Friday, 9 October 2015


He said-“Drink!”
So I drank the thick syrup he gave
At first it was sweet but slowly it turned bitter
But I did not mind
Because my love for him was insanely blind
Every day he brought that drink with him
Garnished with his charming smile
His smile by dusk turned into a miscreant one
Filling the night with my shrill cries
By dawn he’d say I’m his kryptonite;
Overly exaggerated affection, disguised neatly
Laced lies and promises as hollow as god’s O
Would play in his favor every time
Slowly, subtly he poisoned my spirit
At first with the thick sweet richness
Of his seductive voice which
Turned into a sadistic hungry howl by twilight
I surrendered myself to his evil ways
As the disparaging grew stronger each day
I found myself in a cage whose key
I myself had smashed far away

Like a slave I served my master
And like a leech he bled me dry
Now nothing is left of me
I’m just another shadow that
Wanders under the open sky

Celestial Love

My darling you do know right?
That I love you in spite of every ‘in spite’
And forever would love you this way
I know you’d wonder-Why did I leave then?
Well sweetheart, have you ever seen
The sun and the moon together?

We always believed that I
was your apple sauce
And you my pork chop
Either went missing
The delight shall remain incomplete

But love, you do know it hit both of us
How weak was the foundation of this structure
Infallibility is not something each
Relationship can afford
With which I perfectly agree

But only if it were for errors committed
Honestly in love
This moon would have defied
The force of gravity to reach his sun
Even when it meant burning his identity

My ashes would also have
Whispered your name girl
If only our attempts had been honest
Just for once

For the eyes drifting upwards
Did see us together at times
But hon, never were we intertwined 

If only our apologies had some substance
If only our love were more than just pleasure
If only it were based on truth rather than fraudulence
If only we had recognized OUR relevance

I’ll not waste much of your precious time
End I shall this sorrowful ballad
With these final parting lines-
“That every night this moon re-lives
The vivid memory of
The light radiated from his sun
That helps him hide the bruises, ugly scars
Dark holes in his soul from
The world’s gaze

Shining brightly every crepuscule
Following a similar phenomenon
As that of the celestial sun- giving its light
From millions of miles away to its celestial moon
The distance in no way affects the connection they share

Cupcake, we both know that the moon
Will never have light of its own
 It is the sun that will forever be the source
And the miles will forever exist
And must be maintained
To prevent the breaking of hearts beyond repair
Prevention is a necessity
Since the sound of such an apocalypse
Might remain unheard
Receiving none's attention and solace
For sound does not travel in space”


Monday, 31 August 2015


Sometimes when you read a verse
The words hit your soul hard
They make you wonder all night
“How can someone fabricate such a piece of art?”

The feeling each syllable holds
Gets carved into your heart
Words inspiring you to weave some of your own
Which might cause the ordinary populace to feel your warmth

With excitement flooding
You pick the quill only to wonder
Would your quill succeed in
Re-creating the magic
You recently witnessed?

You drop the quill
Not because of self-doubt
But because you just know
That some magic tricks only belong
With svelte magicians
And sometimes you yield sweet joy
In being touched by others
Just witnessing greatness…

Thursday, 6 August 2015


A pit that will drown you is Pessimism
Those with glass houses occupying 10,000 acres
Of land are often found saying
A pit that is self-immolating
It can kill; make you struggle hard for breath
That is what Duncan, my next door neighbor
A life coach preaches

But for me it is the reality
The only thing seeming right in
This world quite wrong
Sanguinity might be beautiful but is unrealistic
Vineyards with grapes ripened and juicy
Mock my very existence, reminding me of
Felicity that I could possibly not conquer

Prima donnas , dressed like Monroe
Riding in their Porsche
Who prefer Sinatra’s ‘Fly me to the Moon’
Over ‘Only the Lonely’
Who speak of happiness and all things optimistic
When their souls are broken beyond repair
Contained with mercenary that wise don’t own
Hypocrisy flows through their demeanor (odium intended)

I for one cannot be colored
When my existence reminds only of blackness
If the touch of sunlight on my bare arms
Does not give me peace
Why should I pretend to be serene?
Why should I hide these dark
And morbid thoughts that turn into ink
Filling pages and pages
Covering the pages with fancy prose
Following inappropriate juxtaposition

Jeopardy it is as a few ignorant scholars
Tend to overlook these pages
Pages tattered like my soul
Highly contentious these words are considered
By those whose wisdom is shallow
Silence succumbs, making me
Wonder how terribly might speech
Sabotage their paradigm image

But these fancy unstitched stanzas
Sometimes free sometimes blank poetry
Unpolished proses bear the harsh truth
That this heart holds 

Monday, 13 July 2015

You are who you believe yourself to be
so don't think ill of yourself
think positive and things would
fall perfectly in place.....
follow your dreams, they know the way