broken womb of thoughts

Onto the streets at night.

2011-12-30T06:12:00.000-08:00

Sleep eludes me
For it too knows
That am destined to be orphaned at night.

A cacophony of his deep slumber
Lies unnoticed at the corner of the bed
Heaped as if to show its prowess
But when everything has deluded you
You no longer notice such wile ironies
That life casually assaults you with.

If the night was a book
I would be the ruffling of pages
In the tattered autumn wind
But I no longer
See such poetry.

For it doesn’t matter
Nothing does

When you await the for the night to end
So that your eyes can close
On the glory that morning shells out on you
Like the piety of giver
Onto a leper waiting to die in the streets.

Nothing matters when you realise
that your nights are cursed to be
Orphaned
Not by choice
But by existence.

I exist

2011-06-15T14:28:00.000-07:00

Unused

Untouched

Unseen

My muse lies sulking in the corner
as I the artist had taken onto courtly robes
and march this facade of lies
that I webbed across my eyes to exist

I exist

But gone are the days
I knew how to live

gone are the days
I knew how i could.

If only
I decide to live

Eulogy

2011-05-14T01:42:00.000-07:00

To the cemetery of kisses
I gave up my breath.

To a blind man's sight
I gave away all my beauty.

To the walls tonight
I speak.
For now its too late
to be.
For now its too late
to be me.

2011-05-09T20:34:00.000-07:00

Pretensions do not last
For alas we see the light
But behold when we see ourselves
we can only see the fright.

The holes that penetrate your soul
pierce through my bosom.
Your pain is a resonance
of our entwined sorrow.

With time out of pace,
and us tired of the race.
Let the darkness draw nearer
For we no longer have time to fear
Let us waste out last laugh,
Let us die without a tear.

So hold me one last time
and breathe white lies
into my awaiting ear.

For when its my time,
It is your voice I ache to hear.

It is not difficult to be alone, It is difficult to be left alone.

2011-04-05T01:10:00.000-07:00

“Normal” I heard her scream. “normal! I just need to be normal”
As her haggard hair scattered upon the deep brown of the sturdy old chair as she rocked on it nonchalantly. The arcs of the chair making her sway gently as he kept her eyes to the ceiling as if looking the spider webs that had been weaved upon her plantation style fan.

“Normal” she stuttered again. “ that’s what he wants! I know it.”

I heard her rant. But in my heart there was neither the sympathy nor the wrath for all she has seen, for both of us knew that if she was anything it that she wasn’t just normal.

Zaida had never been plain. She never could have. Even if she tried hard to like during school coyly hiding behind the braids but that sparkle of her eye never could hide. And her modesty just threw the spotlight on everything she wanted to hide. The silent twinkle of brilliance.

“Do you remember?” I would often ask her, “do you remember how we used to cycle to school again. The wheels turning round and round upon the dusty unwinding roads of our hometown? How mad your driver used to get when you told him to follow us on his own?” and she would laugh and talk more about her drivers excruciatingly long nose, while I swallowed the real words I wanted to say to her.

“ I need to loose all of this,” she said rocking more vigorously. “I need to become simple and quiet and docile. A good wife” she said biting her lip.

I looked at her now. Her grey hair tousling the rocking chair.

What would I not give to take her in my arms and tell her she was fine? But who was I to do it. Did I even deserve to see that forbidden spark in her eye? No, I was not. But nothing could ever stop me from being mesmerised by it even now.

Her dry lips cracked a droplet of blood smeared upon her once tender lips. She got out of the chair bundling her hair up like the housewives do, failing miserably as it kept falling out into flowing river of grey.

“Damn it. Look at me Sam, I can even get my hair right. May be if I do and I clean up this house,” she slipped into another hypnotic trance with her eyes locked onto the cobwebs. “may be then it will all work. Don’t you think so?”

I nodded, watching her foot as the walked up and down the dusty carpet. Her foot paced faster. I knew it was near but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. It was all done and it was for the good.

“May be I should have given up on make up long ago, may be never had worn it. And all those parties. I thought it made him happy I really did.” She chanted as she began walking in circles. The old room must have looked like blur of every shade of brown. It must have been a swamp of a colour at the rate she was walking around it.

“this isn’t right. This isn’t. I need to sit down” she said as she continued to walk. I wanted to get up and hold her hand and guide her to the chair, but I didn’t. She deserved better I thought.

When we climbed trees as children in old house she often used to help me up. I used to be so clumsy that I was almost sure I would bring her down with, and more often I did. With her gentle glass frame landing upon mine and her laughter as we did. “you are such a clumsy toad” she would say pointing at my spectacles that would be uncomfortably resting my ear and my head often cracked. Amused by the charm of my clumsiness I would blush to myself feeling her frame on my body as she ran away waiting to be chased by me.

Then she sat down on the rocking chair still murmering of all the things she could have done right.

I could no longer help myself. I walked up and sat down on the carpet next to her, pulled out my case and gave her what she deserved.

As her pupils shrunk and stopped moving. I held her cold hand and whispered into her deaf ear, “He wasn’t worth you zaida. He just wasn’t.”

Einmal ist Keinmal

2011-04-04T00:39:00.000-07:00

Tears flowed upon a brown cheek. It dripped like raindrops from a tin roof onto her crumpled yellow kurta.

“Man or no man it doesn’t really matter” she muttered to herself. “ At the end of the day all we are all alone”, she mouthed remembering her widowed aunt who once said it just a few days before she hung herself from a yellow ceiling fan in her ancestral house. While her parents and grandparents remembered the tragedy of the suicide, she held on to the last words she heard her withered aunt say.

At the end of the day we are all alone.

She was eccentric, they would often say to her. Not good for a family life. But what a family or a life truly meant was a question she silently knew well enough not to ask her parents.

It did not matter to her if anyone cared for a long time. Being a neglected child does that to you. Makes you build an imaginary fortress for yourself where you can be safe and isolate yourself from love lest you should be forgotten sooner or later and left mourning for the loss which never existed.

May be some people are better off that way. May be she was too.

As she picked upon the things from the house she once called home, pictures stuck with fruit shaped magnets on the fridge, a lamp she made out of lace and a wire frame, a torn piece of her old uniform she used to wipe the kitchen top with, she stumbled upon it.

There it was among the broken vase and glass pieces, a crumpled picture of her perfect family which she drew when she was 8. In the altercation of the night before she had crumpled it and thrown it on his face. She dint open it. She just held it to herself as if accepting what it meant. She could no longer hold back. She closed her eyes, may be her eyelids too were tired.

There she was 8 again in art class where every child in the school drew pictures of their father and mother and them in between smiling and holding hands. She was stuck staring at the paper. Then risking the thought of her teacher spotting her idle she let her hands wander into the crayon box. Red, yellow, orange, black, her hands fumbled with the different colours as her mind fumbled with what she was to call a family. She straightened herself.

Wiping the tears off her cheek, she stretched the crumpled drawing however neat she could make it. Enough she cajoled herself. She taped it on top of her travel bag.

It was a scribble of a girl in blue all alone.

The travel bag rolled by. So did she.

A fortress was again built and in it she lived all alone.

All alone.

The breath after the rain.

2010-12-09T11:13:00.000-08:00

In cruel times
Met by the lone ghost
Of solitude,
I firmly held your hand

In the rains of the future
It washed away to be just a shadow
I turn back,
I do not fear nor follow

For I know now what
The rain has washed away.

It is not you I have forgotten

Dreams have left me
So has the joy of a good nights sleep

And all that remains is just the
Cold suffering of erasing
Everything I was before

I am not a clean slate

I am not a naked new born

I just stained rag washed
Tad too many times

Waiting to be woken up
When sleep has deserted me.

And the clock ticked by...

2010-12-05T04:27:00.000-08:00

It’s like you are trapped. Like the four walls have closed you in. Eating you from the inside. The walls are not here. No body is.

You are.

Just by yourself watching the clock tick by.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock … bam

There it is.

Nothing. Just the numb sound of the clock ticking and here we are watching

No television with reality show.

No life passing you by.

No telephones offering you a credit card.

No whore on the filthy fungi filled mattress of a cheap motel.

Just you.

Just you in the middle nowhere. Some where. Anywhere.

Why me? You could ask. But after the initial years you are too numb to even ask.

Its just matter of time they say, and the clock ticks by.

You can turn around. You aren’t going to find anything anyway.

Its just the same.

A cynical man talking to himself within the walls that are eating him from the inside.

Jack the Rabbit they used to call him. He had fluffy gingerly hair and light eyes. May be his mother fornicated with a firaang they whispered behind his head. But he heard them alright. He always did.

One late night out side an obscure drunken bar he met her.

She was haggard. She wore red lipstick and he needed company.

So it happened. In a filthy motel room where the light kept flickering. It was there he found out.

He was being eaten out alive.

Day in and day out the clock went tick tock tick tock… inside his head the walls became clearer.

The credit card companies kept calling.

The television blared out the reality show that turned the new model into a slut.

And the walls cornered him inch by inch scratching their nails on the chalkboard of his head. He shuddered at the sound of her nails. Like a lunatic staring and screaming at nothing. He wanted to scream inside. He cried. He screamed. He ran. He banged himself against the walls.

Until there was nothing left to do.

He was numb.

Not dead but numb. On a wheelchair staring at the clock go tick tock tick tock in the state asylum.

Blissful as he watched the clock tick by.

Tick tock tick tock.

A lie

2010-09-18T12:54:00.000-07:00

Turn around
Look into my eyes

The lines on your
Face have thinned down
So have those
Which once lined the clouds
In my sky

I await to breathe again

All you need to do
Is tell another little white lie.

Reflection and I

2010-06-20T12:13:00.001-07:00

In a world where the beginning
And the end are a blur.

You and I stand here
Waiting to be worshipped
By each other’s desperate will
To be known as the real one.

How will we ever face the truth
That in this blur you and I
Are but two souls frightened
Of loosing oneself
That we even refuse to see how
illusory we really are!

2010-01-23T16:53:00.000-08:00

Lips part

There was music

The muse nowhere to be seen
a lone poet found his unused pen

your footsteps touched the ground

Butterflies came alive

did you hear
the earthquake here
had arrived?

The Concubine's song

2009-11-07T15:02:00.001-08:00

Between us
There is neither
The void of a lusty night
Nor the fulfillment
Of a love filled kiss

Yet in this lost
Moment when you
Sleep upon my bosom
Curled child like
I wish in the debris
Of what was once
My heart

I could decide
If I want to stay
Or to leave.

Flutter

2009-07-28T00:31:00.000-07:00

With the monsoon clouds
tucked behind your ear,
piling away more that await
to see themeslves in your eyes,
You sit there not knowing
if I still breathe.

And I,
the one who kisses
the ground your breath touches
still long for the day
you shall see in the corner of your eye,
what a mere flutter does to me...

Monsoon windings.

2009-07-07T20:46:00.000-07:00

As the children squabbled over the marbles
That squeaked the now broken sunlight.
Hiding behind the twinkle in the eye,
was what I called us.

Below a banyan, with its roots breathing a sigh.
where the wind kindled the tips, till it almost sneezed.
Was us. Another whimsical us.

Cluttered by children clambering
up and down in the wet sand
Leaving behind footprints like a flock of hen,
Was us.
The silent, resilient us.

But as the rain drops fell,
Birds onto their nests swelled
Where did you run away?
Leaving behind the banyan and its wet hair,
The dancing children and the monsoon fair,
Where did you run away?

Where?

Losing it

2009-03-20T18:26:00.000-07:00

I lost it
That which I never hoped I had
But in secrecy knew I did
I have lost it

And yes I feel empty
When the breeze tussles my hair
As they fall loose, disheveled
Like a cascade of mourning
Limbs of a obscure octopus
That now has taken over my mind
I feel occupied
By the emptiness
That haunts me.

At least then there was you
And your chai stains upon my desk
Where you left that cup every time.
At least then there was the ghost of you.

But even in this loneliness
I cannot remember
If it was you who took it away from me
Did you drag it by its hair
As it screamed and kicked like a child
Or did you simply hold its hand and guide
It through as it hesitantly waited by the doorstep
It was you wasn’t it?

And yes now am empty

And have been so,
Ever since your ghost had
Set me free.

Empty.

I remember

2009-01-18T03:56:00.001-08:00

Sometimes I see you in a tune
In flesh and blood
Like a musical note that gave birth
To the symphony of memories that
Once remembered how it felt to be touched.
I play the song again and again in my nights
I sing myself to sleep.

Sometimes a falling leaf reminds me
Of how you fingers gently
Tumbled upon my skin
And I like a idiot
In the middle of the night
Press my skin against them
Just to see if I still feel,
To see if it was you who brought sleep.

Sometimes the howling wind
Reminds me how your tears felt
Crushing against my breast
As you softly wept.
Sometimes I feel the autumn rain
Thrash against them,
Just to see if it feels like you.

But to tell you the truth
I have no use for you
As long as I have a tune, a leaf
Some autumn rain,
I would be happy
Just with the wad of things
That reminds me of you

Left Behind

2009-01-18T00:05:00.000-08:00

By the peeling paint I sat,
The rain water seeped through the old wall
Dripping like tears of the temple
That was left unnoticed to ruins by time
By the ruined temple where we once met
I decided to look for your mark.
The puddles have washed away your footsteps
The water too refuses to dry up
I even wanted to wait to dig up your footprint
Only to let a gravedigger steal it away from my hands
What’s a dead footprint anyway,
When I cant see them dance?
So I sat and cried another puddle to fill your empty grave.
When my footsteps left the ground
I hear yours ring a bell
From the locked church tower in the misty eyes of god
But what can a feet less cripple do
But hope that may be someday
Ill find wings in the passing wind
So that at least for a second
I could see your reflection sheen upon the ringing bell
And sigh to myself of what it was.

Fireflies

2008-10-30T04:59:00.000-07:00

You who infest the cities at night

With your endless fiery eyes,

Burning away into the cold streets of

The city which never sleeps.

You with lithe metallic sheen

Upon your back, blurring away

With your bustling flicker into the

Eyes of this wayward drunkard.

You! How could I fathom you?

For often when I slip away

From the city’s maddening day

And let myself be enveloped by

The coldness of the night

I see your flicker waking my stagger

Swarming in like a mutiny,

With a prickly warning for everyone

Who refuses to see…

Tell me oh firefly,

When you storm across a homeless kin,

Thrown on the sidewalk to die for the night

Do you feel it ebb your soul?

Do you like us have learnt

To compare and reason why?

Answer me dear friend,

For I am just a drunkard

Drunk headlong with the moonlight

Wishing I could see the see,

And you with your flickering light

Has given me my endless nights,

Pervading and often serenading me

With the sweet resonance of light…

Alas! How ghastly has this become?

For me to realize that such a wayward drunkard

I have become, suckling upon this tinsel town

Learning to dance to the tunes of this dreary life,

That I can no longer tell,

The difference between cars and fireflies…

The difference between cars and fireflies...

Smoke

2008-10-30T04:35:00.000-07:00

Of all the things I gave to the wind,
It was you, who left me empty.

The burn embers of a dying cigarette,
The lost ashes of what was once human,
The weary light of a candle just before it dies,
cries with me.

Often upon the winds feet you dance,
enticing me, whimsically teasing the doors of my breath,
mocking me, singing a song of warmth
and asking me if I still remember?

oh how could I tell you in my life's desperation
how much I still remember how you once felt
between my fingers,
breathing life into my being,
awaiting to be blown away...

Oh I still remember.

Your memory haunts my lips
making them quiver for another mouthful of you,
for your life to exorcise my soul
and in second make my eyes teary in ecstasy.

And such is the torment I live,
unknown to your dance, but you still
with your elusive smile taunt me such,
reminding my soul how it was to be holy!

Oh torment me not now,
for everyday is beginning to be just
a pain stained memory of how without you
we are but ashes waiting to be be.

PS-

2008-10-30T04:28:00.000-07:00

Finding my feet - part two is still in the cauldron but I couldnt stop myself from putting up these two poems i recently wrote.

Finding my feet - Part 1

2008-09-07T04:40:00.001-07:00

The last month crashed down and I dint realize when it did. It had tumbled down and I have to say it was a joyous tumble. A tumble the gave way for growth, understanding and self actualization.

I traveled last month. Finally found my feet as they walked where time my companion took me. From sacred grounds on earth to more sacred ones in my soul. Things are definitely not the same in my heart and I definitely have grown immensely in the last one month, regaining authority, choice and understanding of my very being.

Bihar where Laloo sits below a tree spitting paan, where the uncouth people carry guns, a foreground of crime and naxalites, this was the picture the media had painted for me. But from the minute I arrived in Patna, it was the beginning of the end of such baseless accusations. With every second growing I felt the green breeze of warmth, innocent people smiling, amused by a city girl in a villager, the children naked playing ; it was a exorcism of everything the media made me believe Bihar was.

I stepped into Patna unsure and anxious to be embraced into comfort as family by a home I now call mine.

Sitamadi- finding my foot back to home
The memory that I cant shake away of this place is the emerald green lake where the Legendary Godesss Sita was found by her father King Janaka. It was at this spot my eyes stilled with the beauty it held the green serenity of this place I now called home.

We traveled a grueling 8 hours a 4 hour from Patna to Sitamadi delay due to the floods in Bihar. From the window of my car, I witnessed natures gallery of lush green bamboo thickets that stooped to kiss the lake, children with smiles that were still so pure it could warm your eyes, the sound of their laughter as their foot kissed the earth as the ran naked, banyan trees with their tresses swaying in the wind, young mothers with childlike faces battling with love with their crying babies… it was a flickering flashes of beauty.

Men crouching on top of buses, the narrow careening market ways, the roads where cows slept, more images, just more to see.

Strange realizations come to us in unexpected times. It was in the days I spent in Sitamadi I rediscover what I called home. Amidst the green, like a child walking barefoot over wet grass. I understood this is what home means.

My travel took me yet again to the holy city of Beneras. The trade city of everything sacred, the city famous for its saris,the city where ganga speaks and the ghats lead you to she.

I found friends here.

The days I stayed in Beneras this time, made me understand how lovely it is to find and bond with people you meet unexpectedly. Vishal (the sane one) and Siddharth ( the stoned one) have become so close to me that I feel life has its ways of finding the brothers you dint bother to see. In a way, in my constant search for family, I have found brothers of my creed.

It was in this city, in the bustling riot of colours, where paanwalahspunctuated every street and every corner you could see something holy, splashed in the saffron, I fell in chaos. The beauty of madness overtook me, the serenity it gave as we sat by the ghat listening to people sing in a distant corner, watching a lamp flicker across the ganges, smelling the scent of marijuana in the paan stained streets feeling the breeze as it ticked the flower garlands on display, I realized it shall always be with me.

All of it. I shall return I mumbled to myself, when it was time to leave.

I shall return to join the music of the river and find where I can rest free.

To be continued...

The Mirror

2008-08-24T03:28:00.000-07:00

And onto the window pane her reflection fell,
As the rain trickled down to caress the images in between.
Beheld in momentary realities, the images slowly slipped away
into the abyss of existence.

I peered in to see.

The frosted glass where people left their images
to be blurred and contorted to its fancy.
The pane where images stilled a while
Before vanishing into the pelets of fleeting reality.

I stared right at me.

Consumation.

2008-08-24T03:25:00.000-07:00

Surrounded by you,
Consumed by you,
Eveverything becomes reflections of you.
Your eyes, Your soul, Your scent
Prevail like ghosts that fumigate my very being with you.

I lay there by the window of truth,
overwhlemed with the happiness your presence gifted to my soul,
whilst you in you in your peaceful sleep
whispered music as breath to my awaiting ears.
it was there. Wrapped in my arms, you lay silent as your sweat kissed
my skin,trickling down from your brow to my bossom,
as you lips tingled by my barren chest,

Our fragrance was born.

And turning coyly in your sleep you snuggled
as you squeesed my soul from the palm of my hand
onto yours,forever for you to hold
Wandering with your soul, and you mine
waiting for life to unfold, here you are
my father, my son, my lover, my glorious surrender.

Bitten And Tempted.

2008-07-07T01:46:00.001-07:00

What would I be if I had not seen thee
Heard thy whisper by the forbidden tree
What would I be if I had listened to thee
Imprisoned in paradise a mere she.

And now that I did pay heed
Tempted to bite.
A life does beseech me.
What had I bitten?
It was life indeed.

2008-06-19T04:36:00.000-07:00

Bite the hand that feeds

I beseech you hurt me!

This unwinding will

has withered coyly into a pod

like a newly blossomed pea

that was devoured too early

from the comfort of its womb

the will has stopped to breathe

oh bite the hand that feeds

help me see if you can wake

the ones who forgot to breathe

In search of blank

2008-05-29T00:12:00.000-07:00

My head turned left, down into the broken alley. Gandhi ngr, a street which has tumbled into ruins. Gandhi ngr, where now a lone beggar in rags was rolling a joint. It was just two of us now. Me and you.

The beggar somehow wasn’t present, nor did the ruins of the flats and multistory, and the occasional mew of stray cats preying on the torn rats of the ruins went silent. It was still. I do not know if the lone beggar was intoxicated enough to reach this level, but I knew I was.

No, it was not a materialistic intoxicant. Not cocaine, marijuana, nor was it the petty pills of ecstasy or the rather elaborate LSD. It was different high. From my childhood, I used to get dizzy abruptly. I was six years old when I felt dizzy and fell off the rickshaw to school. I never could explain it, till I was sixteen. Now I slip into this intoxicating highs every once in a while, this happened when I realized what these dizzy spots were actually. I slowly turned it into my pleasure. I was proud.

I dint need alcohol, or any earthy intoxicants. My body devised this method, where I could get high anywhere but anytime was still out of my reach. So here I was high at work, high at lunch, high at a professional meeting, high at a date, and now high at Gandhi ngr ruins.

So this happened to me on October 22^nd. Though I had lost track of dates or dates, this date stuck onto my head like a parasite feeding on my lost brain. I was at a lunch date with yet another weird man I had met at work. Yet again, he had asked me out, and somehow as declining a client was never on my agenda I agreed. So here we were at a fancy Chinese restaurant whose interiors were designed to give you “peace and relaxation”, where new age music of the sea played all the time.

This was the day I remember as the last day of my life as a socially acceptable me. This was the last day as the advertisement producer, who laughed and breathed the fake air around her. This was the last day for rules that chained my wandering soul onto a broken electric chair, my life. I broke free.

I was free.

So here I was in the ruins of Gandhi ngr, may be a fortnight after I was freed. No, I am not sure. The days now only dawned and sunk into the night unnoticed. In a way I hadn’t the time for time, place or for any worldly placard. I was free.

I squeezed the card in my hand harder, it seemed to now disfigure and ooze into my moist palm. Yes! That’s what I wanted. I wanted to be one with what was on the card. Let me describe the card to you. It was a piece of paper I found in my jacket on the last day I left. I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know what it was, but somehow I thought it was my commandment. In bold letters the card read “BLANK”.

This is what I was in search of. Blank. But it was not a search like the ones I have had before, when pressure and tension abused my body, and time crept in as a silent rapist to remind me of my deadline. No. It was nothing like it. For here there was no dead line.

No pressure or tension and more surely no concept of time. I lost “time” when I walked out of that Chinese restaurant that day and haven’t bothered to look for it ever since.

So here I was haggard, on steps of a ruin, not wanting to look back or turn to my kingly parasitical past, still high without an intoxicant. I turned. I saw him. He was a tall burly man of forties, who could camouflage into the ruins.

“So”, he said. “You are here”. I stood there still trying to get out of my avid high. “You finally found me ah” he sniggered. My lips for some weird reason broken into a smile. Not a sarcastic one, not an egoistic one. Just a smile, like the ones when you were a child.

For some reason then I broke to tears, I cannot explain why for by now I have stopped explaining things to everyone around me, even to myself.

Then a silence fell. “You are free” he said. “Ah” I replied. I was in loss of words, not like an Alzheimer’s patient but seriously dumbfounded like a breast feeding child. “Are you ready to meet BLANK”, he asked.

My mouth opened but no words came out. I was breathing cold, yet my body was heaving hot. My tongue which had remained dry now salivated. Here I was starved over a fortnight, with my clothes now in rags hanging loosely around this thin skeleton. Here I was ever ready.

“You shall now be liberated” he said.

My eyes closed. I fell onto his feet. I didn’t squirm. I didn’t feel the pain. In ecstasy I found it.

I found BLANK.

The oblivious beggar now noticed, a woman in her mid thirties, clutching the lamppost. Her guts bleeding. Her body cold. Her eyes closed. Liberated indeed.

Liberated indeed.

Indulgence

2008-05-26T04:49:00.000-07:00

Strolling in a conversation with the wind

The waves played with my hair.

And the pebbles rolled by…

Kissing my feet

Worshiping my heel

The pebbles rolled by…

Resurrected by my finger tips

Dying as they fall into the water

The pebbles rolled by

Fishes consuming my toes

And with sand that held onto my heel; jealous

The pebbles rolled by

The wind suddenly stopped

Scooped to kiss flowers in my hair

And the pebbles rolled by...

Swept by a instant I gave into the caressing waters

And gave myself to the wind to devour

Far beyond as the cosmos sat to drink my soul

The voyeuristic stars peeped to feed their lusty eyes

And the skies darkened and cried

And unnoticed the pebbles died.

And unnoticed the pebbles died

She

2008-05-23T15:41:00.000-07:00

With a waist like the beak of a swan
she sings to the silent winds
seducing the lost reason
to kill itself without rhyme

lips locked in the splendor
of maze like eyes
she invites a subtle
wind to lisp her heaving breath
and to her arms I surrendered
a child coyness sans
in her supple body
in the sweet torment pangs
I felt at home at last.

She was the song
I was a mere thread
she was the melody
I was what her eyes said

her smile kissed the planet
and a distant labyrinth it began
a kingdom far away
a fairy’s lone land

and in that flower kissed arms I lay
afraid to breath lest it killed her sleep
and in the dew kissed flower I sang
afraid to dance lest I should wake her feet
and in that lost moment
this life strolled away in wanderlust
and in a flash gave away what I felt inside!

naked

childlike

lost

adoring

the beautiful mist

called she.

Five

2008-05-23T13:29:00.000-07:00

A glint across some wine.

“I am done” he said. “This hangman has to quit”, he said; as he slammed down his fork in the middle of his cold meat, which very much looked like him raw, unclean, half baked in parts, and covered in precocious layer of blubber.

The plates clanked against a wine stained table cloth, then momentarily stilled in her pupils.

She turned and the flicker of candle was gone. Someone breathed she thought.

No she was wrong. He just walked away.

An empty room and a skinny woman, lone on the dinner table with a half eaten peach rotting by the plate. She slid another oreo cooked down her throat. it was her regular fifth, the one before what she called the threshold, rather the one before the one that breaks the threshold to hold it in. But today five was a good number.

Five fingers down her throat.

She followed her ritual.

Her ribs ached to be covered by the nonexistent flab only her eyes saw. And this was the story of a chubby little girl who refused to grow up.

Five did it today.

He left five minutes too early.

She collapsed 5 seconds after her 5th ritual of the day.

It was all like black jack. And suddenly five became the lucky card that could draw it all. These unrecognized fateful events like a join the dot picture.

A picture of chubby girl and the man who left home 5 minutes too early.

Song of the wind

2008-04-27T23:17:00.000-07:00

By the glorious rays of the sun

I was born naked to kiss the joy

The world once drank out of vials of petals

Kissed by the ordained joy I began

To listen the larks sing the lullaby

Of death ever slowly hissing in the wind

It was then, one fine day in paradise

Our eyes did meet and our hands

Held what we fostered as life as

The nomadic wind that led

What was to be.

In sporadic breath we lived

In subtle intimacy like such of

A honey seeking bee and a

Torn petal pollen laden on the sea breeze

To us the children are but a fruit

Who know not what the future holds true

But by the seed buried deep in their hearts

For the awaiting earth to bide in as roots.

To us we are but speck of dust

That the dew encased as the dawn broke out to smile

But what are we?

What are we if the wind decides to die ?

The Woman

2007-10-14T18:26:00.000-07:00

He turned to see

What he had made of her

As she awaited by the banks

Of the sacred river

Her vermilion etched forehead

Crept by the moving window sill

Of his rickety old motor boat

As she disappeared into the horizon

As a faint dot, a fading flame.

By the endless fish drenched ocean

His sweat rolled by the sun’s lust

Morbid fell the fish amassed by his net

Empty though was his heart that raged

By old rusted window sill

Dawn to dusk, week to week

He sat there in the sea

Wondered where this woman

Who’s vermillion etched forehead

Rested safely by his hearts cease

Had burst out of the little flower girl

Who sat coyly by his side as Agni

Announced the couple to be

And blessed them with prosperity.

He sighed another sigh

As his hands withdrew roughly the net

He so carefully scattered below the sea

Quivering to his sight as he closed his eyes

He saw her willful entity

As she burst open the doors

Of the flower girl who once wed he.

Her lips stained by his teeth

Her breath heaving silently

Her arms tightly around he.

She surrendered for him to see.

As the net he laid brought back bounty

The knot he tied got him she

Not the flower girl.

But the woman whose vermilion etched forehead

Told the world, that there was he.

So you have walked away too?

2007-09-16T12:03:00.001-07:00

Alone I waited, in the red mist of existence

Waiting to bring upon an identity, assurgent

I waited pining in pain pregnant with desire

Yearning you to life, as you died in the hands of your mother

I waited long for someone to hiss my spirits to life

I wanted long for someone to walk my side

Then you came along, suddenly gave me life

Why then did you run, even for a moment

From the flamen ashes you spilled upon my heart?

Why then did you not answer, neither recall

Today when I stand alone by your ashes

I have forgotten how to weep.

Its just a mother washing the bones of a still born

By the holy sands refusing to seek

Under a blue sky

2007-08-28T23:28:00.001-07:00

I stand under the moon
Where the umbrella man
Holds up the blue blue sky
With little moth holes for stars
A old handless pan for the moon
I stand under the moon
Where the umbrella man
Holds up the blue blue sky.

The stars shine, bright, fine
Where I drink the moonlight
The stars shine bright, fine
Where my soul rests tonight
For I stand under the moon
Where the umbrella man
Holds up the blue blue sky

The pathway is closed
The stairway to fish to the sky
Is the only given choice
Should I stand drinking the moonlight?
Should I touch the hollow inside?
For I stand under the moon
Where the umbrella man
Holds up the blue blue sky…

Naked Identity

2007-07-26T04:22:00.001-07:00

Sheltered by his shoulder
Craved by his eyes
There in his arms, life began.

I was a naked girl
Walking by the beach
Where the shores trampled
Across my bleeding feet

I was a naked girl
Walking by the beach
Where the adulteress sky
Slept with the sun in the dusk
Making her lover the sea weep.

I was a naked girl
Walking by the beach
Till your hands held me
Taming my bleeding feet
Gave me my identity

I am just a naked girl
Walking by the beach
Where the waves clashed
To meet the sultry rocks
Whenever in bed eyes closed
Lay we

The beginning

2007-07-26T04:17:00.000-07:00

In loss of words
I sang
Lost my breath
Yet I ran

In love’s sigh
I lived
In his whisper
I cradled

In his yearning hands
I sank
A sailor without a life jacket
On a sinking ship
A wanderer without footsteps
In a pathless ocean
A mother without a child
In a heartless world

I began

I.

Began

Ode to the free children of Mumbai

2007-07-26T04:14:00.001-07:00

Lost like the swaying
Roots of a banyan
We clung onto life
As the transient winds
Kissed our feet

By the doorsteps of chance
We ran like rats
Screeching coyly at
The sarcasm of life

Here we were
Here we are

Worlds lost children
White souls dipped in fluorescence
Here we were
A tomorrow yearning to be.

An evening at gaze.

2007-07-26T04:11:00.000-07:00

By the broken oak chair,
The three legged cripple
I left your bag of feathers
It had weaned
Falling quietly off your wings
The bloodstained tips
Creaked as they rusted
By the window where
The bars threw a shadow
I creaked.
I cried.
As my old chair rocked
Its three legs stalled
Between the stale air
And the moist ground.
I turned around to ask.

How is your bleeding wing?

Death of a war journalist.

2007-06-02T01:41:00.001-07:00

Nobody cried. Except for an old woman who bore him by her womb. She stroked his bruised head which was now mummified by the bandages. His face was covered, lest the whole world would see the shame it had borne. No he wasn’t a shame. He couldn’t be.

Seven bullet shots the doctor conformed. Two right through the spine slicing his life away. bruise marks on his hands suggested he was tied to such a shame. “His feet was probably bound too,” the doctor added. “You see that black clot, it must have been a chain”.

A torn mother dint hear all that. For her he was just a voiceless being mouthing something that was beyond her deaf ear. She ought to be deaf. She slightly clenched her husbands hand as his wheelchair trotted by. They exchanged glances.

There was no hue, there was no cry. But a gentle sob more painful to digest. She hath wept.

Outside it was another bright day for the world. Someone catered some viewers some most awaited gossip, a tangy page 3 speck of imagination. Someone brought them news about a British journalist who scratched his arm in the terror of a cat. Someone sold candy floss that could make your teeth blue.

And yet inside lay a man who was once part of it all, yet far apart.

the lilies you gave

2007-05-21T02:11:00.000-07:00

Remember by the swelling spring

You used to slice their shoots

Across the evergreen ponds that respire

Their long stems still juicy with life

The green shoots lined with luscious juice

The sun that weaned across to shine

Upon their white faces

As yours implored mine,

Our lips locked we used to

Grip the lilies a little too tight

Across the fresh grass we lay

Two lovers and the lilies you gave.

Today the wind slurs a eulogy,

Across the pond which now seems

Green filled with moss, dirty in every need

The moon falls upon an empty mire

Where the grass was once overgrown

A lone tombstone stands

Where we once as lovers lay

And the lilies you gave

Have withered away.

The Empty Window

2007-05-14T16:59:00.000-07:00

By the frosted window pane

I sit

I wait

The lilies you left in the case

Have wilted, drying a teary face

The memories you left behind

As past lay like a thorn

Upon my sweaty bosom

The frosted window pane breathes

As warm whiff of ecstasy

It muddles reality,

As naked, you and me disappear

In a thought.

A dream.

But I still sit

By the frosted window pane.

I sit.

Alone.

I wait.

Void

2007-05-07T15:18:00.000-07:00

What love is that?
That which cannot give,
That in a Childs smile
Does not see bliss?
What love is that?

What love is that?
That which cannot see
That in a poor man’s eyes
A note for mercy?
What love is that?

What love is that?
That is so mute
That refuses to cry
When war blood stained drum
Thumps another beat
What love is that?

And yet we love
Like rats caught in hole
With a longing hope

Only hope

A empty promise it may be.

But yet we hope.

Touch

2007-04-20T11:33:00.000-07:00

I heard his whisper gently kiss my ear,
Eyes closed I hear his heart murmur
Tingled by joy was he,
Tasted by a whiff of glory.
Tumbled by intoxication of his sweat
My gentle heart misses a beat
When the beats slur into speech
My heart wonders, is this he?
Is it he, the one I met recently?
How could this be?
Oh how could this be?

As I see his hands in the shadow
Withdrawing slowly,
Is this a dream? Ah such sweet agony!
Then suddenly my skin breathes he,
And then like a fully bloomed tree
Stands there pleased oh so fully!

My agony, my pain, my glory,
Don’t let go, I am thine forever in need,
For this gentle kiss across the breeze!

My eternity

2007-04-16T15:09:00.000-07:00

Look yonder into my worldly eyes

See what our true love means

Every tear I do dote painfully

For it hadn’t been for ye!

Kiss my quivering lip

As you dip in for more

Like a bee seeking nectar

Leave behind some soul.

For such distances

Shrivel my heart weak

Such distances makes seconds

Last for eternity

Ah the penury!

Let me pine for ye

My lover, my eternity

Why?

2007-04-16T07:26:00.000-07:00

The dark circles around her eyes crinkled together to form uneven lumps as she wept. Her eyes now swollen of tears quivered like a pendulum once stirred weaning to a stop. Her teeth bit her lower lip as she sobbed out the last few tears.

It was done for.

Over.

He left as he came. With no trace at all.

As her eyes closed how these flashes tormented her. his fingers tracing her lips, their last kiss, the whiff of his breath on her neck, his hands upon her breast, his eyes longing with love…

She shook out it. But it kept on coming. His hands holding her waist, now the subtle press of his lips, his lips kissing her eyes, now her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders…

She screamed as she felt the blood trickle down her arm. The glass pieces glistened on the floor. She slid lifeless next to one.

Across the white room, there was her with her long locks of hair swaying across the wall sitting on a puddle of blood she bled. Weeping. Sobbing to death.

The shrill phone sprang to existence in the monotony of his dull room. The room was rather suave but for the piles of work that lay unfinished on his extra slim laptop. The monotony of the people swarming like locusts, screaming what they though was something he was used to by now. He dint even notice it anymore.

His soft fleshy hands found its way to the crying phone and with a scream of exasperation.

“Some fuckin buyer I think” he muttered as he flushed with another spurt of tiring anger.

Soon his rosy face drained to white.

When? He muttered.

She was found at seven this morning by the daily guard accidentally as he peeped through a open window.

But why? His voice quivered.

You should know was the answer and the user hung up abruptly.

Silence

2007-04-16T03:04:00.000-07:00

Silence.

A head tilted to respire.
A pair of heaving lips parted
Slightly by reprise to breathe
A eyelid fluttered.

Silence.

A foot tapped impatiently by the coffee table
A pair of eyes eagerly waited at the door.
Hands clasped endlessly making unfamiliar shapes
Cigarette smoke fed the hungry ash tray.

Silence.

The insightful pupil held an image
His hand found mine
My head swayed to rest
His shoulder laden but gratified.
Whole again.

Silence.

Lust

2007-03-23T06:26:00.000-07:00

As these broken pieces fake
A corporeal lip lock to waste away
Oh dear mother, did I cut you today?
Did your lips bleed,
Because of the sharp greed?
Did I cut too far too deep,
Into the zest of your lusty needs?

These kisses like broken glass grow
Tearing away ignominy below
Oh dear lord, why do I fear?
When you have meant this to be
Across this sweaty mire.

Tell us oh good one,
Where would we be?
If not for Eve’s lusty need?

Tell us oh good one,
Where would we be?
If you fight this feeling, refuse to breed!

By the windowed cell would we wean
One by one, lost with nothing to give.
Without this lust, this corporal need,
Will we be around, to see thee bleed?
Will we be around, to see thee bleed.

Footprints in the desert.

2007-03-21T10:08:00.001-07:00

My footprints grew weary today
They too wish to leave my day
I heard them whispering to my shadow
Which too weaned away by sundown

The air became heavy with loom
Weaved by the loss of your words
I clamped my bloody foot across
The cold sun burnt sands of the night

Waiting to believe the lies told
The moon sat behind a veil
Of your pristine clouds
As its reflection rippled away
In the stillness of my mind.

Separation stood still, it dint bleed
As much as your memory did.

Sun rose with a hundred crackling
Thoughts that burned my soul
Encumbered with endless memories
I still walk.

I, still.

Walk.

On your shoulder lay I

2007-03-09T11:27:00.000-08:00

The night blurred into existence
As our lips once locked looked away
Your dark skin upon mine sprang
Into a thousand questions, why?
Why did we meet in ways we
Couldn’t in our own heads comprehend?
Why in that broken lip lock
I felt eternity yet lost a friend?
Why do I doubt its reality when I can,
See what it has done to you and me?
Is this lust? Am I pure?
Is this distance pining to endure?
Why am I lost when you are no more
By my side, but yet am lost inside
When on your shoulder lay I

Ode to the dark child.

2007-02-24T01:01:00.001-08:00

Born from a fiery tear rolling from the burning eyes of glory,
That once impregnated the calm blue ocean mist,
Oh I saw thee.

You were a child, yet outgrown.
Dark limbs in a large frame worn

Our eyes met,
Life became a blur of the known
From the very day I saw thee.
There was only we.

We strung each other like puppets
Pulling each others strings
Made us laugh, giggle, cry out grins.
Then there was us, a playful two
A white child in love with a dark brew
And our every wisp was a painful ecstasy, intoxicating in every need.
That sometimes I could look up and fell them spew
Upon my cold body your warm dew.

Naked we grew, naked in under the blanket
Of the spilling dew.
Torn by the bedside lamp lay reality,
She sat there not wanting to be seen,
With no one to heed, no reality.
Mesmerized we lay
Naked by the union of the sea
Soaring the sands of she and he.

I am here to stay.

2007-02-15T11:52:00.000-08:00

Oh beautiful wave, You have receded back to where you came from;
Yet I stand here alone, soaring from the tears you left behind.

The crabs on my weeping sands carve you name still,
And I breathe today hoping to find your scent in the wind.

Oh beautiful wave, has the moon drawn you so far away,
That you do not see my unblemished face?

Oh beautiful wave, has thou been so blinded by lust to see,
The moon will soon fade away, but I am here to stay.

I am here to stay.

Untitled

2007-01-22T02:58:00.000-08:00

I walk through those faces everyday. I remember them. It is not too difficult to. In fact I remember the exact scorn, cover-up artificial smile they give me when they find out. I remember the day my brother declared he would never return to this rotting nation. I was quite amused at his brash decisions, but today I think I kind of understand.

I walk threw the sewers they built around my house. The human defecates, the cool coddle of the not so friendly piglets, the stinging smell of freshly dumped cow dung cakes on my wall, the cuss of the people as I walk by… wait I know what you are thinking. And yea am not repulsed by it. People think these things will let me know I am not wanted, they think this could be the get out sign nailed to my face. They think all this would make me hurt inside. Feel rotten. But the irony is these things make me feel alive, sting me back to my life every morn when I go down to see another chalk mark that says faggot on my wall, it only makes me smile.

I crusaded through pain. Many of times I wonder if it was masochistic to enjoy crusading through pain or is it the sadism of making people realize that they do not affect me, in fact its like severing their testicles and serving it to them for dinner.

Today a middle aged man suffered the pain of my company in the bus stop. His oily hair parted in the centre and his betel stained mouth cussed about the crowd on his hands free mobile receiver. The bus arrived and the crowd moved, like flocks of starving cannibals onto a dead mans limb. He looked relieved until he turned around to see me. He closed his eyes and tried to avoid eye contact. It made me wonder if he was praying, praying I do not get on the same bus as him, and the last seat yet to be filled being the one right next to mine. But prayers never work.

So there he was sitting right next to me, not really next to me actually at the edge of the seat. Hostile, rather like a bitch on its period, leaking with betel juice whenever he cursed beneath his breath. He then moved his large leather bag between me and him, and smiled to himself at the sharpness of his wit. I smirked as I thought this is how the guy who signed us into the Enron must have smiled. He caught my smile by the corner of his eye and noticed that I noticed.

He tried to look down. He dint want to make eye contact. To his embarrassment his eyes fell upon my size 9 clean manicured feet, with toenails painted bright red. I hope he noticed the skin that glistened after yesterday’s painful waxing session. But wrong again. He only cursed more and leaked like he was on heat!

Just then the window blew a cool breeze which made me pastoral printed scarf brush the side of his face. He grunted, I apologized. He grunted again. I smiled. He turned away threatened. The young lovers in the front seat had just cuddled together, as the breezed tickled their bold ways. And there they silently pecked each other. I gazed, smiled as I remember my heart once fluttered, and then he sneezed! The lovers now withdrew, looked back and forth as the girl now tried to mask her face with a scarf.

He sneezed again. She hid her face on her lover’s arm who was now looking around to see if anyone had seen their ghastly acts.

He sneezed again. I couldn’t stop myself this time. I turned pulled out my red purse and drew some tissue out of it. The last thing I wanted was some of his goo on the seat. He turned shocked to see me offer him some tissue but took it anyways. And then he sneezed again four more times. Sneeze, sneeze, sneeze and sneeze. This was followed by a series of sounds that reminded me of time I tried to flush my pet frog down drain when it was still alive.

The bus strolled into the next stop where the lovers hurriedly escaped. May be I would see them another day in another bus, I thought. He got up to take their seat but before he could even get onto his feet a mother dragged her sick child to it.

He sat back to seat, scratching crotch as if he got up to set them right. He whistled, then a long silence followed. I decided to rest my eyes a while, this much entertainment is always a strain on the eye. Just then I heard his on his handset again.

He was mumbling, but I sure could hear what he was saying.

“Can I get aids?” he asked.

“Can I get aids if I accidentally touched the hands of transvestite? “

He looked around to see if I was listening not that he cared but just instinctively I suppose.

“It’s a homosexual disease”, he muttered. I supposed the speaker asked him why he thought so.

After a series of head shakes, and a vehement paranoid fidgeting session, he mumbled again.

“Alright, am getting out of here”, he declared to the speaker on the other side.

I still remember the look on his face when he finally got down at the next bus stop. The white fear that drained his brown skin. I laughed.

Living in You

2007-01-22T02:57:00.000-08:00

In some faint music of time,
I walked barefooted.
Across the sharp pebbles
Of your words that colored me red.

In some faint echoes of love
I swam naked.
Into depths of ice cold
Seas of you wavering mind.

In some faint fragrance of death
I slept undisturbed.
Forever falling into dark abyss
Of the never ending torment of you!

Intoxicated

2007-01-10T02:18:00.000-08:00

Into the mystic valley
Where green kisses
The foreheads of flower children
I waited for you.

The incense swirled
My dark locks onto a dance
As they curled upon the pale wall
Painting images of
The less intoxicated eros.
I wait.

You come.
Eyes lock.

Between the subtle lisp
Of my moan and my
Drenching breath
Us is born

The dawn brings tainted
Sunlight across the mushroom
Covered skies.

I lay awake.
Naked on large empty bed
I kiss my palm with your
Breath. To see if you lived to see
My dark locks painting
You red.

The mourning

2007-01-02T01:55:00.000-08:00

A brooding dog once wept,
on her dead master's cold feet.
she silently sobbed whilst
his lost breath suffocated her heart.

He was still.
Content at heart.

As his dog wept on his cold feet and cried
Why not?

Stranded

2006-12-19T06:32:00.001-08:00

It suffocated me
These unsaid words
The loud silence
I suffocated

Lying on a coarse
Sea shore, where the sand
Lay torn between the damp
Sea mooning over the hot
Abrasive dissipated sand.

The moon’s glory kissed
My feet, told me not to worry
Her rays tickled the tips
Of my abysmal soul
Kissing, sucking onto the tender
Toes of repentance
Begged me not to worry

I suffocated more

How could I not worry?

I threw my soul for spiders to feed
Sold my love, for it was a righteous need

How could I not worry now?

Tossing beyond the cold seas
An old catamaran finds solace
In the warm breath of the sand
It rattles onto the shore, looking
For balance. I pieces the two
Together by its old rotting logs
That tie the sunken frame together.

I sit up.

With no heart to throw you out,
No heart to hold thee closer
Just a pound of flesh
Pumping blood, void like
I walk with the damp water
Lapping my feet on the
Sun burnt sands,

I walk.

Hence born...

2006-12-19T06:32:00.000-08:00

In your arms I was born again
Like a child, coy, still too shy
To break into smile, curled
With my head upon my knees
With blood gushing to my head
Intoxicated by your scent
Hearing you moan in a pain
That granted us our pleasure
That holy union of the soul
By which I burnished purity
Our sweat gleaming into one
Heavy breath of the greater whole

I began to breathe thus.

Hence born.

Oh what have we here?

2006-12-04T14:05:00.000-08:00

In the beginning there was just a tear
I wept. My heart bleated pain as it
Began to ooze out as acerbic tears
That burnt the corners of my soul
My guts imploded into pitiful pain
I coiled down as a weeping worm
Weeping for he had left.
But the tears dint stop my love.

A remorseful anger overtook me
I was possessed by the fiery rage
Of rejection, backfiring with a string
Of words spit from an acid tongue
I hurt him so for I thought it would
help forget the affections for him
I ragged, like rabid dog bit everything
That reminded me of him.

Only to realize I was futile.
For the whole word reminded me of him.
The songs, the wind, the flowers…
I tried to run away, but there was no
Such place that made him forget me
I stumbled upon intoxicants but
None helped for there is no intoxicant
Like his love filled eyes, warm hands
That caressed my soul.

I stand alone today, trying to drown
This neediness, wishing to rip the skin
That wishes to cry for him, wishing
That burning anger shall burn my plight

Oh throw me on stake tonight
For I know naught what I abhor
What hurt me the most, I sob
Is what I love the most?
Am a masochist.
A worn out whore of emotions
Throw me into the stake now!
Let the burning fires erase his
Scent across my breath
Let me be purified, rotting in hell

For he hath marked my soul to be his
Left me bleeding and I stand here
Acting like it doesn’t hurt
A pseudo martyr he called me
Oh what have we here?
Oh what have we here?

Anger of the thrown

2006-12-01T12:58:00.002-08:00

Call me a fake pod
A lying letch sucking
On the bleeding thumbs
Of your muddy feet

Call me a maggot
A stinking pile of
Feces rotting by
Your scented trails
Of your beauty

But what shall you call yourself?

I may be a pseudo martyr
Leaking pain upon my stead

Oh just what will you call yourself?

When all you made me believe
Was just a wreck, a promise that
Thrown away at a whisker’s shed

Oh! I am just a maggot sir,
A fake pod. A futile nonentity.
I was never the one indeed.

But were you even worth the heed?

Ode to the lost song of the free

2006-12-01T12:58:00.001-08:00

Oh take me where the reaper sings,
Golden beyond what the harvest brings
There is where I wish to lie.
By the dried golden writhe of the grain filled
Bodies crushing against the rhythm of a stone
A wheel or may be the lost song, onto where the reaper sings

The nights wander in the city’s melancholic
Tall walls, which mourn the sad buzz
Of the head lighted locust swarms
That drives hazy across concrete streets
The lone taxi’s horn bleats, across a drunken clamor
Of the night less noises of sophisticated
And the windows speak of their drunken revelry.

Oh take me father away from such a misery.
For here in my cold room, through the bars
That have caged me with the cobwebs of necessity
My heart sings the lost song hidden beyond the moons face
Yonder in the silent greens of the banyan tree
As the gentle cuckoo whispers to the free
And the reaper unmindful of everything, mutters the song
Golden beyond what the harvest brings.

Another

2006-12-01T12:58:00.000-08:00

I shut my eyes. I said I do. I dint want to see how his face lighted up when he lovingly said those words. Then there was my supposed first married kiss. My lips pressed against his, as his gentle stubble brushed over tear ridden cheek.
He squeezed my hand gently to ask me why the tear. “I am overwhelmed,” I lied. He elated tugged me tighter to reassure me.

This was my wedding night and I had promised myself I shall not think of him.

The gentle muslin drapes waved with the breeze. The wind kissed my hair, and the roses that lay entangled in my dry brown hair fell loose. He held my hand still warmly looking into my eyes. ‘Is something wrong?’ his words rung upon my ear. “I am just overwhelmed”, I lied. He held me closer; I could feel his love across his rough skin. His hand brushed my cheek and stroked my hair. I lay there not blinking just staring into the infinite night.

He slept like a child with his arms tightly wrapped around my bosom. His eyes opened to my still face. “Darling are you fine?” he whispered duskily. “I am just…” I stammered when he interrupted my split tongue with a kiss.

I felt his lips encroach upon my dry skin. “I love you,” he said, innocently looking into my eyes with his large brown eyes. “Remember, I said I do” he teased chuckling gently.
I turned away a tear rolled by but I laughed a fake hysterical laugh.

“I remember,” I said. As he curled up and fell into another sleep as I lay there awake.

I remembered.

I remembered how it was to be kissed by another when the gentle muslin drapes waved with the breeze; how I felt another’s hand hold me closer as the wind kissed the air; how I felt another’s hand scatter the scarlet rose petals as the roses fell loose and how I felt another’s breath every moment I was alive.

I remembered.

Leela

2006-11-28T04:04:00.000-08:00

With mischief in his eyes
He teases a woman’s foresight
His finger tip curls
Inviting her lips to seal his
A blissful smile engulfs
Touched by his breath
Blue engulfs my soul
Blue in splendor!
Turquoise as the calming sea
Upon a storming, racing heart
His hands clasp around my waist
A wisp of his breath finds it way
To my breath, I lay intoxicated
As his skin melts into mine
Find me! Hold me!
He becomes me

Awake in a beatification
I slip away and when I
Wake up hes far away
But he left his fragrance
Behind, incense in my soul
I smile, I wait.

Give me blood, I shall give you freedom.

2006-11-20T04:11:00.000-08:00

A hundred lusty men cried
When I walked away
A hundred cried, but none died

I walked out of my cage
Into another only to be caged
The lights drew away
I couldn’t see your face
Felt you hands maneuver
Grope the bits of flesh
That still hung on to my frame
And I couldn’t still see your face

One after another shunned me
Luring my soul into entangled
Strings of grieving deceiving vain
Argh! I still live.

I see you again today
I recognize your face
For I recall your hands
As the grope another bleeding
Limb voraciously in need
Some gratification from this
Decaying pod I reside in
I see your face

Blood.

Eyes closed I chant my prayer
Numb again, you are dead
Oh god! Another prison?
No I wish it was me who was dead.
I walked over your corpse

And eyes stilled in the wind you said
Give me blood, I shall give you freedom instead.

An Angels Whisper

2006-11-17T21:43:00.001-08:00

Crouched in the corner
Scantily clad, head
Upon my knees
I look bare.

Eyes open
Cobwebs of time appear.
They seep through my skin
Stain my inners
The delusion to which
I adhere.

Spiders of money
Soar my skin,
As they climb the ladders
Of my mind, seeping
Through the skeletons
Safely locked in closets
Till it haunts, to which
I lay addicted.

I see him
He envelops me
I close my eyes
Begin to breathe.

My heart now listens to he,
Who as a serpent
To the forbidden led she
I am lost to insanity
For no more I see what
My father intended it to be.

He possesses me, holds my soul,
Whispers words, commands me,

Ah! My final destiny
I have fallen,
Become human indeed.

I have fallen
Become human indeed.

Ode to beauty

2006-11-17T21:43:00.000-08:00

Oh winters fair maiden of lust,
Come forth ye, bring along thy
Lost luster of the swarming bees

Oh summer’s fair beauty of gait,
Come forth ye, bring along thy
Wondrous warmth upon the singing sea

Oh autumn’s fair maiden of flight
Come forth ye, bring along thy
Nomadic winds a few red leaves.

Oh spring’s fair maiden of blooms
Come forth ye, bring along thy
Dew kissed petals and fragrant breeze

And in such a orgy of beauty
I wish to rest in peace
With spring’s golden petals on my feet
My head held high in autumn’s breeze
As summer’s warmth caresses me
On winter’s cold breast I lay my sleep

Ah such is the orgy of beauty

Such is the orgy of beauty

The man who walked away

2006-10-20T10:33:00.001-07:00

The wind kissed me free
The earth as dew wept for me,
The skies watched silently
As he walked away from me

I stood there alone.

Stark naked against the cold breeze
As the shadows finally deserted me

I stood there alone.

I turned to walk the weeping sand
But no footsteps I did cast
The light in my eyes drew scarce
The colour no more gleamed past
Shadow stolen, I stood there alone

Barren.

For he had taken everything with him
Upon his turned shoulder was my life
Bundles of joy, laughter but why
Why did he leave behind my cries.

I am a void.

But his life walked on by,

But his life walked on by.

Spaces that shape you and me

2006-10-20T10:33:00.000-07:00

Yonder by the flowing breeze
Misty beyond my candid needs

Yonder where my heart beats
Harder over my death pleas

Yonder by the churchyard greens
Beyond the grief the graveyard brings

Yonder where the woodpeck pecks
Over the bleeding resin the tree sheds

Yonder are the things between you and me
Beyond the distances that separates us in eternity.
Beyond the distances that separates us in eternity.

Everybody’s rag doll

2006-10-19T02:55:00.000-07:00

I have been torn,
Trampled upon.
Stuffed from the inside
Of all one could do without
Yet I have nothing to say
For beyond this bag of hay
Nothing speaks
Dolls don’t speak they only listen
Perchance they reassure
They give for you to take.
I have cried unseen many a day
But I know my painted
Smile wont give away
You think I am inanimate
Because I have nothing to say
You think I don’t hurt
Because I don’t cry your way?
But what else could a soul do
The soul trapped with
Stuffing of hay, a painted smile
And limbs of a torn sack
What else could I do?
But to be used and have nothing to say
But for the painted smile upon my face
Awaiting my rag doll days to roll away
Awaiting my rag doll days to roll away!

You me and the bright yellow bird

2006-10-16T11:39:00.000-07:00

Winter has kissed the trees,
As snow clad figurines,
Time upon my window did freeze
I wait upon your lips to hear
But I shall no longer press thee to

A little bird flew by my window
Its yellow wings sparkled so
The cold winter breeze dint stop
Her vivid little vivacious show
A little yellow bird flew by my window

I could turn to see your reflection read
Upon my window pane, but I turned instead
For I stood there watching the bright yellow
Bird that fell by window,

Your frozen words dint reach me
They melted by your lips, unnoticed
And I was still waiting by the window
When the little bird said ‘I told you so.”

Dont let him bleed

2006-10-12T02:47:00.000-07:00

I have weaved into this cosmic dance
A love of man and a love of a woman!
Can you tell me where to cry now?
If this is my intoxication
Where is his warmth?
If I am lost, where is he found?

I live here, oh so happiness
That rides my feet,
I live here for I have found
My lonely blissful eternity.
I lay awake, for no more
I am shadowed by a sleep called he

Oh gentle lullaby, envelop he
Take his pain far away
From where the wind that kisses his feet
Steal his tears away
Don’t let him bleed
Don’t let him bleed.

Of pills and cobwebbed ceilings.

2006-10-06T05:56:00.000-07:00

There I was popping a pill. It was mid day, my workplace flooded with people buzzing around with their cell phones and beepers constantly ringing, a few still mentally absent, and a few playing bored solitaire on their ancient computers. This was life.

Me sitting upon what looked like a graveyard of bright orange and yellow cubicles with people swarming in and out every five minutes through a glass door decorated with Chinese chimes. You could die in these places and not be noticed, unless you had a report to submit, or a gossip to be shared with.

I stirred looking at the spic white ceiling. It was the first time I did that. I noticed there were cobwebs in the corner, I noticed it everywhere. I could have called the cribbing cleaner, but I didn’t care they looked far more lively then everything here. Papers flooded around. I sat there alone

Just then the enthusiastic 14 yr old helper slammed a glass of hot tea upon my table and muttered tea under his breath. There was no coaster, as I picked up the glass I saw the ring it had formed on my freshly printed report. I would have screamed on a normal day but I didn’t care enough today.

I sipped into the piping hot tea too hazy to feel the heat. I sipped yet again. My perception had one out of the window, beyond eternity. Just then Sonal my coworker who I d like to best describe as a rickety auto rickshaw of the 60s not because she wasn’t suave and sexy but because she constantly creaked came by. I could smell her perfume 5 feet away.

I was sweating profusely still staring at the cobwebbed ceiling. I heard her giggle and say to me;

“Oh did you try the ecstasy?”

The yearning

2006-09-17T11:38:00.000-07:00

Such yearning consumes me,
Makes me needy for every beat
As my dead heart thumps another
I await to be touched, caressed by thee.

Does your soul recollect?
The day when the rains fell
Yonder where the lush green wept
The day your palms kissed
My bosom’s gentle breath.

I remember such a day
When I quivered to tell ye
How more I could detest,
Not a word rolled out in zest
My humble moans did soar
As love, we became a whole

And you in me I felt,
Ah it was holy reunion itself
When as a whole we moaned
Hearts racing, hands clasped
As if it were a prayer,
To forever live in such a moment
Ah! If only prayers came true
Such a sweet freedom,
I would behest upon you.

Whatever you want to say, say it in silence.

2006-09-09T06:03:00.000-07:00

He sat there sipping stinging liquor in an industrial cut crystal glass which made the cheap drink look expensive. The couch sank in one corner, suffering the boulder of his weight. He was heavy. His eyes dropped onto the picture frame on the rosewood coffee table which she placed just right there, so her legs could comfortably rest on its rim.

It was a wedding picture. He remembered the nagging photographer who kept instructing the already nervous couple to keep their chin up and head down. He could never comprehend how one was supposed to do so. She looked gorgeous, but there was nothing new about it, to an extent that it was now taken for granted by everyone around.

He remembered the wedding night, silence finally after hullabaloo the wedding has been. Both of them were tired to say anything so they lay cuddled together like a new born twins and she rested her eyes. He couldn’t sleep. He looked at her in disbelief the whole night. It was something he had imagined in his dream.

Morning broke the silence with the birds crackling upon their newly built nest. She lay snuggled upon his chest and he still couldn’t wink away for he was stalled by her beauty. Her fair skin kissing his, her lips pouted like a child, her lashes curled perfectly, with her hair swaying in the gentle breeze she slept on him peacefully.

The alarm startled him. He was hardly high, thanks to reminiscence. Sometimes memory drains you sober. It was 3 am. He checked the bright red digital clock, tapped it quiet. And walked into the bedroom.

The large bed now had company. A large stand stood beside it quenching a pale body of all the blood it needed. The room now looked like a medical warehouse with medicines all neatly stacked by there bedside lamp. A machine leaped tracing her pulse.

She lay there alone, still moaning in pain, her lips still pouted like a child. His fingers now stroked her hair, his lips kissed her forehead. He held her hand, frail she looked just the same to him. The blood dripped from the large bottle onto her vein. He could feel the needle sting her with every drop. She clinched his arm holding it tighter as she writhed in pain. It was hell.

His eyes brimmed up when he nodded yes to the nurse who sat there by the bed stand.
The nurse slowly walked to him placed her hand on his shoulder, but comfort was too far a though for such.

She was off life support.

Her eyes opened, she knew it was the end. She looked into his brimming eyes. Her pale green eyes lit up, as if whispering the words. She squeezed his hand harder for the last time. Her eyes said it again, as her pupil withdrew.

A tear rolled down his brown face, the noises in his head began to fade as his heart screamed its last silent scream.

There was silence.

Empty.

Silence.

Onto where angels sing...

2006-08-29T04:03:00.000-07:00

Do you remember?
The day we hiked up the hillock
Where the angels flew down,
And many a winged fluttered by
Brought out their harps to string
Like larks luring with love
They began to sing
And in a trance, hands locked
We finally let go in sync
Heads tilted we swayed to the song
Our hearts thumped love along
And in a kiss we wrapped our soul
And far withdrew the world, cold
Do you remember?
Oh do you remember, all along?

Today I hiked alone to the hillock
But no angel I could see
The wind was dry, I heard no melody.
Was it just fantasy?
Or did you mean so much to me?

I exist

2006-08-18T06:58:00.000-07:00

Yes, I will marry you.

Those were the words I said and with that his face brightened. He looked like a kid whose parents agreed to give him a new toy. New toy alright! I was shrinking inside.

I do

I muttered those words as a tear crossed my cheek. He was happy. He knew not why it rolled across my face.

He held my hand as we lay united in wed lock. He slept like a child gripping my hand as if I would leave if he let go. Little did he realize that I wasn’t even there to leave him. I lay awake for nights. Sleep did not show any mercy on this possessed soul.

I existed.

My eyes only closed to wake up in a dream. Something once pleasant that it haunts you forever. It is not the nightmares that often cause fear but reminiscence. I close my eyes to be one with the one. The one whose dark arms covered me, seeping with warmth; the one who let me cold now.

I close my eyes to remember the last day I felt alive. When kisses were reciprocated from the soul, when in the dark whirlpool of his eyes I let go.

I wake up to life.

I wake up to feel him grip my arm. Smile another fake smile not being able to respond every time he says “I love you.”

I exist.

I am an island

2006-08-08T04:06:00.000-07:00

The lights couldn’t stop flashing. It was hysterically noisy. I sat there on a bar stool feeling alive. That’s all I needed, a glass filled with intoxicating alcohol, no, not the sweet one, not the warm one but the stinging kind. Yea I felt alive!

My so called friends were swinging their hips on the overly crowded dance floor. A few were socially groping the ones who dint mind. A few were just blurting out their drunken existence. Where do I fit in? Nowhere I was just there away on the bar stool, with a glass of stinging alcohol in my hand feeling alive.

There was smoke everywhere. Partly caused by the dry ice and water combination which was supposedly release to liven the party but ended up annoying ones nostrils and partly because of the cancer sticks everyone seemed to suck onto.

Egregarious was the word. I have learned to be a social loner. The kind who embraces public solitude. The kinds you would see in every social occasion, the kinds who by being in system are still absent. We are the most widespread. We could be the next person you meet in a crowded bus stop or air kiss in the next fashion show. We are all the extroverts who you meet who live in their worlds, who keep who they are to themselves.

I am an island.

There he came by emerging from what seemed like a sweaty whirlpool of drunken people. “Come on lets dance” he said. I could only read his lips his words were drowned in the ear drum hostile music. I smiled and took his hand.

There we were your average couple dancing in one of city’s happening clubs. There was I, still in my own world and dancing in ours.

No questions asked

2006-08-06T13:56:00.000-07:00

It was then I rolled off his dark arms to see his face as we lay there timeless, like lovers painted across the Grecian urn, forever hungry and latent with reality. I looked up to see this dark skinned man, who held my hand through my woman hood and with his reassuring eyes hypnotized me to follow him.

Here was I in his bed, naked with nothing to hide looking at him still in a haze. It was a mixture of admiration and disbelief. He rolled over like a child, nestling comfortably. It was surreal, probably because the room décor was so.

It was a large empty room with rather minimal furniture and a large white mattress that was dropped right the middle of the room. The whole room was painted white, everything was white, the slim wooden table, the large flat screen TV, from the table lamp to the extra fluffy feather filled pillows. Everything was pale white except him, and there he slept like a baby wrapped in a white blanket with me staring in disbelief.

What will happen if someone knocked on the door? Or if someone called? Should I answer it? Will I get him into trouble? It dint matter then. For I wasn’t really thinking, just staring, it was like falling into a deep abyss but even the fall felt so beautiful.

He opened his eyes. Smiled sheepishly. Yawned like a child. He looked at me. There was just silence. I wrapped myself with the blanket as I stood up to look for my clothes. He walked out to grab a smoke. I gathered my stuff and left.

No questions asked.

No this was not a one night stand. Not for me. I had longed to be in his hands since the time I was sixteen. I had waited long, too long in many ways. So what if he was married. So what if his wife dint know. I loved him just the same.

I was 22 when I was forced into marriage, too young to realize what my parents had pushed me into. I did not know on the day I said I do that it was the only two words I would say for the rest of my married life. From laundry, to the kids, I had no choice but to chant those words.

I do.

A drunken sales representative was no source of solace or any comfort to a broken wife. I had decided that very day I could kill myself if this was all I was worth. But my memories kept me going, haunting me till I was obsessed with him and there was nothing more.

Nothing less.

He loved his wife. So he said as he slipped the wedding ring into his pocket and gently leaned to kiss my lips. I smiled and gave in to the much awaited kiss. I dint want to know. He dint have to prove to be good to me. It dint matter, for I loved him anyways.

As I hurriedly wore my clothes, I looked outside to see him stare into the sea. Smoking. He had worn his ring. It was over.

No questions asked.

A thousand candles burnt that night

2006-08-04T18:03:00.000-07:00

A thousand candles burnt that night
The flames danced and burnt the dark
Made her weep as smoke.
A thousand candles burnt that night
When he dark-skinned did bloom
Into a four armed idol that bowed
And prayed to the craving of flesh
When he dark-skinned amalgam she
For they now moaned and groaned
With salty sweat drops that seeped
Onto each other’s writhing bodies
Drenching each other with he or she

For united they lay, like animals slain
Unfathomed was lust, and hence slain

A thousand candles burnt that night
When morning waited by the aisle
Lest it should hinder darkness; Ah! Servile
Darkness wept a heap of smoke
And he and she, lay unite
A thousand candles burnt that night…

Tumbled down castle of glee

2006-08-03T02:59:00.001-07:00

Everyday I sat aside by the banks of gloom
Where the waters ran grey, lifeless and grey
Perched beneath the hovering black walls
That stood in mid air, suspended
I sat and pieced he together

No wind blew in that torrid land
No spring did bloom
Colors lay stuffed in a thimble
And I sat there, amidst the dusty plains
Shunning my heart, bleak, plain
As I pieced he together.

Card by card I drew from the case
Knowing well what I was to phrase
Haunted by the seas misty ways
I breathed by mistake
And there fell my duty
Along with all pieces I had built he
Tumbled down from gloom
Shattered spilling color on the ground

Colors traced my skin,
The walls trembled and writhed in the color
The ground gave in and there was color
The thimble let go and spluttered mirth
Ah the beauty, for I did breathe
I looked down and saw he, disparate
In tumbled down card castle I saw he.

The woman

2006-08-03T02:59:00.000-07:00

Another tear crossed her cheek. She was pale, pale due to her anemia partly and partly out of shock. The knife dripped blood onto the floor. It had formed a bloody puddle on her what looked like a brand new marble flooring. I guess in the corner of her head she had known why, she looked down to chubby fleshy palms, now blood stained. Her nails had seeped with blood. The blood however had not really dried on her nails, making it look like the last sanitary pad she threw away a few weeks back.

She remembered how her mood swings never bothered him. She now figured out why. For years she had spent her life bound in her house, scrubbing the dirt out of edges that settled marble floor with ammonia, cleaning the kitchen top with citric acid which made them look whiter, rubbing the filth out of the toilets with her old toothbrush… Indeed she was obsessed with cleaning.

Married at the age where there was no television, she was repulsed by the sound of it. She read very little and wrote even less. The grocery list was probably one of her literary accomplishments. She resorted to cleaning as a therapy. Something that kept her occupied while he was away, or drunk on the couch, and of course he dint mind her obsession for it took her away from him. Now, she dint dote on him and he never complained.

It was a chilly night. She had left to clean the kitchen top. Leaving him to entertain the guests. She never liked playing hostess but it was the greed for cleaning up later that made her accede to his party habits. It was late after the party, when she retired to clean the kitchen top. This would have taken a hour or two of scrubbing on to the kitchen top with a hard hog haired brush, and then a hour to make sure the acid is washed out with the soap. But today it took her ten minutes to figure out that she was out of citric acid. How could this be? She always checked her stores timely, she couldn’t understand it then.

She then decided to go to bed, and quietly walked up into her walk in closet to change, when she heard the bed creak. A mouse she presumed, and her greed to watch the mouse hide trembling in fear made her tiptoe silently as she flip opened her large wooden bedroom door.

She stood there. Like a statue stuck by lightning, only that it did not char her black but turned her pale as snow. I guess her blood rushed out of her soul. I looked up, I knew she was here; I quickly covered myself with her clean white blanket and rushed out of the other door. As I left a smile saw its way on my lips. I too like her had turned a deaf ear to his explanations which now grew faint as I moved towards my car.

She did not cry, it was as if she had turned into a living mannequin. He stood up and tried to explain, but she could only see his lips moving. The words were lost in between. She turned her head left, his face disgusted her. There she saw it glistening on top her bed stand next to her antique tiffany lamp shade. She picked it up.

He died that night. His guts spilled on the floor, as he gasped for his last breath through his semi slit throat. Soon his body withdrew.

A tear crossed her cheek finally as the knife dripped blood onto the floor. It had formed a bloody puddle on her what looked like a brand new marble flooring.

She dropped her chilly hands into her pockets, she felt something. It was my brooch she had found in the kitchen top next to knife rack. It had dawned upon her how the knife had found the bed stand.

She fell onto her knees. She was free. Her knees sloshed on the fresh blood. Her cheek on to her clean marble flooring. She closed her eyes, as the tears fell by. She was satisfied. Her eyes opened now, only to see the bottle of citric acid I had left below her bed. Beneath it was a single slipper which bore my initials, IS.

Why?

2006-07-30T06:03:00.000-07:00

Do you remember those days?
When we closed our eyes
And the sea lapped our breath
The salt soaked upon our skin
The sand bore our hearts heavy.
Do you remember?

Do you remember those days?
When the wind hissed warmth
And we lay one, smeared by
Thoughts that ought to be
Why do you forget now?

Do you remember the dream?
We painted on the sun
With a clear sky, and a sparkling tranquil sea
Why do you forget now?
For we lie here torn,
Under a dark sky and a stormy sea
Why?

Thank you

2006-07-24T05:56:00.000-07:00

Thank you dear friend
For today you have clipped my wings
And threw me into to the torrid saline sea
Thank you dear friend
For all ye hath yielded indeed

Thank you dear friend
For this brickbat and for the lashes
That tore my skin in heaves
Thank you dear friend

For today when I was squirming in pain
Calling out to nature’s mercy
You came at once, ah the penury!
I was frugal on a dark floor
Lips cracked, a parched throat
A tear fell across my face, when I saw thee
Did you feel sorry for such a nonentity?
Did you hear me beg for water?
Ungrateful wretch that I am, I fail to remember
That’s why you spat on me!
That’s why you spat on me!

Untitled- for dear old sa

2006-07-22T19:58:00.004-07:00

I shall sing a song for thee
A song about what I think of he
His orange whiskers make him no feline
His quiet introspections make him no prophet
He is neither stuffed with the lore of god
Nor by the downtrodden lie
He has marked himself in eternity
Two words in Latin’s creed
Two words that has marked he
And two words is “Its He”

He shall not understand the love of souls
Shall not say he was intimidated
Shall not learn to be less proud
Shall not leave his narcissistic means
But that is a good thing,
For I guess I am thus too, as he.

And to all who may say;

“Fie fie! Do not talk to him,
He is the devils incarnate
Fie fie! Do not like him
He is the devils own?”

I shall only say

“Darn thee, don’t you see?
We are just two saplings in the same field
Planted by the fallen angel
Waiting to be kissed by a lost life.
Waiting to be kissed by a lost life…”

devils entice

2006-07-22T19:58:00.003-07:00

Follow me, only me…
Blind to everything, follow me
Across this silver scapes
Where the colors flood
A paradise that’s were we belong
Where apples seeds and maple trees
Cover the sands
And serpents like me sing to thee

Follow me, only me...
Eyes sullen in this trance follow me
Lets you senses feast on a land
Where the breeze caresses your want
A island we shall go to
Just for you and me
And like the serpents dance
Let go and sway in this trance

Trust my words
I shall fulfill thee
Learn to be…
Just follow me …

To varun's verse "tell me o ye..."

2006-07-22T19:58:00.002-07:00

I hurry not by the piers ablaze
Torn are my wings, clipped by greed
I await another blissful remedy, such as ye
For fleeing thoughts fear the sunlight once
But by the waning moon the sit to kiss the dew

I have lived hastened by the carrion I feed upon
For no more lives can feel the freshness of the leaf
The smelting dew has severed the breeze
It too lies bereft, forgotten is the wholeness of life

Where dost thee entice me to be
Where dost thee ask me to be such leisurely
For no more the larks sweet voice I hear
No more my ears pine for melody
I have lost patience deceased with he,
And no more you shall be my remedy

March forth ye

2006-07-22T19:58:00.001-07:00

Oh stallion why do you stall?
Oh mighty stallion march forth
Today I cease to distend
Into a blurred vision of fate
Today I shall write my destiny
For today is thy day

Let your footsteps mark history
As onto another you bleed the weeds of envy
Let you winged fantasy yield
For you today shall be a Pegasus indeed

White as the snow yielding to purity
Astounded, unaffected by grief
March forth ye!
For today is thy day
And you shall bleat glory on humanity.

Alas if this could be...

2006-07-22T19:58:00.000-07:00

Alone she lived in the company of melancholy
Sheathed by the sorrow, a sprawling nonentity
He came from far way, kicked all the darkness away
Tumbling down the kingdom of the night
He couldn’t lie nor leave
Did they know if this could be?
Alas if this could be

Yonder in the kingdom where the sun dint see
Lived a wax princess, sheltered, protected from her fate
The sky was hence dark, locked by eternity
Till one day she was led by the serpent to a strange key
She fell from once trance onto another, the day she let he
Step into her once blue eyes, spirited, stunned by he
And there he stood, fiery, ablaze, burning with desire
Their eyes met, hearts cried the soul’s fate
For now she loved he, and he she
The wax princess stood before he, naked
Adorned with her feminity
The sun glared at she, gracing her of her beauty
Burning with desire, but weary for all that is to be
No longer could the kiss wait.
Their lips met and kissed fate’s painful greet
A tear for the first time melted across her face.

She knew it was time to leave
But her love crippled she
He knew this could murder she
He couldn’t lie nor leave
Did they know if this could be?
Alas if this could be.

The sun wept on the oceans breast
Bloody, red, for he killed she
And there he drowned himself for eternity
For they could never be!
Oh! Alas if this could be…
Oh! Alas if this could be…

Eve pleads

2006-07-12T03:59:00.000-07:00

Dear father I pray thee
For every growing tear I fear
Father I pray thee
Set me free

Tonight the dogs howl a welcome
As the midnight’s moon sheds her shame
She shall glisten upon your pagan girl
As she coevals this painful ritual

The crickets drum fate’s coda
As I shall find my inners efface
Today my gut shall bleed for ye
My voice shall bleat for ye
I shall dig onto my bloodied heart
Rip it off from my chest, sacrifice for ye

Ah father bless me
For today I shall be pariah to my own skin
Strolling away from words of duty
Lost in the wood sans fraternity
Fallen fruits shall entice me
Forbidden lust shall lurk by me
Ah enchants me a serpent, an apple, a lost greed
Ah oh might forgiver! Forgive me
For I am seed who lost her way
I am just a bloodied new born wailing astray
Forgive me!
Forgive me.

Broken Freedom

2006-06-26T07:09:00.000-07:00

Lost liberty sinks into me
As the moonlight seeps into skin
I soak here, draining me of you
Here where the winds play the flute
Whistling melancholy in the woods
I shall skin me of you
For this is what partition means

Reeking carrion that I am,
I shall strip myself of sense
For today I have lost my fragrant cloak
My marble smiles, my colorful masks
I have stripped true
I have been stripped of you

How are your hands? Oh angelic one?
Have the blood stains washed away
Into the ocean mist, where lust lurid behest
Held you close, whispered the news of my death
How are your hands? Oh dark knight?
Are they weary today, or will they greedily await
Another pair of wings to clip away,
Crippled angels bleed today
But pardon this fallen woman

For I have nothing to offer
Not a pair of wings to be broken.
Not a drop of blood to shed
Not even a tear.
Because today, I have stripped
Stripped naked, stripped my soul of you

A lone woman in parts shall bathe in the moonlight
For today every pore shall bleed the very last of you
In the crystalline dew drops I shall be consecrated free
Unbound, forever fleeing from misery.

The anathema

2006-06-10T22:33:00.000-07:00

Another scream surpasses me
Like a young maiden in maternity
Bearing the fruit of a man who doesn’t heed
I lay there, obstinate to breathe

Whilst the time that cried
My eyes for once has dried
I no more cry for he
For I lost him by the window sill
When I waited for him to return
Eternities have passed
And here I lay, obstinate to exist

The dark skies had hovered this abyss
Here where I lay alone, ribs exposed
Lips frugal, lurking with thirst
Bones interred with the price
To be paid for selling my soul to he
Here I lay, oh father!
Back bent for my father to laden
Waiting for one cumbersome rock after another
Waiting for your hands to skin me
Oh father! Why have you forsaken me?

Oh father! Bless me!
For I lay here deceased
An anathema fallen from the skies.

Caged

2006-05-24T06:36:00.000-07:00

I ranted! I raved!
I screamed through the walls that held me
I craved for an answer
Scratching my nails across the wall
Begging only to know
I fell silent
I cried
I sobbed silent tears as years went by
I stumbled on to laughter
I laughed, hysterically like a mad woman
Then this laughter turned to rage
Anger then left me to crave
One turmoil after another I strolled
Only to realize,

Destiny has thrown me in to a cage
A cage called you…

No more I shall be alone
No more I shall be free
For my freedom has paid its price
And here I shall lie, like a storm in teacup

For indeed, destiny has thrown me in to a cage
A cage called you…

Waiting...

2006-05-15T03:27:00.000-07:00

Does this stinky vessel
Carry you to me?
Oh! Does this sail
Open for my breath?

Should I stand here alone,
By the seashore wait for ye
Or should I walk away
And never think of ye

Like cetacean claws
This chilly wind hurts my pores
Where are you my love?
Take me to place where
I can sing my song!

Splash after another
I let these salty waves
Bleed over me…
All for the hope that
You shall come back to me

Tell me dear one…
Whisper in my ears please

Should I stand here alone,
By the seashore wait for ye
Or should I walk away
And never think of ye

we

2006-05-15T03:25:00.000-07:00

With every sweat drop
Your arm whispered to mine
A thousand kisses, unfathomed by time
I could not sleep,
I could not speak
Lost in the trance of your eyes
I let it be

The gentle sun dance of warmth
Oozed my skin
I felt enveloped by thee
Such as when rain takes my soul
Away for a undisclosed duet between our souls
I let it be
I let it be

Across my bosom I felt flowers of fear bloom
Eyes closed, lips sealed with yours
As we unraveled beauty of my soul
I stood silently in a fantasy sans melancholy

This is what I have prayed for me
This is what I had asked of He
And when it happened
Dumbfounded, teary-eyed
In a my painful ecstasy
I let it be
I let it be.

Walking over you

2006-05-15T03:24:00.000-07:00

Leaves flooded my foot
As the crushed tender
Withering away.
Dry leaves underneath my feet

I have feigned to walk away
And you have let me
I have lied I wouldn’t stay
And you have let me

Today as the wind blows whirls
Around my curls, as it churns
What was inside waiting for the storm
To stir what played dead
I bleed

But this bleeding shall go unnoticed
Just as ever tear drop I hid
Alone this scarlet shall reign my pale skin
I shall not notice too
For I bleed only if I say I do!

My eternity

2006-05-15T03:22:00.000-07:00

On these lonesome leaves blossomed he
Gentle like a flower, tender like a child’s feet
Yonder by these church yard gates
I heard him sob gentle
He earned to be, my child, my eternity

On these birches spoke he
Whispering light across these dark woods
Amidst the wildered rainforest
I heard him call me
He earned to be, my lover, my eternity

On these colorful spring’s flowers sprang he
Like a drop of dew waiting to be kissed by the sun
Among the fresh yearned lilies
I heard him caress me
He earned to be, my soul mate, my eternity

The girl who cried wolf

2006-05-08T03:29:00.000-07:00

Long lived a shepherd girl,
Who used to fend for her sheep.
In her tattered clothes,
Onto where the grasses may lead
She marched, staff in hand,
She marched not knowing of lustful men,
Of grievous wolves, who looked upon her indeed.

Forget not her brother told her
Forget not that world warned her
But naïve as she was, she walked blissfully
Playing playful lies as tunes and dint realize
What she had beckoned on herself, unknowingly

She fell in love with a mighty knight
On the way, the holy way to the green paradise
He too told her that she was right
That they were meant to be, and let themselves unite
Together they walked many a paths of green
Till one such day he had to leave

A vivid tale did the story-teller write
Of this girl who lost her pride
But lest did he know that such a girl was ever alive
She sinfully cried, let her tears speak
But none did believe that it wasn’t as he wrote
She cried she weaned at the wicked world

And the blessed prince began to ride
From a far away land, to save his love
His only fledge, his forsaken soul battered to hers
He began to ride, and cried with every strife

Lest did he know, that a evil wolf
Half man half beast had found her zest
And held the helpless girl close to his chest
As he clawed her breast
Her beating heart did pound,
She screamed for help
Wolf! She cried
As he sucked her blood that once fled
This hot body that shall soon wither

The prince did arrive to see from bushes
He heard her voice, and saw between the branches
He saw he lie between a mans legs
Fumed in pain, believed the storyteller
Oft with his life, his sword gratified

And all the sheep did see
A cold dead girl between the legs of a beast
Half man, half wolf, that greedily ate what now remained
With the last bleat could the girl
Say she was pure, take me away?
If she did will the beast listen?
Or will the prince who saw her the way he did?

The whore's song

2006-05-05T00:22:00.000-07:00

My cart shall drive through this broken alley
This is where the whores live
Luring men as they pass by
With their red dyed lips, and slender waists
Swinging their bodies, trance like
This is where the whores live

It has rained today, the slushy sand is repulsive
The whores don’t seem to mind
With their gaudy skimpy clothes ankle deep in mud
They shall raise their hands inviting
Wink their eyes, with their artificial curls calling
Their nylon hair attachments, hang loose
And seeping wet are their painted toes in slush
For this is where the whores live

My cart shall roll down this chaos
Suddenly one among them,
Shall freeze these altercations
Soon I shall bed her,
In a lost red light of a broken lampshade
On a tattered rattling bed, naked, painful
She will not look as beautiful
A pile of money I shall throw on her face
For all its worth, where the whores live

Haste no more, I shall never see truth in her eyes
As she calls upon me, for I shall be a mere prey.
Her beauty as her bait she shall fish for me
For paper happiness, a notes shower for survival
Such is the love of many,
Do we call them all whores?
If we do, then there are many more here
Than that broken alley where the whores live.

Ouch!

2006-05-02T19:58:00.000-07:00

Every flaccid day passes by
As we turn into parasites
We suckle on attentions breast
Hope that none sees thus
Pretend to work for art
When all we need is wow! How smart!
What are we?
What are we?

Why have we stooped so low?
To kiss the feet of what
We pretend not to have
To be proud, yet bend down faking modesty
To be glad, yet pretend it’s not cared
To be craving fame, and pretend not to do the same

I have just one word for us

OUCH

Ouch! This ought to hurt that bad!

Uprooted - Part II

2006-05-01T05:31:00.000-07:00

Did you wake up today
To find what has been left?
Did you wake up today
To find your mother dead?

She left you her old mansion
Her gold and pearls for your wife
She left you her dying heart
Knowing it shall soon be forgot

Ah does it hurt now?
Does it really?
Oh for such a savage beast too
Sometimes has to bleed

Ah does it hurt now?
To find out you killed her?
For once I heard her say
That you kept her locked away.

Why does it hurt son?
Why does it hurt now?
For the years she spent alone
Nurturing a beast that would kill her
She didn’t know
What had fallen on her.
She didn’t know
That shall soon behead her!

Uprooted - Part I

2006-05-01T05:29:00.000-07:00

Do you remember this?
This scald flesh you used to feed on.
Do you remember;
Your mother’s breast?

As child you suckled
Your teeth onto her skin
Your life as it began
Was hence parasite-like nourished

Do you remember this?
This torn opening you came from
Do you remember;
Your mother’s womb?

As her soul screamed in pain
There you were, bloodied
Born, flooding vain
Tearing open what nurtured you.
Born hence
Born; vain

Its time to wake up prodigal son
Time to crack your knuckles
And scream out in vain
For it is too late today
Too late to remember what was blamed on fate
Too late to realize that your mother died today
Too late to realize that you her son
Became a murderer today
Became a murderer today.

TO GOD- A slave's retort.

2006-04-27T05:41:00.000-07:00

Well this is all I am
This is all I have become
And you my master had been cruel indeed
Whip lash upon another
On my babies feet
I still hear him cry, still see him bleed
You have hurt me enough
You have satisfied your lust and greed
Times have changed and I ask to be free
I ask to be free

Bygone remains my prayer
To worship thee
Bygone remains my prayer
To praise you indeed

You can take away my life
But my faith shall restore me
With every whip lash I shall only bleed
For this scarlet craving you will later plead

But time has come when I ask to be free
A disgust turns to satire, it grows within me
I laugh a laugher for years to surpass me as
One last time I shall cite the prayer imposed upon me

Kiss me oh master
Let me kiss your feet
In this broken day of love
You shall own me
You shall have me
You shall glorify my presence
By your magnificent seat.

For no more will you hear this words ring
As no more I shall lay crouched back
As you tear my angel’s wing!
No more ….
For I ask to be free
For I ask to be free.