter. It was the age was of science,
The age was of no emotions of love or happiness,
for no one here smiled, No one knew what laughter is
until today, When those tiny feet wiggled and that baby giggled,
It was a new unearthing and there went the future archaeologist
Insane in search of that new thing called “Smile”.
In search for the history of something named “Happiness”.
-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair
Day 25 and today’s prompt is inspired by the work of philosopher/critic Gaston Bachelard’s The Poetics of Space
Underneath my clothes,
Beyond my breasts, straight in the heart
Hidden is an ashy gray void,
Where I pile my deepest of the deep,
Pleasures, lies, feelings, memories, all clogged up.
It stinks in my chest, burns my core, But yet,
Every night I take a look in there and wait,
For those silent tears to roll down my chubby cheeks,
Hit below my face, and on the floor.
But still I visit this void over and over again, everyday,
Till a day, it becomes my favourite place to stay.
-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair