Beyond the Sway

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From this to               that    to
This  
           To
That              to

This to that               to
                      That          
                                        and that     and
                      
                                   that             and
    
This —–            Stop!!!

.
.
.

Floating

             Ceiling fan whiz
Virgin breeze              bereft of scent   Dozing  nose swells in smug bliss
       Soft thuds           afar       outside
Sacred hands  working out their cross

Scrapes of spades       sandy crunch
Tongs tingling          taste of summer lunch
Still rest on my moist tongue     asleep

Lids          shut out unreal       shut in
Me       in my world          unchanging

© All rights reserved, Nivedita Dey, 2016

Wordless

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Roots
Without water off the memory leaf
Wilt

How
Many Suns I haven’t been son of my soil
Sad!

Each
Name, frame, framed face, unframed word
Rusts

Poesy
Of desire, delight, passion plight, gushes
Back

Fish
In and out of water fried in pan and fire
Judged

Eyes
Dance between blaring and blur and blank
Bliss

Words
Forever disrupting every tie and téte-a-téte..
Hush..!!

© All rights reserved, Nivedita Dey, 2016

The Hovering

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Huff and puff
Puff out the stress, injest
The control between those fingers
In war with the slipping control panel.

I watch
My watch by the second hand
Desires, delirium, dance of death.
Hover over the tossing sea.
Watch. Untouched.
I smile.

© All rights reserved, Nivedita Dey, 2016

Pelted! – A Poem Dedicated to OCD Survivors

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Crammed cranberries putrid juices
Hammer aloud at my greys
.
.
.

Yikes! The pelting cranberries
Gunshot fierce Gunshot fast
Gunshot loud the brain blast .. (continued)

Like it? You can read the full poem at the link below, my Mental Health Awareness blog –

https://takecaredearmind.wordpress.com/2016/05/31/pelted-a-poem-dedicated-to-all-who-struggle-with-ocd/

Creativity heals. Spread Poetry. Spread Love. Heal the World.

© All rights reserved, Nivedita Dey, 2016

Peacewashed

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Four walls whitewashed
Close in – oozing serenity
Life breath back and warmth
Welcoming white – placidity
After a stormy tossed about sautéed day
Running incessant around the bush
Beating brains to grow up
Into acceptable goods –
What the heck! For livelihood’s sake
You turn and turn the diurnal wheel
Until
An invisible chime sweetens to six
I return to my anchor fixed
Four walls
Whitewashed
Like they have nothing to say
No words no noise no point to ponder on
Just be
A thoughtless stare
Feet, face once more bare
Bask
In Nothingness

© All rights reserved, Nivedita Dey, 2016

Metamind

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The day – a frenzy
Unsolicited knocks – unfinished slumber
I roll out the day on my tongue

Fear.. fear.. everywhere..
Fear of news, views, going askew
Dolce handbags high heel shoes
Questions answers that constantly run –
To whom seated where?

Never a fear of silence of solitude

Eye alight from I
Root within, rim the mind
Embrace my One Sphere

© All rights reserved, Nivedita Dey, 2016

Woodnote

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As I walk deeper than seen
On the happy crackle of dry leaf
Some others on boughs rustle
Hustle and bustle of happy children
Of Green – some yellow some brown,
Air-nymph whistles through their arms
Ruffles my warm jubilant tresses
Messes mischievously with me
Somewhere unseen a mellow knock
Thuck – Thuck – Thuck – Thuck!
A Hermit peckering away at wood
Chiseling out joy and a home
The bluest dome scatters
Softest cotton buds for my eyes
To wipe the sweat and fret off their corner
At another unseen corner
I trace the sweetest squeak, chirp, kiss
Must be feathered lovers at foreplay

Woodnotes sway – in and out
Of the dappled forest of multitude
Colors – red flames of the forest
With nest of brown house doves
Humming baritone baroque songs
Eyeing from its perching
Peace-lilies, peach, cherry blossoms
Pink, white petals Amaranthine
Sniffing softly the Love of the One
Who scatters Love notes through the scented air

And there the water too – punctuated by
Blob – Blob – of finned bubbles
Plop – plomp – of untimely falls
A green berry here a raw guava there
Like babies jumping into a swim
A frolic a dip among quips of
The bluest Kingfisher atop a floating log
Suddenly a loud quaking laughter
And louder flappings of ecstasy

Startles me – I look around
Lo! The whitest egret with a red crown
Is found – worshiping its Bird God
Upon one leg among hundreds of wings
Flapping quacking smacking of love
And the drooling beaver watches on
Between its soft pregnant dips and gulps
Of freshest water of the forest stream
Nearby a purr of playmate twins
Furred in richest cocoa coat
Growl howl chatter clatter of paws

Awes the senses this array
Of never-ending yet never-tiring notes
Until a sudden cabbage cloud bursts
Drowning every other prattle
With the philharmonic of pitter patter
Rising fast upto a canyon orchestra
Until again all subside to give rise
To return of cooings amidst the petrichor
Deep within a more original jungle
Non-concrete – discreet – they greet
Quenching my love-parched Soul –
These dewy woodnotes!

© All Rights belong to Nivedita Dey, 2016

Nyct-Ophelia

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The garage floor strewn !
Gone
Nuts! Bolts! Screws – chips of iron
Some red hot, some cold
Some other tepid numb
Words like twisted nest – too dumb
For wise ears – for dumb ones
Too wise – scattered scraps
Of brains and trains of thoughts
Whistling by – until midnight
Gags up imbecile garbles
In my window – silence tiptoes
Carefully avoiding missteps
On strewn sooty charcoal pies – eyes
Distilling remembrance – ash, a dash of gold
The mind floor – smells like petrichor

© All Rights belong to Nivedita Dey, 2016

Some Scents Can’t Be Named

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There are no words
For some scented worlds
That linger upon memory’s nose

They never sprayed
The house those days
With pineapple lavender or rose

You jump from lists
To list and yet none fits
The game you play with your grey

Musty too damp a phrase
For that cool sharp graze
Whose name I search till this day

Eggy too indignified for
Mumma’s omlettes galore
Taste still tap dancing my tongue

Floral fruity woody et all
Find no room in the wooden hall
Table legs spread to play each morn

An airy hall with sunlight
A kitchen of palate’s delight
Smelling of known cheese and herbs

Recall that faded world
Jostle to find The word
End up with endless nouns and verbs

A smell smelling as this
Like Zen winter breeze
In spite of memorised hostilities

That space I love to hate
In its grave alive till date
With a mother’s blood and a father’s futilities

Memorial etched, Geez!
Timeless upon my nose bridge
A gap between vocab and sense

Nose does disagree
With words I now set free
Forever hang me upon that One fragrance

© All Rights belong to Nivedita Dey, 2016

Whispers from the Nest

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A mossy cottage
In a larkspur lane of a lanky child
A cranky child cooing with doves
She saw behind the pane
On the sill father sealed
Dusting off and away with the nest
Unborn pigeon from squashed eggs
Still flutter inside the fragrant lane
Dappled with forgotten joy and
A Perennial pane

© All Rights belong to Nivedita Dey, 2016