March 19th, 2013

Sabu Francis

Closed Minds

My shelves don't have shutters;
books lay unbound, unfettered
They wander about the house
meaning beyond their covers

the guitar is not in its case:
it lay in the disarray
deep inside it, a tune;
struggling to come over

even the window is open:
bringing not just the light
but sparkling dust mites
tracking seconds, hours

Yet they say I am closed
Biased, opinionated, broken
For I am not like others
Keeping my stuff all so open
Sabu Francis

One Step Behind

As we walked silently
on the evening beach

A thought occurred to me

here were two males
both working furiously:

the sea caressing the shore
calming Mother Earth,
the land,
crushing all stones
into fine sand

And there I was,
a restless soul
softening rough spots
so she may walk on
the sands of our times

But all she saw
was the angry glow
of the sunset on the sea
Which reflected
a glint of regret
as she paused,
and looked at me
struggling with my paunch

one step behind
Sabu Francis

Objects in the mirror

The drive was silent
The stares were straight
Lost in our thoughts

She thought we were late
She sat sad in one corner
I hunched on the wheel
She wanted to look better
For the evening meal
I tried telling her
You're still a steal
But my paunch's size
Didn't cut the deal
My car sped silently
Possibly wondering why
We humans always cry
At time passing by
It had even spelt out words,
words that she wouldn't hear:
"Objects in the mirror
are closer than they appear"