The weather is not brutal sir
The weather has got nothing on my watch
Today the turbulent storms are blasting the ruins
Tomorrow autumn would ensure growth of the ravaged masses
But what about the tornado that tears this heart each day
Who would calm it down?
In this unknown town
In this strange colony
Who would erase this LONELINESS written in block letters?

~Manu M.

A trail of footprints- their cavities deep
Marked on these sandy dunes
Following these are misnomer winds
Blowing from foreign soil bereft of moisture, choking my throat
I cough out black blood
My thirst remains unquenched

As the sun casts its cannon
In my direction burning
The last strip of tolerance

The dusty, rogue sand storm
Unwilling to cease
Swirls around ******* my energy
And in the desolate air of pure abuse
I lie numb; The oasis of ecstasy
beyond my reach

The oil in my living wick has dried up
Penniless I happen to be
No money but work is ghastly

Thus, do not question or comment if this wick remains unlit tomorrow
For the path I treaded was mine ALONE
So let the end remain lonely too

~Manu M.

The green of my veins
Shivers at the touch
Of your sleek fingers
Often I wander unarmed
In the mystic blue haven
Of your clear eyes.
Vulnerable, held prisoner
Ramshackled in your custody;
When finally our lips brush together
Yours as soft as rose petals
Of a rose newly slithered
From an unrequited bud
And like a floating lost dandelion
I fall in your ravenous embrace
Our souls slip into each other's
Tearing the curtains of shame
Aloof from the miseries of reality
Flooding in madness
Deeply, truly, neurotically
Drunk in love.......

~Manu M.

Shush, do not utter
Not now, hon

Oh! Dear let the cherry blossoms
Of our love blossom
Slowly, easily
In this orchard
As aromatic as daffodils
Newly out of their soft buds
Young and fresh just like us;
In the mist and chill of this dark night
Let us warm our
cocoons with endearment

My Jade Vine, at times blue luminous
And at times light green
Spread those shades on the open
Palate of my heart

Do not, not now hon
Leave this love unrequited

~Manu M.

Seraphic in form
He promised to end the storm
Setting me in a trance
He pulled out a lance 
To rescue he had to carve my naked armor
So I stood vulnerable on the rejuvenating harbor
I held the scrunched hand of my Mariner
As we sailed together over the rough waters
But soon I realized that his service was a sham
His shadows had deceived me to believe he was my guiding lamp
Contrary to the promises he slashed my trust
With knives, blades made of inhuman lust
That wretched soul turned me into a wreck
A forgotten flotsam, as I continued on the arduous trek
Merciless the journey grew, I was reaching my nadir
But hungry still was the counterfeiter’s stare
An alarm signaled him that his prey was out of blood
He waited to remove me like a **** with his stump spud
Thunderous, monstrous the gory battle raged
He bathed under the scarlet running of my veins, deranged 
He devoured me till the very end
Corpse I was but undead
His wrath had turned me incredibly fragile and frail
So before he could end this life,
I jumped in the treacherous cascade following a much peaceful trail

~Manu M.

My darling you do know right?
That I love you in spite of every ‘in spite’
And forever would love you this way
I know you’d wonder-Why did I leave then?
Well sweetheart, have you ever seen
The sun and the moon intertwined?

We always believed that I
was your apple sauce
And you my pork chop
Either went missing
The delight shall remain incomplete

But love, you do know it hit both of us
How weak was the foundation of this structure
Infallibility is not something each
Relationship can afford
With which I perfectly agree

But only if it were for errors committed
Honestly in love
This moon would have defied
The force of gravity to reach his sun
Even when it meant burning his identity

My ashes would also have
Whispered your name girl
If only our attempts had been honest
Just for once

For the eyes drifting upwards
Did see us together at times
But hon, we were never intertwined

If only our apologies had some substance
If only our love were more than just pleasure
If only it were based on truth rather than fraudulence        
If only we had recognized OUR relevance

I’ll not waste much of your precious time
End I shall this sorrowful ballad
With these final parting lines-
“That every night this moon re-lives
The vivid memory of
The light radiated from his sun
That helps him hide the bruises, ugly scars
Dark holes in his soul from
The world’s gaze

Shining brightly every crepuscule
Following a similar phenomenon
As that of the celestial sun- giving its light
From millions of miles away to its celestial moon
The distance in no way affects the connection
between the two

Cupcake we both know that the moon
Will never have light of its own
It is the sun that will forever be the source
And the miles will forever exist
And must be maintained
To prevent the breaking of hearts beyond repair
Prevention is a necessity
Since the sound of such an apocalypse
Might remain unheard
receiving none’s attention and solace
For sound does not travel in space”

He said-“Drink!”
So I drank the thick syrup he gave
At first it was sweet but slowly it turned bitter
But I did not mind
Because my love for him was insanely blind

Every day he brought that drink with him
Garnished with his charming smile
His smile by dusk turned into a miscreant one
Filling the night with my shrill cries

By dawn he’d say I’m his kryptonite;
Overly exaggerated affection, disguised neatly
Laced lies and promises as hollow as god’******>Would play in his favor every time

Slowly, subtly he poisoned my spirit
At first with the thick sweet richness
Of his seductive voice which
Turned into a sadistic hungry howl by twilight

I surrendered myself to his evil ways
As the disparaging grew stronger each day
I found myself in a cage whose key
I myself had smashed far away

Like a slave I served my master
And like a leech he bled me dry
Now nothing is left of me
I’m just another shadow that
Wanders under the open sky

Sometimes when you read a verse
The words hit your soul hard
They make you wonder all night
“How can someone fabricate such a piece of art?”

The feeling each syllable holds
Gets carved into your heart
Words inspiring you to weave some of your own
Which might cause the ordinary populace to feel your warmth

With excitement flooding
You pick the quill only to wonder
Would your quill succeed in
Re-creating the magic
You recently witnessed?

You drop the quill
Not because of self-doubt
But because you just know
That some magic tricks only belong
With svelte magicians
And sometimes you yield sweet joy
In being touched by others
Just witnessing greatness…

Being a winner to me
Is not so much about
Winning the Battle of Waterloo
Neither is it about
Defeating the Axis Powers in WW2
Nor the heroism of Odysseus
After the fall of Troy
It is to me something simpler
But subtler
Like the equanimity of Horatio
In the Hamlet
And the fortitude of those who
Win unheard wars
Winners are those i'd say
Who in spite of losing believe
In the strength of their RESOLVE.

Extravagance is amusing
But oh! Mother
Glamour can never out power
Thy love, so sumptuous

Thy hugs and kisses
Have brought my peccant soul
Back to the place of its origin
I beg thou to pardon me
And consummate me
With your embrace, so sweet

The svelte Modus Vivendi
In which I was occupied
Its fraudulence I have realized
Oh! Dear father
I do not care about
Those puffy cushions
And velvet blankets
All I want is thy forgiveness
That’ll spread fragrance of bliss
Across my soul

For I have returned to my home,
Come rejoice
As thy daughter salvaged
Herself from a path
Laden with sinful gold

Sailed I have the sea of redemption
But my resolve would not
Purify without thy acceptance
Save me! My Guardians
And let me end my repentance
With the touch of thy affection.

~Manu M.

Do you know how many scars i have?
So many that it would take an eternity to count
But still this stupid heart fakes a smile
To save from the world's sympathetic sounds

Do you know how i got so many scars?
It was not a lethal accident
But a ruthless trap called love
Funny it is, as still this heart loves the giver

People assume that my happiness is real
To be authentic enough to plause
Aware they are not of the fact
That bloodshot these eyes are
Each night helping this poor heart
To shed some weight just for a while

~Manu M.

Sorry mom I couldn’t be
The child prodigy
You always wanted
Me to be

Sorry dad I couldn’t be
The most intellectual
Of them all like you imagined
Me to be

I couldn’t be the dutiful
Trophy daughter
You always wanted
Forgive me Papa

Though I know not whose
Fault is the sourness
That dwells between us
Maybe, it is the fact,
That you wanted me to
Stand out in the crowd
And I chose to sink
Deep in the ocean.

~Manu M.

They say I am crazy
They say I am foolish
They say I am not worth it
A misfit burdening the world

I say I am crazy
I say I am foolish
I never say I am not worth it
I maybe a misfit but I have a dream
To share with the world my symphony

~Manu M.

Smiling, laughing, jumping
Beaming with extravagant light
He ran through the meadows hoping
That his father would take him to the wonder Park tonight

But his father couldn’t make it
Since he had a night shift
And little Jimmy couldn’t resist
His innocent tears from dripping

He tried hard to pull his tears in
But they shamelessly slipped
His mother patted his back asking him
To be a strong guy
As according to her and this Utopian world
“Boys don’t cry”

Young Jimmy walked with a sore eye to his house
After getting bullied by Big Barry Fry
His father asked him to man up and stop being a mouse
As according to him and many a folks alike
“Boys don’t cry”

He smashed the ball into the goal
Leading his team to victory
And flung into his father’s arms
Wishing to achieve his sympathy

Adolescent years passed by
Times came which made him want to cry
But he had to hide his tears
As according to this ideal world
“Boys don’t cry”

Time passed
His dreams did shatter ripping him apart
Devastation gripped him breaking his heart
But still he pulled his tears back
He had to try!
Because according to this flawless world
“Boys don’t cry”

The summer of ’59 brought him lady luck
But who knew, innocent Jimmy
Had turned into an evil schmuck
Bruising his wife to death
Gave him eternal peace and rest
Making up for all those moments
Which were supposed to be dry?
As now even according to him
“Boys don’t cry”

~Manu M.

He did not know happiness without her
He could only be happy with her
He felt lost and lonely when she wasn’t around
He couldn’t help but smile when she was around

He loved the sound of her laugh
He loved the birth mark on her neck
He loved the way she cried softly during movies in the theater hall
He loved the sparkle that never left her eyeballs

While she,
She knew happiness even without him
She could be happy without him
She felt free and elated when he wasn’t around
A tinge of insecurity outlined her smile when he was around

She liked his voice but loved hers
She liked his honey colored hair but felt hers were better
She liked his crooked smile but could have never loved it
She liked his eyes but loved the face that was reflected from them

She never said she loved him
She always said-“We’re friends”
But as time passed
She did not act very much like one

He assumed she had fallen for him
But she hadn’t
He fell in love with her
But she didn’t

From the moment he saw her
He thought that she was the one
And it was until later
When he realized that she wasn’t

She kept saying-“We’re friends”
And he did not understand why?
As they did nothing of the sort as friends did
When he asked him she said frowning
“I do not want to be more than friends”
The answer to him seemed pretty dry

She broke up and said it was meant to be
He shouted, cried and hit an unknown street
There were many fish in the pond he thought
But none matched her elegance
She was special, he thought,
She was special, maybe, because he loved her

She adored him
She was fond of him
But with him she was just not sure
Of what she was sure with John
When he heard this he was shocked
She had never asked him to love
But he did anyways
He gave her all that he had
Even when she hadn’t asked
Now he is loathing in a corner
And she, living her life with another
I wonder whose fault is that.

~Manu M.

“Julio is sweet
Julio is smart
Julio is a sweetheart”
Julio is Julia’s love
Julio and Julia both are Portuguese
Former for namesake, latter at heart

Julio’s America born
Writer he is but no ordinary
Languages French, Portuguese, German, Spanish
All flow through his soul
Virtuoso is the word they use to describe his artistry
And it was for one of his poems that he won Julia’s heart

Poem was 'Meu Coração'
Recited it was in Lisbon, Portugal
Near a beautiful eye catching lagoon
On a sunny busy day; Julia vividly remembered

Today was the day they stole each others' hearts
That is what led to this decision
Of trying a poem for her beloved
But the catch was she was trying to write in English
Her English was even worse than their old Spanish janitor

But she was not one to shy off from challenges
So she tried one more time-
“Julio is sweet
Julio is smart
Julio is a sweetheart
Julio makes me smile
Julio makes me laugh
Julio makes me blush
Julio makes me warm
Julio is my love
Julio is my heart
Julio is my heart”
The poem to her seemed terribly plain but effective
And no matter how hard she tried
It felt as if the words were stapled in her brain

And then she jumped like a kangaroo
As the doorbell rang
Put on her slippers and hurried towards the door
Opened it and leaned forward to kiss him gently
She always knew when Julio was at the door

He was her Julio, her desire, her dream
Smiling at her, his eyes home to the bluest sea
They kissed again and this time more slowly
Letting the magic settle in the air more properly

Julia went to the kitchen and brewed some coffee
While Julio went to shower and as he removed his shirt
He saw a paper on the bed, bent he to hold it in his hand
And the lines on his face smoothened and turned into a nostalgic smile

Julia was busy making espresso Julio’s favorite
When Julio entered , the somehow, roulette shaped kitchen
With a paper in his hand on which stretched Julia’s curvy handwriting
“Oh! Wrote that poem for you I titled it ‘My Heart’
Not very flamboyant, simple like you
Hope you’d appreciate my hard work”
Said she, as if the words were sewn in her heart
Then all of a sudden both erupted into laughter
Laughter filled with a sweet secret each beheld
Lucky enough I was to have known their little secret
Years ago, similar words had crusaded Julia's heart
Near a beautiful eye catching lagoon;
On a sunny busy day in Lisbon, Portugal.

~Manu M.

The cathedral bells rang as Sarah’s heart raced like a bullet
Today was when Joe would arrive; waiting she was for his embrace
Whilst, Richard sat solemnly then stood and struggled
Trying to grapple the names of the Apostles

There Sylvia, as Richard would call her: grandma
Brewed her special tea; the fragrance brought Richard towards her
He recited the names of the Apostles-“Saint Peter, Saint John, and Saint um….”
The last name tried he hard to pull
“He is invoked in helpless situations” his grandma prompted
Without reluctance he exclaimed-“Saint Jude!”

Sarah the mother entered and Richard flung into her arms
Without much ado Joe the father jived into the hall
All of them hugged and kissed like mad, and Sylvia the grandmother sent a little prayer to the Lord
She does that a lot, was brought up in a pretentious Christian family

The Bishop preached the Gospel; all rose for the Morning Prayer to be sung
Seeing him standing there singing in the choir made her heart burst with joy
Her little Richard singing the prayer; when all was done Richard walked hand in hand with his grandmother
And every night she recited him a verse of the holy Bible

Joe’s love for Sarah was taciturn
Sarah’s, more strident in approach
And whenever mother talked Richard felt
That a semblance tarnished his father’s soul

Five years after, the sound of the Shofar made his ears hurt
The sound almost eerie made his chest burn
Tears incessantly slipped damping his black suit
His mother was Jewish, the Synagogue echoing the sound
Of the Shofar shouted for itself
Making him realize the real reason behind his father’s reticence

In the spring of ’58 his father left
With a woman Richard would have never suspected
But that was not all spring had to offer
Richard fell in love with the girl of his dreams
She reminded him of his mother when she smiled
But glamour supposedly overpowered this sweet joy

And one wintry night Richard fled from his house
Leaving his grandmother to cry
She knows not where he is
For he never returned to his only lover alive

Roaming he is in the filthy streets of Nogales, Sonora
The a Capella that the Armenian Church nearby played wracked his nerves
The sermons that he’d heard over the years long back lost their effervescence
As the faiths Judaism, Christianity, Islam all seemed a cruel joke
Follower of Satan some call him when he walks down the road

Had it not been for the heinous conspiracies of the world
Poor Richard would have still loved the divinity
But sick he was of the demons of the world’s and his own
His ingenuity, innocence, spontaneity were taken away by the supreme
His heart no more hurts as madman he hath become

But somewhere in the abyss formed in his heart
He wants to believe the priests for once and for all
But the ineptness of the cause restraints him each time
Once was a devotee now a Pagan he’s forced to be for life

~Manu M.