I dreamt of draupadi,
birthed by fire
foot on black coals
smoldering
face smothered
soot
an offering vengeance -
mocked, name soiled
a scapegoat for war
because of a purpose
dictated by her father,
for laughter imaged from her lips
a blame only a man or five,
a few producers, even,
can shift to a woman.

you weren’t there
so I went on asking
cards questions
each word a plea
for something else
and in return
each image printed
in monochrome blue
offered an answer
you would have hated,
but each one
sour against my tongue
sounded more honest
than your praise.

My love I can be adaptable
I’ll mould and shape for you
Quite frankly only if you asked
I’ll do anything you want me to.

***** Pretty >>I << promise
to n.E.v.e.r
l
e
a
v
e

y
o
u

My ❤ for you will c>o>n>t>i>n>u>e to GROW
my.luv.without.   [you}   .is.a.k{ill}er
Only
my veRsaTiLity for you brings me
}: woe :{

Without you Dark I am truly empty
The vacancy in my hearts always void
You pull at my strings like a puppet
But deep down I love being toyed.

Humour the times we share are hilarious
How on Earth can I live without you
Your the topping on top of my pizza
And the laces that tie up my shoe.

Oh Rhymes my flow when I’m with you
Is the easiest thing that I can do
Around your presence I’m never blue
I know you feel the same way too

StiCKy CaPs I LovE YoU ToO
YoU MeaN ThE WorLD To Me
So SWeeT anD CapTiVaTinG
My HoNey You’LL aLWayS Be

Free Verse your always being you
And I like that your forever buoyant
Sometimes you leave me wondering though
Could there ever be a you and a me?

Random I think I adore you best
Aargh! Wait this is hard I can’t choose..
To win the hearts of all you skills
Is something I don’t want to lose

Joyful Joyful I adore thee
What’s it that beguiles me?
Lyrics for a hymn before ye
And skills of all ye poetry.

sleep tastes
like milk tea and cinnamon,
wind-cooled
for maybe fifteen minutes
drowning in sugar
so that your tongue is sweet and numb.

I used to wonder
why you slept so long
plaid covers up to your nose
pillow imprinted
with your crown.

now I know
that dawn often tastes bitter
and the remains of the day
sticky like pomegranate rot
when dusk arrives
like a cool drink in summer
I can finally slake
this thirst for something different.

knuckles ache
peel back the page:
Aurelius, Seneca, Epictetus
cluck the tongue
boys outside throw jabs
over a cracked
cricket bat
a father frets over
investments and client work,
simple things.
I read on
wondering how so many words
committed to tranquility
could be attributed to so many men
when women
trained stoics since the womb
would pen epics -
if only they were not plucking stones from rice.

don’t wear anything
too long
too short,
cross your legs
try to look
ladylike -
smile, don’t fight
ask others what they need
or stay silent but
keep smiling.
walk softly, sway
gracefully, carry
a world your crown
cook ambitiously,
daily,
clean well
work comes after
the house and home,
so do hobbies -
sewing is a nice one,
when you find the time,
between peeling garlic and
scrubbing the basin,
won’t you fix that button
on your shirt?
your hair, too,
should be styled
even simply,
daily
for everyone.
don’t say you’re tired,
we all are tired,
but you’ve got to follow
every last rule.
and when you’re finished
take a picture and tag yourself
smiling,
folks want to know
you’re happy about it.

oil splattered
underfoot
dripping from the diya,
leaking slowly
cotton wick burns black
smoke wisp
bending
paints the ceiling
like kajal  
around your eyes.
my palms trace the wooden
alter,
a splinter punctures my thumb.

cheap matches
it took three trips
striking those brittle necks
against the grate.
but when I finally lit
sandalwood incense,
that smoldering scent
calmed my jittery soul,
aching for reprieve
from longing.

We are a  circle
With neither a beginning,
Nor an end ;

Just me and You and
All our demons inbetween -

Hellfire may blaze
The meteor falls sidelined -
Uriel may stand poised , and
Deadly pestilences of the biblical kind
Ice and fire may reign
Yet - we will stay trapped
In that constricting ring
We birthed , our sad loyal child -


A circus devoid of comedy
Ladies, gentlemen -
This drama, our tragedy -


See the tiny scars etched hard,
The bruises, the marks,
The papery voices we use
To protest empty words;
Endless chasms borne into
Our chests ; These hearts —
They are empty.
Our arms, comfort seeking ;
The heads, our selves —
Caught in an infinite loop
Pulsing with an  old light
Like the one from a long dead star.

It's a state I'm sure
Is unattainable
It's just a setting on a dryer afterall.