is it too much to ask for?


“Stop playing this again
and again. I’ve heard enough
about suicides.”

and everyone looked up
from their phones.
she was standing in the middle of the bus.
even from the back
her large green backpack
and a tensed face, stood out
amidst her shout.

“I know what these messages
mean. Stop these damn things.”

and we just laughed
at the back
at her understanding of
bus announcements. even though
none of us knew
what they meant. we were
just smart enough.

“What? Do you think suicide is funny?
You think I’m crazy? I have a
bachelors in Psychology and a Masters.”

and our eyes grew even further
apart as we saw each other’s faces
and we laughed even more.
we said, man she’s on
drugs, or had too much to drink.

“I don’t drink. My last drink
was 9/9/2012. I had a sprite
tonight. They mixed something in it
and, and, they did something and
I got out of there. I don’t drink
alcohol. I don’t. I need help.”

and we didn’t believe
a word she said and carried on
bonding with each other over
a drunk middle aged
woman shouting in the bus
and I met Brian
who just had a couple of drinks
and Jamie and her two friends
were 16 and never drank, and
Lee was high.

“You all think I’m crazy
but I am right. I work with, I know
about suicides, and I studied
psychology and you shouldn’t do this.
Stop these messages please.”

and a couple of stops
later, she got off
and quietly walked away from
the street into the dark, and
disappeared.

It was 11:15 PM.

we laughed a bit more,
and then just sat there
looking away from each
other, in a strange silence.

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surprise surprise


Hello there lovely people,

I have some exciting news today for y’all. I have been working on my first book for a while now, and it’s finally here! It’s called “Three More Days” and I couldn’t be more excited sharing it with you 😀

so happy GIF by Manchester City-downsized_large

You can get your copy on Amazon (I’d say get at least 3 copies, you know, just in case) and share it with your friends as well who are into poetry. It also includes a shoutout to all my wonderful readers, so yes, y’all made it in the final version! Honestly, I would’ve never thought of writing a book if you were not this amazing with your responses to my posts here, so it’s really all your fault that this book is out now.

So accept your responsibility, grab a copy, and let me know if you liked it (or if you liked it).

Cheers!

don’t know what to call this one.


I picked up my pen
last night
to tell you
why I still keep your
shampoo in my bath
but soon as the ink
started flowing
my body started to
drown in the bubbles
of our past
the time when I thought I knew
what love is
and then crossed
our paths.

and the time stopped
moving around, it got up
and set on a
straight line
it followed your lead
into your exploration of a new space
while I watched
helplessly, from behind.

and soon my pen
danced under the dim light
and drew the ink
from my heart
you took those moments
away, from me
and all I was left with
was some words on a page and
your shampoo, in my bath.

take both, my dear


I force my eyes to sustain
the little opening they can afford;
wish I would have listened to him.

with the spirits starting to dance
and breathe in the air
I sigh
and stare into the eyes of
the night, when he made the crowd
swoon over the blues
of his fingers.

I pause like photos
as the silence of the dark whispers
empty streets murmur whistling tones
the haze of street lights
and my eyes have found
a resemblance.

it’s all going dim.

and the bird has flown


and it is
the mildly painted winds
and stacked streets

i walk among the laboring
shadows, the scent still clinging
to the holes in my jacket.
the feet have no known
destination, and
so do my eyes.

it is the light
in the sky, that cuts through
the vacuum of her presence
and wishes to fill
the void, the reminiscent of fall.

but the rain ticks
turning my body clockwise
to the next course
even though her feathers
still calmly lay on
my clothes, the bird
who chirped the songs
of summer, has left us both.

her faint feathers
and silky silhouette
dives in with the waves
and swim on, to where
her heart belongs
but cometh the fall
and once again
will sing the bird
loud in mid-summer
a singer everyone has heard.

just like a woman.


my hands don’t feel a thing tonight
as i stand in the shower
of the breeze
the ghost of your body
holds on to my neck
wondering how bad lives make
good stories,
but your face is safe
from the closed doorways
as you escape, the black and
the white of the night,
just like a woman
who mixes the shades
and paints her world, in colors bright.

and you walk closer, announcing your stay
with a scrumptious smile
on your face
the comfort flows with
anything you say
but don’t think it’ll always
be this way,
and just like a woman, who sings
a song with her eyes
with her hair and pearls overlooking,
you hold my face
amidst a dozen doubts
as the hard moon keeps on looming.

and now i’m here
standing cold
after waking next to strangers
get old
realizing my various faces
were just made up words
that my pen constantly poured,
i study your ears
underneath your breath
maybe this was a part
of your plan
you pull my hair
and scrape my back, and moan
just like a woman.

the person I never wanted to be


I run out of dimes
to purchase words
to rhyme
and so still flows
the time
that I can hear
fearless cries going
faint, gliding in the
air, like a ghost of
distant past
and the moment’s truth
that is never going
to last
and I end up
sitting, on the surface
just a stone’s throw away
from an empty
hallway, where red lights blaze
and the eyeballs glaze
over the lit up moments
that got away
from my reach
as I turn into
the person, I never
wanted to be.