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Daipayan Nair May 2017
Don't give such
affirming sighs
to my proposals.

Those eyelids
don't make
the jump to fly.

I push them
off a cliff.
Daipayan Nair Apr 2017
In this no escape, you believe
Belief is what makes you enter
and belief is what makes you caged.

Sometimes it's more complex
when you admire a heart
The choice is to love it as a pace regulator
of the only similarity we possess.

One is contended with seeing
if it works, and satisfied
that it does work.

But belief in a heart requires
a belief in its veins and arteries
where amidst this superficiality
some love is pushed out, some is accepted
A circulation is believed
and life as a body continues
inspite of the similarity
now named blood

Belief keeps believing
smeared in it, somewhere inside.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
War lets my blood
escape down a sewage.

Healing surgeries
bring equal results.

In both cases,
what dares again
is blood.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
She stands leaning
against the wall, wearing
a camoulflage shade,
and she admits,
it's the new fashion.

She looks at me and winks -

"See, this is my camouflage.

The one you prune
and deforest is me."
Daipayan Nair May 2017
I am full with myself
flowing out unexpectedly
from the nostril.

Oddities are fever.

Openings in walls
are contagious.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
Acidic faces - a humble absorption.

Distortions, accepted
as clean networks in a green eyeball.

Faces flowing as a stream
of black decay, from our skulls

'Others' is an entity
falling for a pit or falling in it.

Base of a base seems lost.

Dilution occurring through kisses
or shutters of infinite resolutions.

Legs become the silent dunes, they cover

Curves preventing from falling,
help in getting stuck and rotting.

Spaces make deadly chemicals
get artistic recognition.

Two roads indulged in zombie meets,
left twisted in a quake.

Fragile fingers now learning
to narrate life with bones, or at least tend to

War has left none rock stiff but bones
and war is when it is to the bone

as some young minds in the middle
of nowhere, of a deserted, bare chest

wrapped in soft, damp, dead twigs,
screaming, take a bath, take a bath.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
I look around.

Gathering a zeal
more than courage,
I kiss her
blocking those lips.

The best,
I can think of.

I assure,
not a single portion
remains
out of grasp,

minimizing
the detonation,

blowing
just the two of us.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
Sad corners
Dark caves
Fumed pits

Dark lagoons
Dead reflections
Caged souls
Black forests

Breeze turning
chilled whistles

Possibility of life
Bigger possibility of ghosts.

True that it
divides a face

Vertical divisions
First choices

Its stoppage
before the lips.

A small tear -
hideout of an
entire negativity.

Horizontal division
is day to day living.

A perfect rule -
we divide in different ways
we cross paths
for a cancellation.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
There should appear some respite,
despite
the fact, I am a Nyctophile
as I too love my collapsing sight
I too flicker in the bright.
Like an earner without his earning
The dark existence,
by the sphere that lurks, partially satiated
'See-Saw' a fodder for human poets
The other aspect, totally denied.
Skin is imbalanced
which showers mixed colors
Why not an equilibrium?
Vampires licking honeyed sanity
The sane too, join the party.
But, if he complies, they wouldn't
If she complies, they wouldn't
Fluctuations are eminent
There should appear some respite,
despite
the fact, I am a dust stained file
as I too love my collapsing might
I too flicker in the bright.
Daipayan Nair Dec 2016
The 'me' in me
holds your hand
as the lights give way

to some emotions
pinned. Minute.

No. Gigantic. The eye sees
and so it can't see.

I see the 'space' in you. Can I
book a spot? I fumble

'I can see it too

That's the reason, you point
towards

the pole star'
Daipayan Nair May 2017
There will exist a middle
where good and bad will sleep.

And then the bad will rise faster
as they will be more restless.

Good will rise, good has to rise

only to become inseparable.

They will be friends with rebellions.

They will be rebellious friends.
Daipayan Nair Jan 2017
The mirror in my bedroom
is a ruthless killer
It kills without any remorse
chopping you in half,
in the blink of an eye.
Then it's even more visible
as a carefree psychotic
peeling the skin,
keeping for itself,
feeding on the flesh and blood
and storing them too
only to curtain the act & fact
by snatching the dead bones
freeing you at its will
with a plan
which is the most horrific.

And it doesn't stop there.
It further creates a new person
out of your death
thus, trapping your remnant soul forever
It's just the beginning.
Then, it starts killing a death
forever.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
The cat and her
speaker paw.

She holds the
stage in
midst of
human frames.

Damp walls
at clock struck
twelve.

Crows with
tears penetrating
the extra time.

The green
teased for a
self breath.

Kitchens of greed
complimenting street
wrappers.

Households and
nests in a rhythmic
beat.

The blur, otherwise
bright, still
the same for
innocence.

The cat and her
speaker paw.

Her audience,
virtual.

The pure chord
overlooked.
Daipayan Nair Jan 2017
Distorted faces.

Distorted bodies.

They like me the most.

I stay amidst them.

I accept all that they gift

yet I know them so little.

I see them partly

but I gladly take it as whole.

They are too simple.

They are ready to hug.

For me,

they're quite complicated

for a hug.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
Child in bubble
In the delineated rubble
A bone to be scavenged.

Cobbler tying butterflies
The polish left dry
A bone to be scavenged.

Tailors stitching suit
Tape measured six foot
A bone to be scavenged.

Bullet tattoos is to bliss
Is this the balance?

A bone to be scavenged
A hunger to be avenged.

The inner vulture.
Daipayan Nair May 2017
She grabs
her
triangle
for
a gyrate.

The end product
is
but a forced
gem
to sparkle.

Spoons to
lick
Spoons to
pour

Limit-
the
hidden clown

A stop
and
she figures
her
futile vertex.

Each point
reflected
twice.

Birth, desire
& death
in consecutive
origins.

A dead life.
Gems are but
stones.

— The End —