I have procrastinated for months
To eventually write this poem today
Ironically, this time
The poem to be penned
Was meant to bring to an end
To my pet peeve of procrastination.

I thought my writing of it
Would be bring me face to face
[Oh, no. I am behind time and Procrastination is ahead of me.]

With procrastination.

Feminity for me
was discovering you
when I took you for a ride
on my bajaj discover
Charming for me
was talking to you
when you would call me
and I would call you
and we would talk
till 3:00am in the morning
Love for me is you
when I get blazingly angry
almost raging like a mad bull
and you calm me down
with your patience and grace
~ avijeet musafir das

You promise me a love's garden
still in his arms you stay
it was only me you said
the only one you could see
but next to him you lie in his bed

You say our timing is not right
so will you keep waiting for me
as it's his heartbeat you feel
while I'm the one here with dreams alone
watching you hold him left broken
bleeding me with a love not real

You say that we will be one day
but it's him you go to at night
to hide away the lonesome
while I keep waiting in an empty home
for that moment that would never come
Spiritwind©2016

If I said I was falling for you
would you give me a thought or two
would you look at me and not walk away
and tell me the words I'd want you to say

Would you take me by my hand
and always let me be your man
would you forever by my side stand

If I said I found it hard to make it through
another night here without you
would you love me that way
of how I wanted you to

If I said only your love would do
would you hold on to me tight
and make this love I feel right
and shine on me your light
Spiritwind ©2014

human life is so weird,
you wake up to an empty bed,
you make a half *** of coffee
because there is no one there to share
it with you,
you stare out the window
and imagine all the couples
sharing the news paper and
a morning cigarette,
you shower,
you get dressed,
you go to a mundane job
that you wish wouldn't **** you,
you come home to a messy flat,
you take off your shoes,
you go to the bathroom mirror
and look at your city filled pores,
you eat dinner,
you go to an unmade bed
that has more pillows than you need
just so it seems like someone else is
sleeping beside you,
you read the book thats been
sitting on your bedside table for
3 months because you just stare
at the word filled pages,
and then, out of nowhere,
you're asleep, dreaming of a different life.