It's me
just me and only me
lonely, vulnerable
gullible too at times
...
here i stand
facing these inquisitive faces
searching me top to bottom
giggling, sniggering, wobbling
...
come, befriend me
but be forewarned
i welcome not the faint-hearted
for i am what i am;
...
tonight i shall take the plunge
to this moment have i waited
tonight i shall confide
break the chains of secrecy
...
ah! the joy
the joy of being heard
the knowledge of acknowledgement
of finding a kindred heart
...
it cost them nothing
to put on that smile
stretch that hand
look into those eyes
...
little things you do
little things you say
little things you choose not to say
changes your life
...
there's some thing about this man
tall, stooping now with the weight of his belly
with a casual smile
and a glow in the eyes.
...
do look back
often and on
to those days yonder
spent by the bougainvilla
...
fuelled by pregnant silences
i embark upon a journey to myself
sitting back i relax
...
its the power of being mute
not open not quite
is the trick to upset others
...
her love entranced steps
leave no foot prints
as she sprints
floating in the breeze
...
she said to me, look within to find your self
i found it silly, to spend time thus
for what would one find
in one so common
...
writhing in pain, legs strapped
i take my baby steps at 28
as the struggle continues
...
there he goes, my valentine
sweet his eyes, full of tender care
here he sat, by the fire place
holding my hand as if in a trance
...
here my love, come take your seat
enough is said of old times spent
sit close watch the dove
...
this day here at this place
seek your heaven in her face
this minute hither in her company
...
The honey bee sucks blood
poisoning nectar with ire
the heat of hatred
...
what shall i say
if by saying out i set them to nought
the emotions churning within
...
a teacher by profession and a learner by inclination)
The Voice Is Heard
It's me
just me and only me
lonely, vulnerable
gullible too at times
it's me
just me and me alone
raising my voice
feeble, frightened
it's how i learnt
though it sounded strange
to hear me speak
i tried
and here i am
not lonely any more
in company of those who think alike
i voice my thoughts
read you may or may not read
not much difference shall that make
for now i know
the strength of my voice-
feeble, frightened though it may sound.
its the voice of the many
ignored needy
we have a stronger voice
high pitched, shrill
forcing ears to strain to listen
here we've arrived..
the voice is heard...
Hallo sreelekha-premjit Nice work, Very mysterious and lively Daphne Grant
Are we talking about Geeta Atmaram from Palakkad.