poetry

Mess

Love was a mess

A mess we made on the bed

Hair strands, broken nails and

Raindrops and blood

All things now us

Potions creating life are now

Stains on the bed

The empty space that now holds your face

Devoid of expression

A faint smile

Unkempt curls on your head

Wet eyes

And a pink strand between your lips

That belongs to me

Clothes thrown across the room

The mirror covered in mist

Our names written in dancing letters

The air carrying the fragrance

Of all the things that lay beside us now

We could have been anywhere now

In this moment

But we are just here

Making a mess of love

poetry

When I am about to die…

When our house is on fire

And there’s no way to get out

I give up and take a corner

Crawl beside me and recite

Poems of love and longing

Poems written by you and me

When cancer eats me

And doctors tell you

I am counting days down

Sleep beside me

And tell me stories

Tales of urchins and dolphins

Tell me how we met

When I am sinking to death

And there’s no way you can save me

Hold my hand

Sing me songs

Songs of the Lord and life beyond life

Sing me a love song

Or heck! Make up one for us

You see love, I am not afraid of death

I am just afraid of dying alone

poetry

Cats and the moon

We crashed on the mosaic floor on the terrace,
on the night of the pink moon.
It was not late at night just 20:30 hours;
But we were sufficiently intoxicated,
From the party, we snuck out of
To watch the moon.

We traced the moon
until came a dragon, and
He swallowed the moon.
The moon slipped through its stomach to the tail.
The baby elephant held the dragon’s tail,
but he let the moon rise above his head;
But in the end, an evil blanket covered the moon again.

It was a serene summer night,
Nothing moved except the dragon in the sky
And my hair strands due to the occasional breeze.
The dragon left for another moon
As he turned his gaze
and looked at my eyes covered by a netted veil.

“Look at the moon”, I pointed to the sky;
He said, “You are my only moon tonight.”
I held his face and pushed his curls away from his eyes,
His eyes were as cute as buttons on his shirt.
His white shirt with blue dots.
“Hi meeewww”, he smirked,
No one but him knew, that I was still called
Meeewwww.

I was dressed like one,
In a black dress that fit and flared
With black stockings covering the rest
Of my legs.
My cat-eared hairband ended in the netted veil that covered my eyes.
He drew my nose with whiskers,
While I closed my eyes
And giggled like a happy girl,
He held me firm till he was done.
I messed his stache
to look like whiskers and now
I was the Persian
and he was my rogue street cat.

I unbuttoned his shirt,
His shoulders glistened in the moonlight.
I ran my fingers through the dimples
As he held my face to show me the sky
And a translucent dragon swallowed my moon this time,
Then came the mean catfish
To eat my moon again.

My lips reached for his lips
Our kiss was soft and subtle, teenage-ey,
Not much tongue;
Just kisses that taste like
Candies and
Smell like strawberries.
Kisses that feel like
unicorns flying in the night sky.

“Meeeeeeewww” he whispered as he broke away from the kiss
I beamed like a sky lit with a million stars
And his eyes glistened
As his slender manicured fingers ran
Through the center of my face .
This felt like I was back in my hometown
When I was a child,
As the sugar rush flowed to the brain
I felt the same happiness I felt.
As a schoolgirl that
Runs home for summer vacations.

I smother his face with mine,
We both rise
To look around for a while,
Whispering meeeewwww into each other,
As he holds me
Around my waist
And I hold his neatly moisturized neck.
The sea is still at the distance,
The dockyard has a colorful ships
Anchored to the shore.
As I crane from the terrace into the horizon
He holds me from behind.

He unzips the hold of my dress
Goes a long way down,
As goes to sleep the town
The faint sound of the train engine
Adds to the rhythm
As he kisses my neck
And I stand still and watch as time passes us by.
He slides my dress off my shoulders
As he turns me around
Kisses my eyes over the veil
Before he yanks me closer.
Our masks slide through our skin
Until we are just us,
Without sham or pretense.

He holds me close
And I hold him near to my heart
Our hearts beat through the quiet of the night
Tomorrow we’d be him and me.
But tonight we were just two cats making love
Under the moonlight.

poetry

The best thing

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to place one word after another
Bead them together
Wishing it’d make us feel better
When it’s done
As if these words give birth
A new lease of life

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to let you go
So you may one day find your
Way back to me

The best thing to do at this moment
Is choose my words
Intricately like picking beads of different
Sizes and colours
To weave a necklace
As if the necklace either adds to my life
Or just chokes me to death

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to let you go
So you may one day find your
Way back to me

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to hope that you really buy
These words
That stem like mini explosives from the
Root of my throat
As a parting gift.
Hoping this is not a goodbye
At least not yet.

The best thing to do at this moment
Is to let you go
So you may one day find your
Way back to me

poetry

My villain is a good man

The villain of my story is a good man
He despises the evil
He’s a man who’s not aware
That he is the evil
He reads himself on paper every day
“Oh Lord” he goes on to sigh
My poor villain
doesn’t realize they are talking about him
He doesn’t have a clue
For my villain is a good man
He helps every passerby
Goes out of his way, to see that they have a life
Give sermons against all the bad
he does
For he is oblivious
He says do not kill
He kills thousands in a single breath
He says do not lie
He is not capable of the truth
He says, disowns violence
He hires goons to beat up his wife
But my villain is a good man
He has his reasons
A strong validation
For the guilty deserved to be punished
He believes
And he punishes
For he loves them first
And he derides them next
My villain is a God on earth
He wants to heal
He loves to help
If you are lonely, he is like your self
But you have to worship him, you have to bow
For the villain is a good man
and he deserves his prize
My villain wants to be rich
to help the poor
He has empathy for someone
incapable of a feeling toward another
It’s his universe, and you are just a creature
A good man, my villain
He weeps for the dead, the same dead he
once mocked, he wished to kill
But he despises tyrants
He says their tears are watercolors
Now he sheds tears of blood
He doesn’t meet his flock
He graces them with his grandiose presence
He says “My people, I have been a victim”
His folk naive bears his wrath
Now he’s the hero they love to loathe
But my villain is a good man
For he believes so

poetry

My Body Remembers You

My body writes it all down

Notes every time she comes across another;

Every scratch of the nail against her bare back

Every flutter of your lashes

It remembers all of it in flashes,

Every tooth that dug into the lip

Drawing streams of red,

Every clutch of her waist

Trespasses and passing touches

Each whispered word on her earlobes

Every tug of her strands

If he is lucky she lets him inside her mind.

She relishes, savors the taste of him

But sometimes, she throws up

every cruel word he says,

He may not know her

But she remembers his hand print

His shoe size between her breasts

When he wandered through the valley

That connects her to generations that

Have passed on

She remembers the oppression,

The suppression against the walls that they built for her

She fights back, she caves in

She remembers every minute touch on her skin

Every aah that has risen from deep within,

She sees every look he throws at her

as a piercing glance that tears through her chest,

Sometimes stops at her breasts.

Some look through her eyes

He sees her light making love to her dark

He radiates the glow and he feels the burn.

She remembers how he smells

She inhales from him

every lease of life.

Her heartbeat against the side of his face

It doesn’t beat for him

It’s running it’s own race.

She writes it down

When you intrude,

As you enter the sanctum

and the sacristy, when you touch

Every forbidden holy space,

She only feels as much

As she allows herself to

She’s alive like a hurricane

She’s dead at times too.

She shudders, at times she roars

Lets it be but sometimes she scrubs

Her clean,

Banishing you from her zone;

I let her decide her vibe

For the body, they say, never lies

poetry

Sid

My son Sid

His Thomas kept falling in the ditch

O’er and o’er and o’er again

He wakes me up at 6

“Mama, Thomas fell in the ditch”

He says no good morning

No good night, no good day

Just Thomas falling in the ditch

He screams at my every touch, like

His body has third degree burns

My child, mine but not yet

He holds his Thomas engine and runs

Around the house

Whole day, in circles

Like my relationship with him

For all the vocabulary he’d inherited from me

All he retains:

“Thomas fell in the ditch”

I wish I could save Thomas

For once,

But I guess, Thomas has to keep falling

In the same ditch

At least it makes Sid happy