Uncut Poetry Sunil Bhandari

"He made love to me,
smooth as a colon,
and when he went down on me
my body waved like a tilde."
 
Secrecy is an aphrodisiac. As powerful as pursuit, it is often mistaken for ardour. It is by and of itself an indulgence. Its translation into a stronger emotion, into love, is a different genre of effort. Chekhov once memorably said “There’s a proper order for a woman to become a man’s friend. First she’s an acquaintance, then she’s a lover, and finally she becomes a good friend.”
 
Love then is a long distance run, and friendship a journey of a lifetime.
 
Far beyond the satisfaction of an ego to ‘get’ someone, is recognition and acceptance. Of giving the time to know someone so thoroughly that the things we fall in love with mesh seamlessly with what we don’t. Irritations become quirks become things we adore. Time spent together is finding meaning in life. And hiatuses are then filled with remembrance which then act as bridges. Till the next time.
 
My best friends never complain about not being in touch. If they do, they are still lovers and have not transcended to friendship, which in the holy trinity of relationships, is the highest form of coexistence. (☺️)
 
As I walk through the hundreds of relationships I have formed - online, physical, tangential, official, family - I have continually learnt how it is often our closest relations who suck the marrow out of the marginal happiness we exist within. And sometimes it is mere strangers who elevate us with their attention or life stories. I survive by being in a zen state. As a Buddhist sutra succinctly advises - “Sab anitya hai”. Everything passes.
 
Indeed.
 
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of how lovers tie themselves into knots  - 
Lovers as Witnesses
Coming to Your Side of the Bed
Tracing Shadows on Your Back

Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.

Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
True Summer Love by Musiclfiles
Contemplative Cinematic Trailer by Musiclfiles

This is a repeat of one of my more popular poems, republished with a hope of getting a new audience, who might have missed it. 
 
"There's always a road waiting
for one of the lovers to depart."

 
The saga of love is a play of light and shadow. There is incident, coincidence, an assemblage of adrenalin, a bellowing of blood, a singling out of songs, a resurgence of senses. Love arranges it's own arrivals, often as a storm, frequently as a story, most often as winter sun. It rearranges parts of our life, it splinters our days in ways that distance hurts -  the desire to be, see, touch, smell, immerse, borders on desperation.
 
For deep inside, every lover knows that embedded in the ecstasy of a love story is it's extinction. Sometimes as slow burn, sometimes as a turn on the road, generally as gentle drift, often as an exercise of getting lost.
 
And then the helplessness ensues. Compasses point towards the setting sun, the flowers coalesce into routine, the days stop beckoning, sunrises only show autumns. But it is as if it's preordained - just as love is as much a part of life as breathing, separation is it's conjoined twin.
 
Why does love wither? Where does it go when it's gone? Are there secret burial grounds for love, epitaph-less, unmarked? Is there a floating cemetery of feelings in heaven for lost love - a consideration for the hurt, commiseration for the haunted, a soul for the homeless?
 
Because the inevitability of drift is in love's DNA,  it's loss is in its definition, it's celebration is forever aforetime. But we accept its inevitable tragedy, because our life is governed by its presence, and gets its mojo from its promise.
 
The journey, in life, or love, then, is everything.
 


If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of poignant separations - 
Heartbreak
Lovers of Broken Mountains
Fallen Flowers
Find other magical things, like a lovely free chapbook of poems, and other resources here.
 
Uncut Poetry has started a new Podcast called Red River Sessions (on Spotify, iTunes, Pocket Casts, etc), where we will talk to published poets, about their poetry, their craft and what haunts them. It is brought to you by Red River, which is the premier independent publisher of poetry books, and Uncut Poetry. 
 
I am Sunil Bhandari.


 


I am a poet based out of India. My book of poetry 'Of Love and Other Abandonments' was an Amazon bestseller. My second book is 'Of Journeys & Other Ways to Get Lost'. Both are available on Amazon.
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.

Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -



Reaching The Sky  [Long Version] by Alexander NakaradaLink: https://filmmusic.io/song/6222-reaching-the-sky--long-versionLicense: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
 
 

When someone we love dies, everything changes. The normalcies of routine possibly give an outward sense of balance, but the turmoil inside resembles wreckage. We sink, wish to remain sunk, everything around us seems trivial - almost as if we can see through the artifice of the world, unable to tell everyone how they were missing out on the most important things in life, as they fought over the the insignificant, the trivial.
And as is our wont as good people - we remember the good and the rest is subsumed in a closed vault inside our soul.
 
And I wonder - what is ever normal?
 
And I wonder about this connect of love, the dependence, the care, the thought, the absolute faith.
 
Are we emotional limpets to love? Do we grow stunted in love? Is care just an euphemism for dependence? Is the gift of attention a form of smothering?
Is what we call love just an emotional crutch?
 
When someone we love passes on, we can see our worlds contract, we see ourselves stand diminished, and we can suddenly see with incredible clarity how much we are an accumulation of all that we’ve now lost. In a strange way, we know we’ve become representatives of who and what’s lost, the protector of the flame.
 
And then we realize how love is always a completion. We come as sketches and it’s who we love who fill us with the colours which make our lives iridescent, and us a 3D rendition of life itself.
 
We are lucky if our beings have overflowed with a loved one's presence, cantankerous and problematic as they might have been, because deep inside every such relationship is the kernel of care, the warmth of which fills our life - it burns when it breathes, it glows like a flame when it’s gone.
 

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of passing on  - 
What Do I Leave Behind?
The Final Goodbye (or why lovers decide to die together)
An Epitaph Made of Light & Air

Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.

Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -

The Long Travel to Terra Two by Kalak

A lot of what we are, the comfort of living, the beauty of how we view the world, is when we know we are cared for, and the ones closest to us are people we have implicit faith in.
 
To know that love is a thought away, that nothing will take away the presence of the person we care for  the most, is to know that the primary foundations on which our esteem, worth and respect lie on, is immutable and unmoving. And in a broad sense, it gives us permission to fly - or not - with the full knowledge that we will be saved and savoured irrespective of whether we succeed or we don’t.
 
Faith is potent force. Its presence, though amorphous, is what really makes life’s meaning tangible, as our relationships get cast in something which is akin to a permanent state of being. We are better because we know we are not alone. However much the physical distance from the ones we love.
 

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on distances between lovers - 
In the Drift We Will Find Our Certainties
Lost Atlas of Belonging
These Darned Long Distance Relationships

Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.

Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -

Summer Morning (full version) by Musiclfiles


 

So much of our life is a reaction. As if it is determined by someone else’s priorities and emotions and needs, and we become byproducts of their ambitions and needs.
 
It could be anybody - a father for whom we become the fulfillment of failed dreams, a lover whose hauntings of failed relationships find shelter in our quiet nooks, a brother who leans on us when he needs validation or unquestioning support. The list goes on.
 
And we act as obedient support systems - loyal, available, eager to help. Even when we know we are asking for trouble, even when we know it is not in our best interest, even when we know life has something else in store for us.
 
But we still become someone else’s agenda.
 
And we suffer for it. Because we get sucked into universes we did not want to be part of, but of which we become reluctant denizens. And our lives change.
 
And instead of making our own lives, with our own mistakes and compulsions and realisations and hurts and sinews and wounds, we become carriers of other people’s needs, bridges to other needs, derivatives of others dreams.
 
Till we build the courage to look inside ourselves and force ourselves to learn to say - no, no longer, no more.
 

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems which talk of the strange dilemmas of life - 
Adventures in Two Worlds
Things We Gather
I Like The Ordinary Life

Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.

Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -

Sleepers by Sascha Ende
Strange New Worlds by Sascha Ende

We are often given chances in life to go beyond ourselves. These could be random happenstances, things which only we notice, and which we may choose to ignore - or not. 
 
If we pay attention and choose to clutch at those moments and do something tiny, unwittingly we invite, if not the appreciation at least a nod, from the universe. Maybe nothing changes, maybe nobody notices, but here’s the thing - we change, in tiny degrees but enough to shift something inside us.
 
The quietness in this is important, the element of shy boldness is a prerequisite, the lack of noise is a given. We should do, we should move on.
 
So, what does this unheralded, unspoken of, often unnoticed, act do to us?
 
I think, apart from the loud gifts of DNA bestowed onto us, we are also a growth of things we do, an amalgam of all the traces left behind in us of the deeds we do stolidly or impulsively.  But something shifts inside us. Something tell us - we are better for it.
To be a good human being does not need headlines or acknowledgment, as it is sufficient in itself. And this goodness radiates out, and people who know nothing of it, also wonder and gravitate towards this basic element which shines through. Because this is a secret which nobody can see but everyone can sense. And makes people dip into their better selves.
 
The fire grows, as it were, with just a sense of the flame. And the world is a better place for it.
 

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on good deeds which fall on us like soft rain - 
A Legacy of Kindness
Maybe, a Little Kindness
Why We Should be Happy with Berry Jam on Table Edges

Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.

Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
 
The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -
Artemis by Sascha EndeFree download: https://filmmusic.io/song/6934-artemisLicense (CC BY 4.0): https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
&
String Impromptu Number 1 by Kevin Macleod