Yeah, yeah,
you broke me...
You think?
you cant break anyone or anything that feels an emotion
because we control our own.
we lend out **** on permanent loan
and freak when it comes back before its due.
what a sad sack of stories
with a ******* word for emotion.
**** it up and understand
you cant break what is never broken
its not like your word.
its an emotion.
if youre feeling like ****
and you wanna go and carve it out of your skin
well skin. that can be broken.
and if you do it yourself that's a cut
and that is not broken skin
its stupid.
and you know it.
but why don't you stop?
because you love it.
more than yourself.
the ritual screams
but rituals can be broken
but you know it.
your heart is big enough for every joy and every sorrow.
just think about that for a while...
but you wont
you know it.
instead you will go on believing youre broken
and youre not
and you know it.

What if we never met?
what would then life beget
Would the suffering of you parting ease
Would not your existence please
like it does always to me
though countless time i went heartbroke
But now I am more, as off you go
and i am broke
Across the sea shall you be
would i never be there, letting you know
How beautiful you really are so

What if the pond we met at was never a part
of our lives which we cherish equally although apart
and the half moon on top of the football field
was like another regular moon, hidden with stealth
What if the colors on our faces never changed that day
and there was no water to wash them away?
What if i never told you how beautiful you really are
but i guess a million would tell you far,
a lot far from where i lay
where with you my heart stays
but would it not go so beyond
would there be no bond,
if we never met?

Isnt it beautiful to think though
you bring me sunshine on every morning
and i remind you of things you ignore
perhaps i would never bother you with them
if we never had met before
but i guess we had to, synchronize with the harmony
as dancing to the rhythm of life's own irony
fate called and would call but i guess
to have met you made me myself

Dear Mithila,
The mother of my children,
the love of my life
.
Yes, this place doesnt have wine
so no i havent been drunk

Heard my grandson's prayers,
you've been ill.
Heard you dont even go to the stock market
all day my wife is still.
I met your insurance contractor
And oh! is he a fine entity
he still bestows his powers upon me

My dearest Mithila
Loved you i have for seventy years
And ill love you till seventy eternities more
Our dead son, opened the door
and this place we reside is warm
unlike the winters where i went to the storm,
and blasted rifles in names of a revolution

The love of my life,
the mother of my children.
Teach our grandsons the song we sang
The bells in the market we rang
And let them ask if not pray
for their grandfather far away
Let not little grandsons of mine
forget honor due to evils of time
Oh! how i miss you dear
and oh, how i was wish i was there

You'll come in time, but understand
your wishes, my queen, were commands
but this wish i cant fulfill and i wont let the company,
wont let them take you like they took me
Stay! for my daughter still needs her mother
and my grandsons and granddaughter
needs to know of our love

Forever yours,
Madhav

Where is Simrik?
she's with me
In the kisses i give
the air i breathe

Where is Simrik.
shes in the flowers i pick
in the streets of lalitpur town
brick by brick

In the sloppy kisses
in my cheeks
under the trees
next to the creek
thats where is simrik
she's under my skin

I can bleed a poem,
from the compass blades i cut
through my skins for
for directions unknown

For the life lived in
an inertia is better
than to feel and react.
The hysteria of the mind
is too violent to me
and all on my part
i can do is bleed in words

Because if nature abhors a vacuum,
like science says
in between that space
must be letters and sentences that rhyme
there might have been poetry sublime
And we can scribble them down on the
paper
Or we simply can bleed