Holding on to her labels –
Ascribed and achieved statuses,
Meaning of life meant a google search.
‘I am’ is always there;
Who am I but?
2020, Deeya Nambiar
Category: Writing Poetry
There’s a song …
There’s a song in my head, and
Its music I picked ;
Flawlessly, guided mind.
I stepped on the stones by the river side and
Motioned into a dance move,
Waking sleeping energies into a ball,
A fire of emotional deluge.
The wind swirled to unknown rhythms as
My hands reached out to the unknown
Within, deep within
Body and Soul.
In my quiet island
Where silence prevailed,
Stillness watched into emptiness;
Time stood tapping.
My inner child took a
Twirl and smiled;
The song in my head played again.
2020, Deeya Nambiar
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Choice of selection?
They walked miles, miles on tarred roads and lone tracks sure, sure to reach homes, homes their family.
Many days; many days to crossing states, crossing with little food and sparse water.
Waters flow, connecting states, and flow through my state too.
I’m confined within the walls of a house,
House that let me freedom, freedom of choice and choice of selection;
Drinking water to quench thirst, and quenching the pleasure of favourite coffee.
Where have they vanished, or should I assume News changed course, course of newness in old stories?
2020, Deeya Nambiar
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Who has answers
Who has answers to the superficiality
Superfluous enquiry of life?
Mind musing,
The scribbles of journal.
Reside in shadow work
Fleeting thoughts of unfamiliar.
Do I hold the answers deep within to
The statement, mind an illusion?
2020, Deeya Nambiar
Variety is the Spice of Life 