Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sand Mar 2016
I tried drafting a poem about the dyed daffodils perched against my window and I was even going to make a half-hearted slant rhyme for "daffodils" with "windowsills" but my slanted heart gave way because suddenly the flowers appeared so artificially tacky, so stupidly hopeful with birthday glitter dusted onto their unnaturally painted petals as they tried their best to soak up some sunshine though outside it was an ever so naturally unnatural temperamental March day coating the green grass with snow flurries though the weathermen expect nothing short of seventy tomorrow so the cold coat seems jarringly out of place like a good intention gone horribly wrong and I couldn't help but think, and think, and think

We never fit, did we?
  Mar 2016 Sand
Ghazal
Red
Is unabashed,
Glorious and proud,
Pure and sensuous,
Sure and loud.
Don't wear it!,
They whispered,
It's the color of sin!
It's the truest shade,
The very hue of life that
Runs beneath my skin,
I said,
And embraced with love,
Unblemished Red
Sand Mar 2016
there's nothing poetic about it.

(but i'm sure i'll try anyway)
  Mar 2016 Sand
jigyasa
believe me
i’m not dark
actually, I’m quite frothy

like foam that teases your lips
when you take the first sip of coffee

or the bubbles that catch your eye
when a nymph child plays

ivory keys that your fingers caress
as you make music out of me

or the decadent glimmering of a crystal
that creates kaleidoscopes in the sunshine

i’d melt the icing on a cinnamon roll
and lick it off your nose

or say your brows are caterpillars
and giggle myself silly

i’ll tickle your kneecaps
and poke your sides until you collapse

the child coalesced with the woman
the medical student coalesced with the artist.

Beautiful hybrids.
I should really be focussing on my biochem right now...
  Nov 2015 Sand
jigyasa
Monday night
Because weekdays make a woman ache
after a heart break

Strawberry sugar sugar
Caress me in all the warm and wet ways
(papillae)
viscously ****** strands

Broad shoulders Breathtaking Collar
Bones
Is what I’ll pick with you tomorrow
Because atleast a margarita hits the spot every time

Toss

mmmh
Darling don’t stop

Toss

Sticky pulp invigorates
Rejuvenates my taste buds
Fills my hunger
moan louder, ******* stranger

Toss

Deeper and Deeper into the papaya womb
Don’t stop! Don’t stop!
The mango the endocarp
Slurp it till it runs dry

Toss

Lap it up boy. We’re both famished
But only you know I’m the fruit piece
You’ll toss
Sand Nov 2014
Candelabra rusted over --
Steady rolling winds --
Emotionally burned out.
Sand Nov 2014
Do you remember that Wednesday afternoon three years ago
When we made a fruit tree by stringing together store bought bananas on Christmas lights
And tossed up our sunny masterpiece on sycamore branches
Sick of more dead winter
Sick of unsproutable seedlings
Sick of Patience, the Godliest of virtues?

Tap! Tap! Tap!
I’m sitting a few feet away from the leaky faucet.
Perhaps the faucet is clued in on the old adage that persistence pays off
So it presses on, presses on, presses on…
Marching to the beat of it’s own drum
But this drumming sounds too much like hollow dripping,
Like how I imagine the IV’s medicinal potion entering into your veins to sound.

Tap! Tap! Tap!
Your mother’s fidgeting fingers are dancing nervously on a People’s Magazine
She’s thumbing through pages but her face is fixated on the clock
Mentally counting down the minutes until your surgery is done
Mentally noting the ironies of a Waiting Room trying too hard to pass off as a careless bubble of distraction.
After all the room reeks of hospital cleaner laced with some derivative of a citrus scent,
And the television is left talking to itself like some incoherent patient diagnosed with insanity
And it reminds of her of an article she perused so long ago
Which read something along the lines of “if you hang out with crazy long enough, you’ll become crazy yourself”
And for a brief moment, she was comforted

Tap! Tap! Tap!
The doctor politely knocks before entering,
Everyone raises up to surround him,
But I stay physically stay affixed to my seat
And mentally float back to that faraway memory
Where we sprung into action
Combating the cold
With the only acceptable weapons of choice:
Bright lights and Yellow bananas.
Next page