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Neethu Roy Poem
Heart Washed Ashore
“The sun of my reason has set.
My thoughts have set sail and
My heart was washed ashore last night.
Take me to the bottom of the ocean.
There, I will build you a sandcastle.”
I asked you to bring me something from your memories.
You brought me all the stars in the Universe;
You brought me their gleam, their glimmer.
And I, I stood there consumed by their warmth.
In that moment, I realized that you will always love me more.
I waited for the dewdrop to come home;
But you painted for me dark blue skies and thunder.
The clouds brought me to you and I stayed; I stayed
Because there was no part of me that hadn't felt the rain.
In that moment, I realized you were my comfort; my ease.
I stretched out my hand to touch that petal.
And you flooded me with peaches and flowers,
You made me believe in Orange trees and destinies;
I watched our euphoria take over my dreams.
In that moment, I realized that you were my escape.
I let myself fall asleep on your lap and heard our time tick away.
I guessed correctly then, that Time would be our antagonist.
And I must say, she played it quite well.
I couldn’t feel the scent of your laughter anymore.
In that moment, I realized that I had already lost you.
I'm sorry I let my mind strike those words out;
I hadn't realized that they were stories from another world;
I hadn't realized that I was erasing your dream.
I'm sorry I didn't even feel the heat of your fire;
I was so consumed in mine.
Think of happy places, happy people; they said.
But in all my thoughts, I saw myself with you.
You are my happiness. The period I refused to place.
You are the ink-spot that refused to wash off.
Come be my snowfall again; I promise I won’t hurt the flakes.
Our yesterdays were so beautiful. Oh yes, they were!
They've held most of our smiles and best of our memories.
Frightened at the sight of our dreams coming true
I don't want our tomorrows to meet.
So hold my hand one last time and wish me a Good Life.
Let our destinies lay buried under the shade of our Orange Tree.
18 October 2016
Words Drowned In Tears Poetry Contest
Copyright © Neethu Roy | Year Posted 2015
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Neethu Roy Poem
The roof seems to have come alive
Raindrops now treading softly on tip toes
The skies clouded with cottons full of water
They drip down as though they are squeezed
Black turns white and so they pave way for others
From little pitter-patter to heavy thuds and splashes
They have grown, graciously engulfing everything
I turn over, not wanting to leave my warm covers
I pull up the quilts and try to drift away
But I can’t resist it any longer, the rain tempts me
I’ve always been addicted to rainy days,
Today is no exception…so I jump off my bed
Still encased in my quilt, I settle on the sill
Arms around my knees, I stare at the heavens
Oh! So wonderful, so magical, almost fairy tale like
The line seems broken yet steady, bulky yet graceful
Departed from home, they splash on foreign land
Soon, they seep into the depths exploring the layers
Some fall on silky leaves which make them their own
Some others join their fathers, flowing to the unknown
It all happens with a blink of the eye…
It continues to rain as I shed my warmth
Looking around I realise I am alone,
Except of course for the little raindrops
Who keep me company on lonely days
My only solace on teary mornings
My inspiration when I’m about to let go
My mentors when I need a hand to reach out to
The raindrops are falling and I know today is good
My morning cleansed pure with the flowing elixir
The rest of the sun, still awaiting my arrival
I’m full of spirit…I’m alive with fire fed by water
The raindrops are falling and I know today is good
After all it is raining…raindrops are falling
What could go wrong?
Copyright © Neethu Roy | Year Posted 2012
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Neethu Roy Poem
GROUND ZERO
Today as I stand here,
With your name engraved not just on stone
But in the hearts of millions who thank you
For not letting them cry,
I feel proud that it was you…
We wish you were here,
There’s not a day we don’t think of you.
There’s not a minute we don’t miss you.
But we’re glad you ran into death
So that a thousand others could walk into life.
It was not your duty,
You weren’t meant to be there,
But you took it up,
Did what you had to do
As a citizen of the global world.
The little ones will never know
What a wonderful person you were.
But they’ll always know that
You were a hero…
How you died for the greater good…
Tears, grief, pride, longing - a blend of everything.
Its been ten years, ten long years
But the memory’s still fresh and cutting.
It still hurts to know
That you could be here had you stayed back.
But you didn’t and that’s made you a hero.
You ran straight into it
While a thousand others were running away.
Your death is history….
Millions died with you
But you stand out ‘coz you made your choice.
As I stand here, I know that a decade ago, today
You were here somewhere,
Running into a cloud of dust and ashes
Searching for the smallest sign of movement
To bring them back to life.
Somewhere between the despair and hope
You forgot to breathe…
I pray every day that
History would rewind itself
Back to that fateful September morning,
Not because I want to hold you back…
But because I want to come with you…
It would have made a difference.
I know it would have…
I know you’re with me
In my dreams, in my daily life
Laughing at my blunders,
Guiding me through hardships.
My guardian angel…
On this September morning,
Not exactly the same as before,
Here I am telling the world
That my twin brother died
Saving the victims of 9/11.
Copyright © Neethu Roy | Year Posted 2012
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Neethu Roy Poem
A TRIBUTE
A little child once stood on a doorway
To enter what was to be his world
For years to come.
Looking around for a friendly face,
The little one stood still for a while.
Then came that warm helping hand
That held him tight,
With glittering eyes, a reassuring smile
And a face that glowed.
As the little one grew, in both body and mind,
She stayed with him through thick and thin.
His unsteady hand
That mis-spelt every word at first
Soon wrote at a stretch, pausing no where.
She held him safe and sound all the time.
The little bulging eyes of his
That feared to face his very own class
Looked at every stranger
With a new found confidence.
She smiled at his progress
And loosened her grip.
Heights at first terrified him,
But after a couple of falls, an encouraging thrust
And the feeling that she was beside him always
Made him climb higher and quicker.
She let him go and faded away into the crowd
While strangers poured into his life.
But she never forgot him,
For like many other little children
Who once held her hand through the years,
He too had seized a special place in her heart.
Once free, the bird then soared high,
Reaching new clouds and touching success
Time and again.
A fresh life lay ahead of him
Applauds and roses, quite familiar then.
Sometime later in life,
When he became his true self again,
He realized that he missed someone
In spite of the horde that surrounded him.
So, he returned to that doorway
Through which years ago he entered his world.
He stood still for a moment
Knowing not what to do.
He searched for that hand that once held him tight
Making him feel sheltered.
For the eyes that glittered in darkness
Showing him the trail.
For the smile that reassured him
Pushing him further and further ahead.
Then he found her.
Her face wrinkled, hair grey
Yet her heart still the same.
For this time, another little one stood beside her.
Holding her hand like how he once held hers.
He walked upto her,
His steps steady, eyes confident
And said
“THANK YOU TEACHER
FOR WHAT I AM TODAY
I OWE IT TO YOU”
That day, two pair of eyes
Shed tears of joy and pride.
While the third one looked on expectantly.
Copyright © Neethu Roy | Year Posted 2012
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Neethu Roy Poem
I need to heal and fast,
I can feel the time running out, all too soon.
But can't push myself out of the agony,
The threads of pain pull me back like a puppet.
I seem wrong to be grieving now, odd one!
Everybody else is no longer black,
Me, haven’t seen the sunlight for long;
The mansion, its corridors, the rooms now my world.
The wound in my heart is still too fresh,
It forbids me from a sunset on the beach,
It forbids me from running or skipping,
It forbids me from laughter and joy...
In denial: they say but it's not all true, I accept
I know he is dead, He is no more
But do I dump him in my past and move on?
The thought makes me hate myself!
He would want you to smile again, live further..
Strangers tell me his likes and wants, the know-it-alls.
I look straight ahead and avoid their prying eyes
It’s a losing battle, I know but let me lose in grace...
Visitors keep pouring in, with flowers and tears.
He was a man loved by many, the crowd proves it,
Everybody seems shocked and pale but not as lost as me
I glide along the windows, reliving the shadow of memories...
The moments were many, uncountable even,
It crushes my soul to think, they are all I have,
I see his fingerprints on the window panes,
I search for mine too, just beside him they lay...
The garden is being watered, but by a strange hand
The plants understand the master is now below them,
He will never enjoy their colors or drive away moths
His ashes and scent scattered around the mango tree..
I smile at the garden then burst out laughing,
Before I know, warm tears run down my nose
But there still lingers a smile, wet with glistening tears
I am happy he lived, he lived full and more...
Copyright © Neethu Roy | Year Posted 2013
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Neethu Roy Poem
The window panes are brightly lit,
The rays enter my room with grit.
Their target, my eyes shut tight,
I turn over; my response to the light.
The room turns into an oyster; a gem,
Sleep now hanging just by the hem.
My sleep, it is gone, all too sudden,
Welcoming the day, I start to redden.
Finally I’m off the bed; on the floor,
My arms too weak, too sore.
I stretch my body, I strengthen up
I look at my hair, Uhh! a messy lump…
My French window… God, I’m in love!
It’s my morning beauty… my dove.
The coffee still hot, wisps in the air
Reaching with grace I take it with care.
Sipping the delight into my balcony,
I see my street, somehow too melancholy.
Birds chirping on the trees, the breeze
Kissing my hair, I take it all in with ease.
Leaning on the railing I cry, I plead
Today, Lord, let me not to death, bleed
I need to count my days, my moments,
I tried but sorry, the doctor laments.
The big C has got hold of the volcano…
It will no longer gush, it’s too late, oh no.
I can see the day, feel the morning
Without a trace of regret, not weeping.
I have but mornings such as these
To wish my time would forever freeze.
Copyright © Neethu Roy | Year Posted 2012
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Neethu Roy Poem
AUTUMN COLORS
Pristine serenity, branches now naked
Leaves like clothes shed of pure variety
Many a painter now clothes his canvas
With the patterns beholding shades majestic
All seem to be enchanted; mystic
Their crusade all the more musical
23rd AUGUST 2012
NEETHU ROY
AUTUMN, FALL COLORS
Copyright © Neethu Roy | Year Posted 2012
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Neethu Roy Poem
I can feel my 40 year old mind awake from slumber;
But these brown eyes stare back at me with a defiance
That I know to have belonged to a 14 year old me.
Consider this unsolicited advice from a doppelganger.
That pale white butterfly you tried to catch?
Chase it across brooks and fields. Chase it till it tires you.
Then come panting back home. Empty-handed.
There's a new rose bud in my garden today.
That tree with red beads and thorns you wanted to climb?
Climb it. Fall down. Scrape your elbow. Bleed.
Climb it nonetheless. Reach for those branches.
Memories of that view still leave me breathless.
Hate your brother for throwing you into the pond.
Cry. Throw up a fuss. Swear at him. Punch the air.
He'll stand up for you, everyday, everywhere.
Also he babysits the kids for free. So play nice.
Ask for the last piece of cake. Ask for more time.
Do not ever be ashamed to ask. It's only right.
Do not ever be hesitant to give. It's always kind.
This world is run by matchstick figures who trade.
Change your mind and your plans. Go to the movies.
Grab some caramel popcorn and settle down by yourself.
Use both armrests. Lean back and fall asleep. But do not snore.
I wish I could get rid of some of these traders.
Deface that wall. Spray paint on the floor.
Leave oily handprints on those pristine bricks.
It’s okay. Your father will ground you. But it's okay.
As an adult, I can't afford to do that anymore.
Find the latch and escape out of the window.
Get out. Take just a backpack and a pair of shoes.
Shoes that'll run miles chasing thunder and dandelions.
I can still smell the adventure and the salt.
Fall in love with the ocean and run into its waves.
Your mother will drag you back by your ears.
Refuse to speak to her for a day. Then go hug her.
It was never her fault. I love my kids just the same.
Wear out those skinny blue jeans. They fit you just fine.
Let your tears and treats stain them. Keep those stains.
They are bedtime stories your grandchildren will ask for.
Can't fit into anything skinny these days, dammit!
Ask people to shut up. Seek out your silence.
Pay no attention to the banter.
Your mistakes are yours to make and unmake.
Someone, someday will fall in love with your flaws.
So burn the fire and welcome the success.
But do not rest a crown too long on your head.
Always make space for another.
You'll make it here happy and hurt.
Copyright © Neethu Roy | Year Posted 2018
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