Poetry Blog by sanjana shroff

Recent Comments

on change. (Thu, 13 Sep 2018 07:26 pm)

lynn hahn on photographs. (Sat, 25 Aug 2018 06:54 am)

Taylor Crowshaw on A string of stars. (Thu, 23 Aug 2018 05:26 pm)

Douglas MacGowan on A string of stars. (Wed, 22 Aug 2018 11:28 pm)

Big Sal on A string of stars. (Wed, 22 Aug 2018 09:04 pm)

on only with you (Wed, 22 Aug 2018 06:51 pm)

on In the beginning. (Wed, 22 Aug 2018 06:47 pm)

Douglas MacGowan on the wait. (Sun, 19 Aug 2018 09:22 pm)

Taylor Crowshaw on only with you (Sun, 19 Aug 2018 07:13 pm)

Taylor Crowshaw on the wait. (Sun, 19 Aug 2018 07:13 pm)

When we sit down for tea.

When we sit down for tea

you tell me

nothing makes you more happier

than knowing that you’re loved and

being able to share that love

and for a second I panic.

I panic like everyone else

when they come to something

that they don’t understand.

I panic because

the only love I’ve ever known

comes with a whole host of expectations

of who to love

of when to love

...

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Freedom.

Freedom, fundamentally ,

is hidden , unkown ,

at the core of being , self.

Beneath a clamor,

loud

disorienting

continually changing with time.

Conditions and expectations

morphing

experience and world views.

The changes so monumental that

the core is lost,

forgotten.

Defining and seeking freedom.

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Illusions.

Caught

in a world

transcending our own

In a realm where

the lines between illusions

and the tangible

blur

where a thousand suns shine but

seem as one

where the

all encompassing wind

hums through your hair

Reaching out to the farthest of hills

lost in

a realm where

the lines between illusions

and the tangible

blur

Oblivious to

the th...

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New beginnings.

When gray clouds blanket

heavy with rain,

with all the things

it has seen,

all the cheer and the joy,

all the pain and the loss,

eager to tell,

to whisper,

to cry,

the earth listens,

and soon they become one.

Green springs, buds bloom,

and the scent of turned earth,

show us,

the relentless undying hope

found in new beginnings.

And like this each year...

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change.

A while back,

life was not unlike a video

captured only in time lapses.

I stood rooted, stock still

while all around me

the hustle and bustle

of everyday life

was a blur.

I was falling

against walls that i couldn’t see

screaming in voices that

even I couldn’t hear.

I had lost sight of the big picture.

It took me a while

to understand that

in order to ke...

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photographs.

Photographs

drawn in light

some carefully posed

others carelessly captured,

In all its imperfections.

Frozen in time,

life’s fleeting moments

to hold and to share,

each sliver of memory,

so fragile.

To relive  

Glorious sunsets,

Effortless afternoons of uninhibited ease.

To remind us 

Of walking through storms,

Of things lost,

Slowly at first,

The...

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master evader.

In all of the collective worlds,

there is said to be,

a never ending ardour,

enthralling in its exuberance.

Immersing stretches of land and

dwelling in the depths of the sea.

Pouring out of voids,

spilling into crevices,

exploding in the air,

swift and unseen.

Among us.

In us.

Master evader. But,

in the silence of the universe,

when all is still,

look k...

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A string of stars.

entry picture

A string of stars,

He hung them high,

To lead you home.

A glance, to see them,

was enough.

In the darkness of the night,

A glance, suddenly,

seemed to be,

The most trying of all.

Too afraid to stumble.

Too afraid to fall.

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In the beginning.

In the beginning,

gold speckled with magic,

against the midnight blue,

made life.

 

The sun and the moon danced

and the shadows with them

the winds gave life

and the birds sang

water trailed crystal

reflections

dust gathered and

dreams were dreamt

gold speckled with magic.

 

In the end

Only they remained

Dust, gold, magic, and crystal

 

The ...

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the wait.

Days stack into weeks,

and months into years,

and one day you realize,

you need the sun to smile,

that only a stranger’s laugh

reminds you of

the roll of laughter

from the bottom of your stomach,

to your eyes.

You wait for that hundredth song

to make you want to dance,

playing it on repeat,

praying that,

you’ll find your next jive

sooner than the last.

...

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only with you

Discovering,

Crowded city sights,

Ordered grids, with their

Array of high-rises,

Where days merge into nights,

And nights into days,

Into an endless string of

Infectious, energetic momentum.

Only with you.

Discovering,

Sleepy little towns,

Quaint little book stores and

Coffee shops,

Neatly arranged,

Domes, spires, and

cobblestones,

Things that a fair...

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