With their smacked lips,
and moving hips,
they barge me with queries,
only if they knew how hard it stung.
It's hard being stagnant,
days spent being poignant.
They think I'm a marvel to behold,
while all I need is some one to hold.
All prospects seem astray,
all evaporating in the hotness of May.
Wish I could tell them that I'm lost,
that even I have no plans.
Plethora of what ifs and what nots
avalanche on me like bullet shots.
Wish if I could feel something,
anything except death.
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 9:44 PM UTC
I'm unsettling like the wind,
but I yearn for you to chase me,
behold me as if I can never be yours,
I just want you to be with me...
My lashes flutter like butterfly wings,
on these tear swept papers.
They're black as my soul,
I just want your love to let them fly.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 10:43 AM UTC
Numbers can't count the number of times
I look back to see if you are behind.
Words can’t word the love I have for you
can’t you see it in my eyes?
I must be a great success,
as I rise amidst my defeat to impress you.
Only if you looked at me with those caffeine intoxicated eyes,
only if you had shown the brownness of love,
I’d have been in love with you just the same,
Or maybe a bit more...
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 11:41 AM UTC
Streaks of your hair
left strokes of our memories.
Golden yellow morning light,
can't make me feel alright.
You buried your head
in the groove of my neck.
You whispered secrets and love,
made me lose my head.
A smile got wasted,
in the realization of reality
that our time was a dream wasted,
and we - pathetic dead lovers.
Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 1:14 AM UTC
Sometimes you cry so much that u forget y u cried,
sometimes you talk too much that u forget where u started.
So dear one, I have learned to tug in my tears,
and not let 'em tear me apart.
I suppress my heart,
cuz if I open it, I'll be torn apart!
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 10:47 AM UTC
Brown leaves falling from brown trees
reflect how free the tree feels,
to let loose it’s brown leaves.
Leaves, they were green once,
lush green like the green that made parrots,
so green that, the leaves were thought to be evergreen.
Light danced off the leaf tops,
swirling and whirling, the music was so sick
so placid, they thought it would be non stop.
The symphony paused a day,
fright enveloped the tree,
emerald leaf showed patches of brown,
like the ashy clouds in the blue sky on a sad day.
Before time knew, the light brown went on to be dark brown,
it greyed like the greying hairs of a pantaloon,
it shrinked like the shrinking smiles of the old,
the green leaves of mine cringed and cracked.
The break was too hard,
the air of life did support the brown life,
gravity can't be defied and so it lies,
just there like a lost life.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 12:59 AM UTC
We are paper people,
living in paper towns.
Crumbled, torn and thrown away.
The winds of a winding life
takes us hither and thither
and we so like paper -
thin, fragile and frail.
We float away with the wind
so far away that our end becomes inevitable.
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
I chastised chastity
from the day I lost serenity.
No elixir for eternity,
rather I'd have pious pity.
Flamboyant furrows still adorn
the depths I've don
over the embellishments I've worn.
Yet, I'm barefoot like when I was born.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 8:07 AM UTC
Tomorrow will be a better day,
they told me when she was gone.
Tomorrow will make space for you to lay,
they told me when she was no more.
Tomorrow will have better things to say,
they told me when she left.
Tomorrow will keep death at bay,
they never told me so.
The morrow could be a bleak way,
they never told me that.
The morrow wouldn't let you borrow,
nobody told me so.
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 9:17 AM UTC
To atone is to tune,
your soul's acoustic hole.
It's to loose it and be a loon
until, intoning spawns a hole.
A spartan room is an ****
for one whose toes
never follow chronology
and never miss the woes.
Eating the fruit of knowledge
bought accolades at my foot,
I have heavens to acknowledge
but I'm aging in rummage.
I smolder in pain,
as gratefulness grate.
I repulse my thoughts
as they stab me in vain.
A suave lily appalls
dirt on it's debris;
like a reclusive lady
who hates ghoulish paparazzi.
I cipher in poetry
outlets hard to decipher;
Like pottery,
it calls for practice not paltry.
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 10:24 AM UTC