Author: nehaallathur

Student studying business and minoring in community action and social change. This is a collection of my poetry and photography to express the experiences and observations of human life and the world around us.

The Poetry Snapshot: One Way Street

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I’m constantly under construction,
like a Michigan road.
Because it’s easier to bear a storm,
when you are always closed.

 Ann Arbor, Michigan

I’ve created so much distance from all the concrete I’ve mixed and poured,
It becomes easier for you to remember all the things I’ve ignored.

I envision us to someday
be a magnificent highway.
We’d span from urban cities to rural fields,
designed like a beautiful cliché.

But instead,
all our memories
now feel bittersweet.
Because for too long,
this friendship
has felt like a one way street.

_______________________________________________________________________

After having a few difficult conversations this month, this poem is a reminder to reach out to the people you care about. To tell them how much you value them. To be vulnerable in meaningful relationships.

The Poetry Snapshot: Side by Side

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We are a fusion of opposites.
The depth of our care is that of an ocean.
My consistent flow of life is sliced
by your ebbs of chaos and energy,
but we find treasure from what washes ashore.

Rattlesnake Hike, Issaquah, Washington

One, two, three.
One, two, three.
You dance to the beat of your mood.
One, two, three.
One, two, three.
I run to the pace of my environment.
But we still find harmony in our steps.

You are the golden honey from the morning sun.
And I am the silver reflection of the midnight moon.
We provide night and day on our own,
but at dawn and dusk we paint the sky together.

We are a fusion of opposites.
But I smile,
knowing that we still walk together.
Side by side.

– Happy birthday, Terza

 

The Poetry Snapshot: Another Corner of the Bedroom

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I walk into my bedroom tonight.
Like second nature after a long, busy day,
I get up to turn off the light
and scroll my time and confidence away.

But the fan on the ceiling distracts me.
The blades create a patterned shadow on the walls
and the breeze touches my face lightly.
Have I not felt this before?

And then I am bothered by the crooked lamp on the table.
A soft buzz emanates from the fluorescent static
and it stands there mocking me with its instability.
Have I not seen this before?

Finally my eyes wander over to a marathon medal.
The shiny bronze engraving hangs on a white and blue ribbon
and makes a systematic click every so often.
Have I not heard this before?

 Source: One Point Perspective Drawings

I get up to turn off the light,
Like second nature, I assume.
But as I sit on the floor
in another corner of the room,
I remember this is not home.

The Poetry Snapshot: I am a Runner

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I am a runner.
I am proud.

I run up mountains.
I run through the night.
I run in the snow.
I run past finish lines.

And then I keep running.

    Detroit Free Press Half Marathon 2019

I run from my feelings.
Growing up to be strong
has made me afraid of my emotions.
So I run.

I run from my insecurities.
Years of being complimented on false confidence
has made me lock up my real anxieties.
So I run.

I run from intimacy.
Losing the people I open up to
has taught me to never let my guard down.
So I run.

Running.
A form of strength,
I manage to turn into my weakness.

I am a runner.
I am not proud.

The Poetry Snapshot: An Interlude of Solitude

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Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, Michigan

There is a stillness in solitude that scares people.
It’s in the silence of your voice,
because your thoughts speak for itself.
Your mind starts to wander;
to places you have forgotten,
and spaces you always get lost in.

There is a stillness in solitude that scares people.
It’s in the safety of human connection.
The warmth of a hug and the love in a kiss,
that no one wants to let go of.
It’s a feeling that makes you reminiscent,
of an embrace and the loss of innocence.

There is a stillness in solitude that scares people.
It’s in the songs that bring you back to your childhood.
When you close your eyes and feel the same emotions
after the hundredth time you listen to it.
A melody from that drive with your friends,
and a beat worth dancing till the weekend ends.

There is a stillness in solitude that scares people.
It’s in the stories you have collected,
that you have no one to share with.
The experiences you wish to tell others,
so you can relive your happy moments,
give back a praise worth notice,
and forgive with sincere condolence.

There is a stillness in solitude that scares people.

The Poetry Snapshot: The Lotus

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Chaos is grasping for water when you’re drowning,
but only swallowing muddy water.
It feeds off this fear and thrives in uncertainty.

Lotus by Maria Venardis 

You stand by the edge,
looking out at the pond, patiently.
Today is when the lotus begins to bloom.
The only flower to bloom petal by petal.
Like the consistency of flowering,
you like predicting the future
and staying on track.

A large lily pad is by your feet.
You pay attention to it,
but keep your distance.
And then a Child steps on.
Fearlessly and effortlessly,
without a second thought.
For a moment, this Child was God.

The Child looks up directly at you,
not with any sense of urgency,
but as if warning you about what comes next.
Because God cannot be blindsided.
The Child dances off the water lily,
and you are still caught off guard.

Trying to look past your concentrated fear of chaos
you jump into the pond for rescue.
But your disarray only drags you further down.
Even in the muddiest of waters,
a lotus finds the graceful power to blossom.

You watch the Child flow through this chaos;
unbothered and elegantly just like the lotus,
and you are rescued.