When words are silenced, I can not hear them.

They are my voice, my mind and my body
They are the smallest mocule of intimacy that hold me together, I wrap these words around my little finger until it goes numb.
They grip my skin so tight it hurts and I pass out.
They sting like a black widow's bite and they kiss the moon with beautiful sound.

Those Words..like a powerful symbolic weapon made up of strong syllables and even stronger convictions, they are life's little secret.

A secret that needs to be shared, borrowed, used and abused.
But I dare not to be silenced anymore.

I want my words to be heard. Heard across the planets, the stars and deep space, where no vacuum can withstand the intensity of what I am saying.

My words will come faster than the speed of light but will flow more delicate than a red rose's silk petal. They will not hurt you. They will heal for what is meant to be healed, they will be kind and gentle.

Yes, my words will be spoken to any formidable ear that will listen. They will not make you bleed, they will only mold the sutures of time back together.

So try and silence my words, you see my words are driven from powerful thoughts of reflection, for you are the one that will be silenced by the seconds of a deaf ear.

I was getting excited.
Waiting nervously, in my little boys mind.
I stood there patiently, a wee bit nervous but patiently.
My knees were starting to shake
My heart beat faster with each step I took
I was getting closer to my ultimate dream

This eight year old boy's dream to ride by myself, on the bumper cars at the county fair.

Every young boy remembers that moment
The moment when we can put the pedal to the metal and see the sparks fly from ceiling of the metal structure, as we slam recklessly into the next car and our heads bounce off the padded steering wheel...oh yes that feeling

The intensity inside me grew by every sinking flash of time.
The Kodak moment I was waiting for
You know that time..that hip hip yoorah moment of finally being independent

I was on the rise to manhood...or so I thought

The line moved as about as slow as molasses in the winter
Ten people in front of me now

Eight.....now six

Four ...now two

I was next...yes, yes, yes ..I finally reached the threshold of my manlihood

The grisly looking ride operator stared at me with bewilderment and confusion

Now is the time that he unlocks that chain...that barrier that holds back my freedom
The rusted links swaying back and forth.

Then err of calm set over me...the time is now
I am about to become a man..
"Stand tall" ..I said to myself

I stood tall on my tip toes, straining ever so slightly, to reach the top of that painted red line just above the cartoon elephant's finger.

That moment, frozen in time!!

The world went blank as the only thing I heard was that grisly, mean looking ride operator say:

"Sorry kid, you are not tall enough to ride this ride, maybe next year."

My cotton candy fell to the ground

If you ever travel under rain dotted blue
stop at the ten mile haat.

Sellers there are not smart
buyers don't ever bargain
strange is their dealing art
both parties feel having gained.

Small is all they have
except the smiles on the face
the little the garden has saved
is sold to fetch happiness.

There's no haggling on price
never mind if you don't buy
no price is needed to be nice
peace is just an easy try.

Small men with not much of need
who easily make you their part
an island that lies far from greed
enchants you wins your heart.

And it's not a story that I make
I happen to be there once a while
return with a bag of big take
from the village haat at ten mile.

When powers she wields
river she breaks homes
floods paddy fields

Swords of rains
swells her hurt pride
boils her veins

Vengeful she brims
breaks the lock gate
cultivator's dreams

Gone is sweet flow
in the moonlight
soft silver glow

Simmers her soul
raging red hot
she burns like coal

With inflamed tides
she devours the crop
growing on her sides

River now a curse
she wouldn't recede
without leaving scars

She can't be blamed at all
men have only ravaged her
taken her all.

I'm not going to lie, love.
It still hurts.
It hurts me when I remember your lies,
your alibis, you texting her that summer

It hurts me when I remember and what hurts more is that you did it in the first place
Never did I think that you would do that
Never did I think I could be hurt any more than I am, more than I've been

It led to uncertainties, insecurities and gaps
And I honestly have trouble trusting you

Yet I was a fool who was hopelessly in love with you.
Unconditionally forgiving, making amends and running back to you

I could say how I don't deserve it
I could tell you how wrong you are and how low it made me look at you

Yet here I am, loving you even when you hit that lowest point
Even when you've done more than just hurt me

Bear with me, love.
Make me forget.

A young woman stands on the corner of the street.
She leans slightly to the left,
and wholly places her body against the brick wall.
An unlit cigarette is caressed beneath her gloved hands.
Snow falls and brushes itself against her black boots
as if it were a cat asking to be scratched behind the ear.
Her warm breath conceives a chilled cloud of smoke with the frigid air.
A man walks from behind her right shoulder.
He holds a collection of daisies and moves slowly.
His oxfords progress as if they are reaching a bus stop.
His black coat reaches his knees and matches the young woman's -
it fits tighter on her.
He places a hand in his pocket,
removes a sterling silver lighter,
and places it in the palm of her hand.
He rests his freezing fingers inside her embrace -
the leather feels like his armchair at home -
his only escape from anything other than solitude.
The young woman smiles,
lights her cigarette,
and allows the nicotine to coat the inside of her body.
A red lipstick shaded deeper by violets
stains itself on the cigarette.
The man holds his hand open and aloof.
The young woman dances her thin fingers around his stout ones.
The cigarette finds its new home.
The young woman smiles.
The man walks away,
carrying her bouquet.

Feel the heat
of a genuine passion
burning in your meat
like a love in old fashion.
They don't know love
like I do,
to embrace every thing
that makes you.
A shooting star
falling from space.
You know who you are
and that's tough
these days.

Body heat is extracting
the way we feel in collision,
something so everlasting,
It's much worth the impaction.

Cut open my face,
that would only make it quicker.
I chose my fate,
so could you make this quicker?
You are not you
and I'm half of me.
Trapped in typhoon,
a war under moon
goes endlessly.
The night befriends you
to help you cut through.
What's left here is
nothing for you.
I left there, stayed here
with you.
No rights, I went left
with you.
Held tight, I spent
nights with you.
Then hands grip my neck,
no gun at your head.
A quick loss of breath,
look what love did.