HOPE
Gushing stickily out of heart
Dripping from the dagger stabbed
Flooding on the floor is my blood.
I sense the deadness of death.
Numerous skulls round his neck
Monstrous foot over my head,
Grim reaper thwarts my throat
Life Sap tastes briny on ground.
Facebook is not what it it is.
Single post can stab to death,
Oozing out of the holy wounds
Blood and water plops but flops.
I can see the Sun setting in zenith
Gleaming rays fall on my eyes
I padlock them to the world
Far-sighted a dawn dawning o'er.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:53 AM UTC
CRY OF THE WOMB
Behind his earlobe was my tongue tip.
The tickling made him turn my side.
He embraced me and kissed on my lip.
Gleamed the golden ‘thaali’ around my neck.
Man and wife, we were then
Love flooded like Ganga in Shiva’s curls.
Then, I didn’t know why I used to see
A stranger in my bed, in nightmares.
Woke up at night and respired in consolation.
No, it’s him; I went back to bed caressing his temple.
There were five more days for Valentine’s.
I had the world’s best gift for him.
That night, he threw me into dark.
I craved to clasp him tight.
He was like ‘Kaali’ in Her ferocity.
I was like a lamp ready to be relinquished.
The woods around heard a cry…
The cry of a new born, it wasn’t me.
The cry of my womb barren.
The cry of his baby yearning to be born.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC