Thorns in my Throat- A Poem in Progress

Digging up old treasures is a certain high. Another dive and I come up with a half crumpled note dated 2007. I clearly remember the crazy day at work when I wrote this, exasperated. You'll know why I celebrate the thrill of of my own randomness today. I'm tempted to add more to it each time I read it. This one surely is a poem in progress!

I got thorns in my throat.
Nomad syrup? I spot promote.

Try to exercise but my mind.

It's working on its own design.

Someday this drum will stop to roll.

Pick me up- like ramen from a bowl.
I can fix this. There's no doubt.
A teapot with a broken spout.

Swim through this day in misery.
With a blue jar of green tea.
I want it to rain. Clear all, lest my panes re-frame.
Drizzle now now. Soothe my thorny throat again.

© Snigdha Manchanda Binjola

Image: Big thanks to http://www.etsy.com/shop/luminousphotographer

Reaching Out

This morning had me organizing my inbox when I found this poem I had written in October 2006. This happens very often when I look through my old stuff- look for something and you find something else. Fortunately this one had me feeling like a trophy winner!

I don't remember the exact mood or moment when I must have written this...but it does reflect some shades of fear. Fear of something afar, fear of something slipping away. Today I smile, and as everything surrounding this poem continues to evade me, I wonder if I made the journey to what, at that time, seemed- so far away.

Reaching Out


I can see my rainbow even in the dark

But today I fear i might not reach that far

Its far..so far away

I'm trying to be the face in the mirror
Who knew this part would be the toughest to play

I dig myself to pour me out

To cast myself in the earthly ways

But today i fear i might not reach that far

Its far...so far away

Two paths, too near, to wash out my fear,

To take me away from a cage of peers,

Bring in some tears to fill in my heart

Reach out to those who will now part

But today I fear I might not reach that far

Its far...so far away

© Snigdha Manchanda Binjola

The Quiet World

Do you remember what were the first one hundred and sixty-seven words you spoke today?

The Quiet World – Jeffrey McDaniel

In an effort to get people to look

into each other’s eyes more,

and also to appease the mutes,

the government has decided

to allot each person exactly one hundred

and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear

without saying hello. In the restaurant

I point at chicken noodle soup.

I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,

proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.

I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond,

I know she’s used up all her words,

so I slowly whisper I love you

thirty-two and a third times.

After that, we just sit on the line

and listen to each other breathe.

Even I don't remember but I do wish I could recollect....and you?