Tighten your fist
let the sand slip
contort your face
make it ugly beautiful
watch it trickle through invisible chinks in your hood
sadness
fulfillment
i love you
i want to hold you
firmly
to be dragged around
until you declare me father of all your progenys
******** or otherwise
be my wife, choke me to death
only you are capable of doing that
**** me
before i spill through the fingers
before i escape
stealing all of me and important bit of yours
to live the life of a scoundrel
a soldier
who lusts for blood
but can’t stand the corpses which litter his dreams
a life he wants for his own
but begs for at empty street corners
In evenings
when i could have gone to cinema
or a **********
or listen to demi-harlequins talk about art or poverty
(that is all they ever talk about)
i find a secluded corner in an empty beach
i smoke too many cigarettes
and let the sand slip through my fingers
again and again.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
In boxes full of nothing
A child learns to compose a ***** word.
While a woman
trapped, strapped, married to a bed
watches a drenched, shaken, homeless bird;
crying herself hoarse, until her heart begins to chafe.
The woman gets up, slaps the child, then takes him into her arms
The boxes full of nothing, she says to him, are strong but safe.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
Remember, everyone you meet is a little stupid
a little insane, pinched with a little of mundane
Remember, all happy days come one after other
and unhappy ones are unrolling wilderness
Look further, looks lingering on prairies of sad
winds sliding down to kiss your moist cheek
reddened with mad, and everyone you meet
is a little flustered, once been in love
In voice a little meek, in knees a little weak
a little of sky in their eyes,because nothing's above.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 5:27 AM UTC
lonely rock atop a mountain
it has rolled its way up
but it is not smooth, not slippery sloped
unbeautiful, mossy at unspeakable places
it has tarried too long in voids.
lonely rock atop a mountain
it did not know that wind loves it
until it climbed up to her
looked her in the eyes, and just breathed her in.
lonely rock atop a mountain
is finally alone, the voices are silent
she whispers hieroglyphs on his neck
in clinical licks and reassuring busses
she cuts and she heals.
lonely rock atop a mountain
it stands with its back drenched with the spit of world
and there are tears in his eyes
a bird escaped, and the cage went looking for wings.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 5:12 AM UTC