Skip to main content

Blog marathon time again. Post 1 -A poem.

This isn't an April Fools prank. Starting today, I am joining in here. (You have to post everyday for a month--thats all you have to do. You can join me and hundreds of others all around the world if you want to. Click on the link for details).

My post for today is a poem. I promise you all my posts will not be sad, but my poetry is mostly dark, full of pain, irony and is a silent scream. A few of my poems have been published. You can click here if you want to read more of my poetry.

Here goes my first post:

Broken shard


The invisible shard
And sometimes you discover
The shards you’re trying
To stick back together
Do not fit anymore
Not in the same way they used to
There is a piece missing
Lost forever, destroyed
But you unaware
keep trying
Over and over
Till your knuckles bleed
Along with your heart
Numb with pain
You hide
Behind a big wide smile
All the while
Secretly still searching
For the missing shard
Not knowing it has cut deep
It is invisible
And it is much too late now.


© 2011 Preeti Shenoy

For more poems click here. Some poems have already appeared in print. Kindly do not reproduce without permission.
 



Comments

  1. //There is a piece missing
    Lost forever, destroyed
    But you unaware//

    Very true.

    ReplyDelete
  2. What a poem !! fabulous. so touchy :) Loved it. And he picture you have used it connected with it so nicely.

    Nice to read your blog after a long time. It's always been nice to visit your blog.

    ReplyDelete
  3. What lovely readers I have! I post and even before I can turn I aleady have two lovely comments.Thanks a lot Vipul and Sundari. Appreciation does matter to a blogger/writer/author, you know :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Beautiful...........
    Very touching

    ReplyDelete
  5. Too good Preeti. Something everyone can relate to with one or the other sad relationships in their life. loved it in a sad way!

    ReplyDelete
  6. This is one of the most beautiful poems I have read from you.
    You put to words exactly what i was feeling today (though nice things happened afterwards and left me feeling better :))

    good luck with NaBoPloMo again :)
    Looking forward to it!

    ReplyDelete
  7. That is really painful. Good one!

    ReplyDelete
  8. I am so happy and excited to know that we can hear you every day..will see this space every day now :)

    ReplyDelete
  9. Dard se bharpoor :) phir bhi pasand aayi yeh kavita!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Shachi: Shukriya :)

    weourlife: Thanks for a fab compliment in wanting to read me every day! :)

    Shail:Coming from you, it means a lot.Thanks!

    Sucheta:Jump in!

    Prathima:Thanks :)

    Horizon:Thanks a lot

    ReplyDelete
  11. My!!! What a post... wonderfully penned... very true and 't strikes a chord... my love for words is becomin inexplicable by the day... am no artist or writer... but if I am in love with English as a language, I sure am in love with all of you wonderful writers... Keep em comin... I even wrote a post on this sudden love of mine -

    http://sbonlifensuch.wordpress.com/2010/09/19/this-is-to-you-my-love/ -- as always thanks to all you bloggers! :) Good luck on the blogathon...

    ReplyDelete
  12. a poignant read...good one!
    and it would be a treat to read something from you everyday...looking fwd!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Secretly still searching
    For the missing shard
    Not knowing it has cut deep


    i think this is one of the best poems you have written preeti! so beautiful in its simplicity...!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks for stopping by. I really appreciate your leaving a comment! Okay--I appreciate your leaving a comment if you have something nice to say ;-)

Popular posts from this blog

Ten things nobody told you about being an author

1. People you don't know will love you such a lot.





2. People you don't know will hate you.





3. You will travel to places you never dreamt you could go.





4.The places you travel to, will include those places inside your head you never want to visit.





5.People will mistakenly think something you write is about them.





6. You will offend people.





7.You will lose friends.





8. You will discover that the friends you lost weren't really friends in the first place.





9.You will  never have bad experiences. They just turn into writing ideas.




10. You will become a curious observer of the human race. (oh wait! You already were!)



______________________________
Buy my latest book: http://preeti.io/a100lf
Check out the reviews!

Lots of me! An update of what I have been upto, the last two weeks.

Over the last two weeks, I have spent more time in planes, airports, cars and hotel rooms than I have at home. To say that it has been awfully hectic would understating it.
I have been travelling. A LOT. Those of you who follow my Instagram feed, would  know that I had been to Mumbai, Delhi and Jammu over the last two weeks.

In Mumbai, I had an interview with Sonali Bendre. She runs a book club called Sonali's Book Club. They pick up a book, read it, and then discuss it. I was overjoyed that she found my book fascinating. We had an in-depth conversation about the book. It was easily one of the best interviews i have had.
It was live on Facebook as well as Instagram.
In case you missed it, do watch it below:





I also had a live interaction with Midday, and FirstPost.
That was fun as well. You can watch the Firstpost one below:




In Delhi, I had a lovely interaction with InUth. They asked me if I like Durjoy or Ravinder. You can see what i answered in the below video :)


I also had se…

A Hundred Little Flames - Chapter 1

There were two completely unrelated incidents that happened on Sunday, which would change Ayan’s life forever.

1. He attended an office party thrown by his boss in a swanky uptown pub in Pune.
2.More than a thousand miles away, in a small village in Kerala, not identifiable by Google Maps, his grandfather had a fall.

On Monday morning, unaware of anything but the clock on his computer ticking, Ayan took a sip of the horrendous office tea with over-boiled tea leaves, too much milk and sugar. He had only forty-five minutes left before the meeting was to begin. Beads of perspiration trickled down his forehead into his eye, and he blinked. His brow furrowed, he sat hunched, with an ache in his neck, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He felt as though somebody was raining blows inside his head. His throat was parched despite the tea, and now his stomach began to feel queasy as well.
He regretted having that fourth tequila last night. But Randhir had insisted. You can hardly…