Stitching the words together
to write a poem on the
solely memories which is now
limited and caged to the photographs..

-

कपड़े सिल रही थी
याद आया रिश्तों कि सिलाई भी मजबूत करनी है वक़्त के धागे से

-

Stitching dreams--
One went unravelled.
Another was broken.
Most were entangled--
Got lost, in the process.
Still, I have the strings.
I have several needles--
Stitching, stitching
More dreams.

-

ज़ख्म इतना गहरा बना
लहू रुकने का नाम कहां,
रक्त की फुहार जो ज़ोर से निकली,
मटमैली दीवारें भी लाल पड़ी,
आंखे चूंध्याई, हाथ में सिलाई,
टांको से करने लगी वो कढ़ाई,
नोक लगते जो टीस लगी,
दिल को जोड़े, बैठी घबराई,
कच्चे धागों से करी बुनाई,
कैसी हिम्मत उसने बनाई।।

- पूजा गौतम

-

Birth opened the door
Death followed her in
Death hid himself away,
Only to wake up at night
Just to stroke Birth's hair,
As she sleeps peacefully.

Death disappears at dawn,
Leaving his beloved Birth.
He walks around taking away
those who left their bodies,
Taking their souls back to
the factory up in the skies,
stitching them into new bodies.

Tired, Death comes home,
To catch some sleep before
that lovely dinner with Birth,
Don't be surprised hearing this.
After all, they're always in love,
Yet, they get married each day.
Their love really is eternal,
why else would they keep meeting?

-

Stitching her heart
Penning her emotions
Reshaping her dreams
Scripting her life
She redefined herself...!!

-

•if trusting was as easy as stitching•

Trust stands like an orphan, in the corner
of my room, like a half crescent moon,
awaiting for a selenophile to finish the orb,
or like a blanket, waiting to be folded, like
a model of origami. Auburn shades, magenta
and pinks, unfurled in somatic disorders,
trust with too many knots and torn and an
overflowing soliloquy search a stitch.

•captioned•

-

Stitching is far
easier than
mending.

-

An unhealing heart I owned,
which had been torn and sewed
time and time again.
Never healing, Never stopped hurting.

You too wanted me to open up.
I did, like always, one stitch at a time.
Took a full moon to lay it open beside you.
The opening up did hurt,
but the after felt nice.

You saw the hollow inside,
filled it a little with yours,
filled yours a little with mine.
All calm, devine and warm.
We then stitched up eachothers,
both carefully, gently and delicately.

The healing is happening faster than ever
and it doesn't even hurt.
I can feel the wounds turn into scars
and the scars disappear.

I just hope
you don't want to rip it open
and unfill it later,
just like the hundred others had done before.
Taking away more than what you gave,
and leaving me with lesser than what I had.

-

She abhor stitching.
But adore to sew button on his shirt.

-