Poem: Weekend Tears
Crying is funny. I did not mean to sound cruel, but crying is like poetry. You do it to get ‘it’ out of your system.
“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair
Mea Culpa. I fell for the mood that Priya set and the weekend weather was dark and gloomy with a promise of rain — but like most events in our lives, it drizzled. Not what you expect, but just that titillating hope.
Sorry, this had to hit you on a Monday, but you can choose to read, but keep a set of wipes handy, just in case.
Poem: Weekend Tears
Here is the opening poem. As much as it is sad, it is too profound for us not to appreciate.
I reignited the tearful verses as a pang of self-pity drowned me — blame it on the gloomy weather.
A sharp pain in my chest
A prick of reality
Once first and then again
Can’t speak a word
Yet so much to tell
Another pinch of my heart
Pain like needles
Only I can speak in silent sighs
A constriction of my chest
Walls closing in
Even tears may expose me
Lest I shall cry
Like you wrote those words
Shards of glass
Grating my innards
Tearing me apart
What’s wrong that I ever did
That I have a broken bottle
Traveling all the way inside
The fine wine spilled on the floor
Golden opportunities wasted
Just like my whole life.~Ashok Subramanian © 2023
The struggle in our lives is real. We see others succeed, but we cannot do anything about it. The woes descend upon us like a burden. I wrote this piece…
I cry in silence
No more tears to spill
I have filled the oceans
With my salty tears
I see ships that sail away
Life goes on for others
For they have found their shores
But I am stuck under a rock
The weight of life is too heavy
Cry me a river
and let the tears flow away
So that even as I become empty
Finally, I shall be free.~Ashok Subramanian © 2023
Priya published this poem on her page but shared it with me as part of our exchange.
What about the silent tears in the shower? Haven’t we seen it in the movies? The waters of the showers hide the tears that flow.
I’ve cried in silence
beneath the harsh spray
of warm water in
neverending showers
The walls listened to me
as the water picked up my tears
and held them close
They dripped like blood
down the drain
I watched silently
as the silent screams for help
mixed with my tears
and simply dissapeared
Ask me, what do I want
I don’t think I know
I don’t think the tears
have a place to live anymore
They are just memories I hold,
pockets of sadness
that sometimes I need to write about~ Priya Patel © 2023
What about the tears and a walk in the rain? After all, it was drizzling here. I wrote this little one before I crashed.
I walk in the rain
To hide my tears
A camouflage in action
The water does wash away
The salt of life
The untold stories
Of our lost love.~Ashok Subramanian © 2023
Priya ended the series with this gem. Tears are gone, but memories stay.
Only the tears are washed away
the stories are still there
tucked away between the
satiny folds of our memories
I’m holding them
flipping the pages now and then
smiling at the sunsets
where everything was forgotten
but the two of us~ Priya Patel © 2023
As she extolls, the weekend may be gone, but the memory of quiet weekend tears in the form of poetry will remain in our minds for a long time.
~Ashok Subramanian
