–
The mother inside of me finds no shortage of spontaneity and wit.
I can be surprisingly superfluous when I am lecturing my child.
Trouble arrives when I call myself a writer, and that’s when I get deliberate.
When I dictate myself to the writer’s rigor, dictation gets scant in my head.
Words… A few of those that got me into trouble with my sister’s feelings.
The same words that rivaled the time and place they were spoken at.
I lose the freedom to think, emote and be myself when I choose to write,
I did not live a terrible childhood, so, I must not have anything to say??
Others have flawless expectations about how I should be a mother, a sister, a wife,
a daughter and a friend.. I have none other than my own obligations to save the world.
The quest is mostly a secret one, one that I am sure no will “get it” about me. But, I
create visuals of dreams, death, hunger and seduction which I hope society can perceive.
It’s not a choice of purpose and productivity over fame and money, I assure myself.
Words should not aggravate expectations when I am famous.
I feel the same vulnerability as I wait for that invitation to a friend’s house.
Emotions become loyal to me when I am not true to myself.
I clear the mental clutter, the thoughts of the missing keys, deadlines not met, etc.
Stopping time and stitching lines into place that are as timeless as possible.
I take up probationary hermit-hood to assemble images of social justice, and
challenge myself to be able to excel in the art of perceiving others’ thoughts.
We all have needs and this is mine, I am sure of that. If I have to,
I will compete with my baby who can speak up a lexicon and make it sound genius.
There are many drafts, I vex over conversations in the head and on paper.
Finally, when words come to me effortlessly, my existence seems solitary.
I have spent a huge chunk of my life on this brilliant poem, and you, my reader will own it.
Now, like all those other times, I will get back out there into spaces filled with people.
I will try my best to make myself approachable, for the fear of running out of material.
To love, hurt, get wounded, make errors and replenish those loss of words…..
–
Composed on 08/11/2014
– 0 –
About The Article Author:
Hi, I’m Rachana. Its been my dream for years to do something to consciously create a better future where every one of us is excited about our own potential. My challenge to everyone is that they aspire for their personal best and leave a legacy of their work through their contributions to mankind.
One more thing. In December of 2044, I hope to win the Nobel.
Will you join me on this journey of growth and transformation?
Namasté.
Poetry
Dear Refugee, My Life Must Go On.. – A Poem By Rachana
- 0 - The translated Telugu version: ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ.. This poem appeared originally in The Saaranga Magazine HERE. - It's not too unthinkable,sipping licorice tea in my cardigan,And day dreaming of a life of civil liberties....
Momentous: A Poem On The Value Of Time
- It's not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst.You want to know what it is? It's something you have or don't more than I do, because there's no straight finish line here.It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways...
Perceiving My Anthropology
- I don't know what moves him.I remember the day he came back home tohide his red eyes behind that newspaperafter he lit his mother's pyre.This is the man, the brunt of all my emotions,whose lifetime fits in this poem. It's mostly the appalling nature of...
To My Estranged One
- Ok, I admit; I still have that shameful longingness.When you gathered everything else up and left me to myself, And, when the war of words ended, It was clear that the love between us had begun to show cracks.It would never happen to me, was the conviction I...
Yours Singularly – A Love Poem By Rachana
Want to listen to me read it? - Always close by my side, he mocks me.Calling the lack of endearment around me,self-inflicted.Late in the afternoon, at work,“This team of people around you just need you tobreak their bread”, he mulls. At the bar,he demands to...
Still Standing, Still Standing..
- The below is a first person account of a village tree who lost the friendship of a small boy to the big charm of the city.. - At day break, I wait for your shrill cries of laughter to pierce my ears..I ponder while I drink the primary cocktail,a...
Dear Sons: Full Disclosure
- A life's worth of choices. Subjected to, day in, day out.Freedom of expression. Empathy exercises. Vulnerability followed by weakness. Protection from cold. Letting the homeless die from it. Health of the children. Love. A gentle kind word. People who didn't...
Now – A Poem on Time
- Of all the things I have and can desire to have, my time on this earth, and the time my kids will have of mine is finite. I am mindful of that. What I am also painfully mindful is that I do not choose well how I spend it. As an adult, time and the freedom to...
Child Bearers of the World – What Remains – A Poem by Rachana
- A Poem on Loneliness, Loss, Survival, and Inheritance. - Distracted mothers create loneliness.Those children celebrate uncertainty.And out of the imperfect first steps,They quickly learn, no love is earnest. Fathers cry when planes disappear.Worlds unite to search...
Tea Rings – A Poem by Rachana
Listen To The Article:- There is the love of mother that needs no senses to feel its expression.And, that’s where I begin my journey of this life with you. In that vintage picture, I think of how you became a woman coming of age.Wounds of the uprooting I...
Temples in Our Hearts – A Poem by Rachana
- While others make smoldering burial grounds in memory,those who have never made promises to make us laughbuild their own temples in our hearts. Stories that don’t need our mother’s tongue at all,are these secret wishes that transcend cultures and...
Retribution?!?!
* If I knocked on your door for a cup of waterfor my parched throat,Would you be able to tell,I am not your next door neighbor..? If not, then, why this thirst for my life.. ???? * Near these foothills,of some of the world's coldest mountains..I...