To me, writing is not fun.
It definitely is not an enjoyable task.
It doesn’t feel at all like
something that you do on a Sunday afternoon
while sipping your favourite drink;
Or while planning to spend the night
at your best friend’s place.
I mean, I like it in general
but the process is so ******* painful.
Writing, to me, is more like a therapy.
And as we all know,
you don’t go to therapy because you enjoy it.
You go there because you are sick.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 3:18 AM UTC
Life is what you make it.
What have you made so far?
All those lemons that life threw on me;
I placed them all in a jar
of excuses, sealed the lid
and labelled it "tomorrow".
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
My room has five walls
(and yes, I am not counting the ceiling).
Wall one!
It is the one with door which opens only from the inside.
So you gotta knock first to get in.
Advance apologies; You might not be entertained.
Wall two!
A window, the oldschool metaphor for freedom
with its thin iron grills and a broken pane
now serves ventilation purpose.
Wall three!
Useless it may seem, but this one is the most equipped.
With its big pale switch board crucified on it;
This walls commands the life here.
Wall four!
The proof of my existence,
this wall holds the old photographs with the pride of an artist.
I hate looking at this wall;
“Staring directly at sun may cause damage to the retina.”
Wall five!
This one is my favourite.
I could doodle over it again and again
and then hide behind the screen of my laptop.
Facebook! It’s funny to think about sometimes.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 4:43 AM UTC
He got his third birthday present;
A brand new 24-piece crayon set.
But he loved the most,
the second color from the left;
So used it all, with others intact.
Tomorrow is his birthday;
He is now thirteen.
He has ten 24-piece crayon sets;
Each missing the color green.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC
Endings are always painful.
So, I always keep
a half-read book,
an incomplete poem,
an unfinished movie,
and a barely heard song
with me;
Just in case...
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
You could shove-in the biggest ******* blade into my chest and I-
I won’t hurt you back.
I won’t even cry.
I won’t ask you to stop.
I won’t curse you.
I won’t protest.
I will help you instead; Even if the pain kills me in the process.
I will lend you my hands when yours start to weaken.
Slit my throat to make sure my words won’t get a voice.
And if it helps, think of me as the thanksgiving turkey ready to get carved.
I will in fact make sure you are always alive in my poetry.
Every time I’ll struggle for words,
and every time my sentences will cry for meaning;
You, sir, will make sure my poems are breathing.
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 2:39 AM UTC
She was my favourite dream, and
I spent my whole life
Lying on the bed
Trying to dream
About her
Again.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
To all the crushes.
Hey! How are you doing?
Shhh! don't answer.
I know you're good;
you always were.
That's why I fell for you
in the first place.
We don't know each other.
*You don't know me.
You don't have to.
trust me; fine, don't.
I owe you,
for all the butterfiles,
and the clicks in my knees.
I admit I am not romantic.
I am in fact dull as a dust,
but I have never found it hard,
to praise you, or compliment your existence.
Like your enchanting eyes
or as I like to call them
“The black hole phenomena”
as they could capture time,
never to let it go;
Or the radiant smile
fabricated by your perfectly carved teeth.
But I chose to not talk about it,
as it has been clichéd
by many great poets.
Remeber everytime you caught me staring
and I made it look like I was not?
Such a great actor I am,
you gotta admit this.
I always thought you had a slight clue.
Meh! It doesn't matter anymore.
And If you ever find about me
(I know you won't),
Just don't feel bad, or sad
(I know you won't).
Believe me,
If the knot in my throat had allowed,
I wouldn't be writing this. Instead,
I would be singing this in my crocodile voice,
as I then had not cared about anything, or anyone.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
Chocolate Milkshake!
Sweet love-child of milk and chocolate;
Drowsing inside my extra large take-away tumbler,
after a tiring roller coaster ride.
Chocolate milkshake!
Dark and delicious; Derived from the desserted district of dreamland.
Destroying me internally, you devilish seed of cacao tree.
Today, you are mine; And I’ll be the proud receiver of your sweet nectar.
Chocolate Milkshake!
You proudy liquidy miracle of nature.
You self obsessed syrup of supremacy.
You won’t ever get over yourself, will you?
Chocolate Milkshake!
I have loved you enough, you mean juice of Zion.
Next time, I am gonna order a vanilla milkshake.
It might not be as magical as you are;
But again, I can’t hold onto you forever.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
No fancy words, no subtle metaphors.
No unnecessary rhyming, no forced stanzas.
No charming characters, no outraged emotions.
No known beginning, nowhere to reach to.
No false claims, no stories to declaim.
No pretentious wisdom, no poor philosophies.
No insightful analysis, no blind remiss.
No powerful principles, no meek cries,
A plain simple poem; read it as it is
before it dies.
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC