Tag Archives: passionate love

That´s who you’ll be

When I cry a tear, you

Will be my laughter

That´s who you´ll be

 

When I´m not too well

You´ll be my doctor

That´s who you´ll be

 

When I´m all tied up

You´ll be my undoing

That´s who you´ll be

 

When I´m coming on strong

You´ll be my satisfaction

That´s who you´ll be

 

When I am hot and worn

You´ll be my cool reprieve

That´s who you´ll be

 

And whatever you are is where

I will meet you because

You will always be

The other half of me

 

Written as a song on 18thApril 2016

Heart Strings

Heart Strings

 

What is this force that strings my heart

coaxes, plucks and splits apart

melts my body´s wall of ice

the spell is conjured

I am enticed

 

Loves slow hand seducing me

to the point of no return

to the depths of heaven

where deep desire,

inside me burns

 

An urge to surrender to the silent ache

a cry to come, claim and take

things slow, no, lets not rush

taste the tease

like a teenage crush

 

Is there a treasure there for me?

a price to pay, a gift for free?

who´s to know, who can tell

let´s deep dive into

this wishing well.

 

Is this a duet or a dance of fools?

pivot, pull and ponder days

full of wonder, our love imbues

Mixing the murky pool

waters of me and you.

 

No strings, no strings, except the ones he plays.

 

Written on 27th July 2018

 

Forlorn

 

Did I lose you somewhere
Between the hyacinth and the ribbons
The pleats and folds of my adult drape?

I know you still wait for me, my moon
As the night flutters, the unfailing rose
Drunk with solitude and honeyed longing.

I breathe shallow and deep, my eyes
Swept away by stardust, I am alone
Your milk, eager and firm, waits for me
At the shore of the night.

Between my trembling lips and voice,
Your song hides in the fugitive wind,
Slender and silent, you walk away,
Barefoot, soaking in the night’s last ashes.

Did I call you, my white hills
Breaking, sinking at the wake of dawn?
I return to the day, dust blown
Crushing sand beneath my feet,

You have sliced me to pieces,
I move, unsure, forlorn, in spirals
Of smoke as I call you out
My moorings trapped in the day, dying.

Lopa Banerjee. Written in February 2015

Dreaming: The Resurrection

 

The Times Square in your words of lilting love,

A happy coronation, giving a home to your candle-lit promises,

A lustrous, magical night on the New Year’s Eve, with its winged flight.

The Caribbean cruise, our bodies undulating in the sensual calling

Of the ocean, the mirrored reflections of us, coiled, smothering.

Deep into the sea, in the turquoise blue waves,

Your hungering touch races, sobers down, and whispers:

“Would you love me, all your life, little mermaid?”

 

Resting on my new bridal breasts, deepest sighs of pain

Slide down to the waters, holding me for moments,

Strumming their unsaid words like fingertips dancing, playing,

I feel the ripples of their fingers, emaciated, drowning.

Fingers that had wrote a world for long forsaken love stories,

Drift ashore. I open my mouth and moan, in an island of sanctioned love.

 

And yet, the world around us, a carnival of trampled love,

Our longings, crackling with unfinished songs,

We forget the impending warranty of our mortality.

In the ephemeral twilight of the island,

The conch shell blows, awakens, unleashes and conjoins

Copulated souls. The symphony of a new, unknown raaga

Plays on, “na jayate na mriyate va kadaachin, naa yam bhutwa  bhavitya

Na hanyate hanyamaane shareere”……

The soul that is unperishable, immortal, old, eternal,

Undefined by birth or death, becomes a trembling, raging river of love.

The newly discovered terrain may or may not be

The bustling Times Square, the iconic Eifel Tower,

Or the mighty, cascading richness of the Niagara. But it sure is

The smoldering hearth of the bride who takes you in,

Throws herself with you in the boundless waters, melts with you

In the wild spring’s song, as you whisper to her:

“Would you love me all your life, little mermaid?”

 

The dream is but a commonplace one, collapses and resurfaces

In every wake of dawn, a corpse washed out of its last remnants of blood,

As it calls us, in a chilled world of grey, to take in its scattered ashes.

We breathe in and breathe out the promises that blossomed,

Weaved memories in pieces, wilted and died, to rise from their ashes,

Phoenix-like, spreading across the spring canvas.

“Ajo nityo saswatohayang puraane/Na hanyate hanyamaane shareere”.

The soul that is unperishable, immortal, old, eternal,

Undefined by birth or death, chases you in curved lines

Of the landscape of this life, dances barefoot,

To the silken music of death. In the horizon beyond,

Another life, surges, ripples in light, dreams,

In the shared tapestry where we have woven our love.

 

Lopa Banerjee. December 9, 2014

 

Footnotes: A sequel of my other love poem ‘The Drunken Lovers’ Song’, which I had posted here in October 2014.