The Artists and The Rain

Oh! How I would like the stars, the lovers of passion, the creators of art
I sit and I read the words of the poets and the writers who never found happiness
Those miserable men with disenchanted wives, those promising women competing with each other all their lives
I think of those men who find happiness in a whiskey
All those women who no matter what they do
Are not taken seriously
I read the lyrical prose of the disillusioned man
The painful words of a sad, misunderstood woman
And all I can say is I hope that’s not me
The fear of being beautiful and damned haunts me
I try to do something else, something mundane, something less meaningful to me
I sit in crowded bars and I feel The silence, the silence screaming so loud
I’m surrounded by people
Yet I feel alone
It’s like I’m a bird singing some other song
People often tell me my notes are wrong
I keep thinking of those who were never found never heard, never seen, it’s almost like they didn’t exist
But they do to me
I don’t want to be
Like all those beautiful people, with beautiful words, singing about their beautiful world who were never heard
They are like shooting stars
They are here and now they have vanished
Just as easily as we breathe
The stories of disenchantment and glamour always enamour me
But just a story that’s what I want it to be
I could do something else with my life you see
But there’s nothing in conformity for me
I wanted to break away
And break away I did
I also broke apart for a little bit
That’s the price you have to pay to be a free bird
But now that all the melancholy is gone
I sit and I watch the rain
I feel a sense of renaissance
Its the damp leaves, no it’s the fresh air, maybe it’s the soft wind in my hair
Or it’s the petrichor
On the ground
So lucky I am to have found
Such a love, from the trees that surround me
The people around me
Yet I imagine myself like those beautiful and the damned
What will it take for me to feel
This is not all there is, this is not all there will be
I can be happy I can be free
I can be Like those birds
A soaring sparrow I’m meant to be
They were born free but so was I
So what is it that keeps me here tonight
In this grey state of mind? 

By Anshudha Garimella

Listen to this audio poem 😀