Auto pilot

Let there be soundlessness
Let there be silence of the pin drop kind
Let there be spaces filled with vacuum
Let there be a single white cloud hanging without rain on the horizon.

Conversations stuck in people's throat
Concentration on mindless games & chores
Covering every bit of time people have
Not even a gap, a slit, a crack
There's a lot on the autopilot's plate.

Reflection

June '12

dry pastels, ink

oil

texture, oil, ink

ink, glass colours

Before dawn ramblings

7th January '11

coming back
is desired
coming back
isn't easy
coming back
pains.

I write to you in verse
situation of my heart
which has a lot of love to give
but, there's a but in between.

Memories they play these games
take you back, again and again.
a simple day, some hours,
some conversations, some exploration..
a friendship we embarked
but we never saw where we really arrived
before parting.