Tag: love

  • Lapis Lazuli

    I wish I could be the colour blue
    Not sapphire or cerulean
    But something old
    And something new
    As if waves of the ocean
    Are carrying pieces of the sky
    Moonlight and stardust
    Dipped in indigo dye
    A deeper azure
    A cobalt that will fade
    Part turquoise, part teal
    Your shade, your shade…

  • Last Card of the Castle

    It’s a terrible tragedy you see
    To be away from you
    The farther you are
    The fainter I get
    The harder you hold
    The longer I wait
    Tonight the edges of my soul are clear
    And I can see my heartbeats through my chest
    They come and disappear
    They pulse and fade
    Alive and dead
    Red over red

    I can hear the wall clock
    Can hear the teeter tatter of the seconds
    Turn into the silent hour
    An hour without you
    Then one and half, then two
    I am mesmerised in the act of missing you
    Part proud, part desperate
    Juggling memories and dreams
    Promises and themes
    Like Picasso and his paint
    Rhyming his story and history
    Balancing the devil and the saint

    I close my eyes now and then
    And hold you to my chest
    Close enough to collapse
    Onto myself
    First in tears, followed by laughter
    Then silence much after
    Dents in my denial
    Rust on my reins
    I falter like a colt
    And stand still until it pains
    Deep enough for my marrow
    To call out your name
    Madly enough for my mind
    To believe that you indeed came

    The night is falling fast
    And I am writing against the flow
    To reach the side of your shore
    Where you await in your pink bow;
    That tiara of innocence
    Which broke me
    Slowly apart
    Till I lost all of my aces
    To the hand of the queen of heart

  • Searching For Your Name

    So, I just want to wait and watch;
    You are driving me slowly mad
    Like the purple in your hair clips
    My soul is right kind of sad
    Ink on my puffed up lips
    I kissed your poetry tonight
    Blood on my fingertips
    From the verses I had to fight
    Now people they come and claim
    That they know you as well as me
    They may have tasted one drop sometime
    But don’t know the depths of this sea
    And I have fallen and I am falling
    Hand me the hem of your chiffon dress
    And I have called and I am calling
    To surrender my pieces of chess
    For it’s you who hold me now
    Gravity is not part of the game
    Let go and you shall see just how
    I get lost in the search of your name
    So, I just want to wait and watch;
    You are driving me slowly mad
    Like the purple in your hair clips
    My soul is right kind of sad

  • The Myth of Silence


    I wrote on paper
    And was called a poet
    I wrote on walls
    And was asked to wait
    On a chair nailed to the floor
    In a cold, cold white room
    Where the only sound was of my breath;
    No different from a writer’s womb
    So I sat in the pleated emptiness
    With a glass of water left to precipitate
    Watching the walls seduce me to sadness
    When the pendulum peeled an eight
    And in came this ladybug green
    Glasses carved on the tip of her nose
    She had grey pad and a bald blue pen
    And a red ring in the shape of rose
    ‘Ahem, ahem’ She said ‘Ahem, ahem’
    And I coughed and cleared my throat
    She looked at me for a second
    Then this is what she wrote:
    ‘The subject is kind of rude
    He has no manners so to speak
    He sits like a beggar on his throne
    A man of power sold in sale to the weak’
    It made no sense, nonsense, I tell you
    For she was no poet for god’s own sake
    She was too tidy to have chaos inside
    And that is how I knew she was fake
    ‘The subject now seems annoyed
    He is watching me with furrowed brows
    As if I have stolen something of his
    And now pretending that everyone knows’
    Ah the audacity of this usurper
    Who claims my kingdom as her own
    I have pieces of paper in my pocket
    And a dozen verses to loan
    ‘The subject is trying to smile
    And I am feeling all sick and ill
    There is wrong with his mind
    He says naught but I can feel’
    She knows nothing of my madness
    Of how it hurts to sit and smile
    For only writing on the wall
    I pretend to die once in a while
    ‘The subject has tears in his eyes
    Maybe my saying something will change
    But what should I say at this point
    That will not make him seek revenge’
    The fool, the fool is writing
    And what a caricature does she draw
    Looking from behind a pair of glasses
    She writes what she thinks she saw
    ‘The subject does not comply
    To any form of my treatment
    So must be treated in harsher terms
    Or in an asylum must be sent’
    Oh I did snatch her pen and pad
    And wrote down my own choice
    Before you judge what others have said
    First make sure if they even have a voice…

  • Make A Wish

    The sky begins
    At the edge of your smile
    And I am the star
    You chose to find it
    Willing to fall
    To leave it all
    Just to be the reason
    Behind it
  • The Silver In My Song

    The broken flowers they fell at my feet
    Gold and silver, ebony and peat
    And I knew not where this road may lead
    Will I find in the end what I need
    And I need...
    A silence in the shape of the sun
    A bit of violence with the face of a nun
    And someone who won't turn and run
    When I face down the barrel of a gun
    But hear now...
    I don't have a penny to pay as your price
    I spend my nights cold and filled up on rice
    And I know my heart is my own greatest vice
    Always afraid that my love won't suffice
    You can see...
    Out there those houses of princes and kings
    Whilst I can only shelter you neath my own wings
    And I have no diamonds to tie our rings
    Just the hollow of my chest to rest your sufferings
    So beware...
    Of my sweet words that may seduce and sway
    They only ache so to take you away
    And keep you happy come what it may
    We will be children till our hair turn grey
    But I know...
    This poem seems just a practice in rhymes
    And does not cover the cost of past crimes
    But I shall spend every penny and all of my dimes
    For our today and the end of our times
    So...
    Never forgive if you want but don't forget
    The magic of those moments we met
    And I wonder if it's my heart you now so hate
    But wasn't our love written by the hands of the fate?
    Thus I say…
    The broken flowers they fell at my feet
    Gold and silver, ebony and peat
    And I knew not where this road may lead
    Will I find in the end what I need
    And I need…
    You
  • The Mist of My Mornings

    Why cry about things you can laugh at
    Said the quote on my bathroom mirror
    It wasn’t funny
    I thought
    And smiled to myself

    The nights have been short
    Or perhaps it was I who has been stretched thin
    Between two impossibilities
    Of being here and being there
    An almost everywhere
    Every thought of mine now
    Feels like a bullet through the brain
    The very last; and in a way everlasting
    But new ones creep out
    Out of this philosophical yeast
    Growing in the dark keeps of my mind
    Nurtured with cold sweat
    And self taught paralysis

    The toothpaste tastes funny
    Like old age
    These are those days of winter
    When sadness feels warm
    Like a hug or a cup of coffee
    Something to snuggle into and fall asleep
    Sadness; the elixir of a dying man
    Sadness, yes
    And melancholy (Pretty word)
    Made of me and the unholy:
    Thoughts, dreams, desires
    Snails creeping on a wet wire

    I remember a time
    When I dreamt of being a dog
    And lie on the carpet
    Of fallen leaves
    Dogs can dream, can’t they? (Yes)
    And so I dreamt of being a dog
    To come full circle
    A perfection
    My being complete
    A zero

    The wind from the window
    Touches my face
    And I blush;
    Love is in the air
    Or is it despair?
    How can one compare?
    When being utterly unaware…
    (I rhymed on purpose
    For they say poetry must taste like a painting)
    I gargle and gag
    There is blood in my spit
    A rose line
    Branching out like a symphony
    Clarinet and timpani
    Violins and bassoons
    Bach and Beethoven
    Mozart who died too soon
    The tap turns
    A thunder
    The tap turns
    All silence

    Good morning




  • December

    My finger on the window 
    Made a rainbow in the dust
    And I could see my watered down mirage
    Gasping in surprise
    Laughter; a dry mist
    From the flesh of my throat
    As if my heart knew the humour
    Was the one that I wrote
    (I wonder if the people sitting at the table
    Can hear, discern, decode, confirm)

    I should have worn socks
    It’s cold;
    The floor, the walls, the ceiling
    The curtains, the furniture, the feeling
    Should I wear it now?
    My toes are already numb
    And the ankles ache
    Yes, a mistake
    To wear it now
    Better to regret not wearing it at all
    Than knowing the comfort I lost
    It won’t solve
    Anything
    As such

    It is December
    I do not remember the last December
    Or the one before
    All the memories of past winters
    Are glued together
    Indecipherable
    I was alone then
    In more ways than one
    Incomplete, high strung
    To come easily undone
    But not anymore…

    She came from far
    The horizon was her home
    I knew her reflection
    Was same as my own
    Yet the ocean between us
    This sapphire separation
    Was daunting, nigh haunting
    With adrift ships and lost anchors
    And mad sailor men upon the shore
    And lighthouses blinking
    “Advance No More”

    We sell paper boats now
    Made of torn poetry
    And write poems upon onion peels
    And ripe tomatoes
    It’s beautiful
    The fragrance of homemade chicken
    And her smile
    And that nodding head
    And the dancing waist
    She is happy
    So am I
    This December
    So am I…
  • Found

    And the world
    It is falling
    And there are no secrets
    Left to share
    I am found
    Someone’s calling
    And all I need is
    To be there
    So it’s a goodbye
    Everyone
    And I shall see you
    When the summer’s sun
    Is finally won
  • Razzmatazz

    Dry twigs wrestle the wind 
    Shadows burn on the ground
    Here I stand in the center
    And the world turns around
    With yellow leaves laughing
    White sand dyed brown
    In Nameless nothingness
    I named a pronoun
    All of me
    All of me
    At the bottom of this sea
    Sand dunes shrunk to seashell
    Like past framed into memory

    I watch dazed morning
    Walk drunk upon the shore
    Where my footsteps on the sand
    Leave footprints no more
    As if all of my life
    Was a mirage from the start
    A mirror holding together
    A man falling apart

    All of me
    All of me
    At the bottom of this sea
    In the sky a sun wrinkled
    And stars breaking free
    Am I drowning
    Am I drowning
    Should I breathe this darkness and lay
    As a dead man in a dying womb being fed everyday
    The same old desires
    The same old silver songs
    The same old praise and promises
    That nothing would go wrong

    And only if only
    I could no longer be here
    Be a past that never happened
    And a future always near
    But never coming together
    With the rhythm of our heart
    An end that is unending
    A beginning that never did start
    You and me, you and me
    The Sand and the sea
    Away forever
    Our little infinity

    The edges of the world
    Like pages from a play
    A Recurring razzmatazz
    Occurring everyday
    The blue’s beats
    Jarring jazz
    And ballads on the way
    Razzmatazz, razzmatazz
    As Liquored lovers say
    “You be thought and I the mind
    To reminisce and remind
    That love is not litmus
    To be tested everyday
    Let it flower, let it grow
    Be careful what you sow
    For the soil takes it all
    Your flight and your fall
    And it’s the way of the crowd
    To take as truth what is loud
    While our love is all silence
    Strong sans the violence
    So take care of the petals
    They are flesh and not metal
    And do not look for reflection
    Till the water; it has settled”

    Dry twigs wrestle the wind
    Shadows burn on the ground
    Here I stand at the edge
    And the world is not round
    Black leaves moan
    Under heels; trodden down
    In Nameless nothingness
    I named a pronoun
    All of me
    All of me
    At the bottom of this sea
    Falling nowhere
    With two skies above me
    All of me
    All of me
    At the bottom of this sea
    Fading in the distance
    Once man now memory