With a long, blank look
Cover the sky with one hand
I read her by book.
All she has to do is live her truth
Clairaudient certainly for she sees spirits.
She also has clairvoyance, clairsentience, claircognizance,
Her family is discouraging, disappointed, angry.
First they try to convince her that what she sees is not there.
That her feelings are wrong.
Telling her that her “knowing without knowing how she knows”
is an infraction against God.
But how can it be? Didn’t He create me? She argues.
They poke fun of her, laugh at her, jeer her.
They are her family, her parents, her siblings.
The ones she wanted to trust the most.
She shuts down over time.
Pretends to accept their religion over her spirituality
Their truth over her truth
Their ideals over her absolute knowing.
When she grows up she wanders off and finds other like-minded souls.
They uplift her, nurture her, love her.
Released by the others, she thrives.
Every night,
Down this road I walk,
Clairvoyant in perpetual insomnia,
Pencil etches of truth and fantasy,
Criss-cross my vision,
Fourteen cups of 5am coffee,
Still no closer to reality,
A solitary car passes me,
Like consciousness,
Through my net like mind,
It escapes me,
Streetlights of piteous constraint,
Revealing nothing more,
Yet revel in what they supposedly divulge,
Like pretentious picture frames
Puddles coat the road in truth,
Like any other mirror,
Mocking,
Criticising the insecure,
Haunting the Vain,
Yet my only friend,
Hides the false and only speaks fact
The joy of truth,
Revealed from a fragile mind,
Solitude.
the fire encircled me
n i was melting
away into a vanishing mass
burnt into ashes, then
wake up like like a phoenix later
i knew i slept like a baby
her persistent warmth,the
enthusiasm of the youth the
loving enquires n the innocent
bashfulness awoke me
up from the deep slumber
the sun has come on
shining brightly
on top of our heads,looking unto her
my eyes blurred
and the tears of joy rolled down the cheeks
i could feel her emotions ,her thoughts now
clairvoyance
The spirit hovers.
I am not interested in a
séance. Let me come face to face
with the book to share clean
or unclean thoughts.
Not able to print my deep
angst. A clash of cultures. I
will call the unprinted scream. The
dismembered limbs begin
a dance of unfolding
the hate.
It was a jig.
Of scaffoldings for the
peacocks to shed their wings.
Everyone was falling for the green-gold
to be embossed on the dust
cover of life.
Satish Verma
The antenna of my clairvoyance
Brings me your picture
I see, still I see
You at end of the bachelor’s pasture
On the threshold of Wedlock’s lustre
In dilemma, being Connector you intend
Or as a Divider you stand
Vision is, yeah, very much clear
As if you are on my retina’s layer
The antenna of my clairvoyance
Brings me your voice clear
I can, still I can
Hear the unspoken words
That your lip’s womb delivered
Sobbing as a lost baby, in a cave you are
Of bachelor stones and married pillars
Echo is, yeah, very much clear
As if you are drumming it in my ear
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hitendra Mehta
(Entry for Members Contest - Hearts Warmth by Sami Al-Khalili )