current mood.

Speechless travelers!

What wise wisdom we soak from your depths of experience!

You open the skies for us as we marvel in your no filter destinations.
You show us what it means to live as our eyes gleam with your tagged endorsements.
I have some dollars for travel, but not with sails and propulsion.

We are grateful you open the doors of your tales to our mundane being in these prisons.
Stars and skies have not looked the same since.

In fact, you’ve never seen them, have you?

Speak up, what have you actually seen?!

Oh wait..

a poetic vapour

my solitude increases
as the barriers to enter
the rest of the world rise.

at last!

it’s late and only the music
of a numb voice screeches on.
I sit down firmly, in silence
my nerves kiss my toes and fingertips.
for few hours, I’ll exist
without a face
in a bath of waves.
everything around me, becomes me
just to live in these words.
how it is, becomes irrelevant.
what it is, at this moment
is what there is.
my memories can only chase shadows.

discontented, I drink another glass
and look for refunds.
I would gladly accept a new manuscript
and ease under the sheets
in the whispering silence of the dark.

an attempt at a good verse
an attempt to separate myself
from those whom I despise.

a poetic vapour.

at last.

yes, you can call it anything you want.

i am a cause of dusk
waking up as it all
settles, in the dark.

there is no feeling
in the colors of the sky
it is as is.

but it isn’t the same
between the lines we write
my being feels strange.
i dream without seeing
the dreams that i have.

it engulfs me.

bianca and rosso
become the small talk
as we move our glasses
closer, and closer.
i’m filled up to the brim
the sensation in my spine
has gone past
the threshold
for normal, long ago.

we’re sober
and our clothes hit the floor
in the night that remains.

a fisherman.

as I walked back home
I saw an image –
a fisherman
without a fish.

I looked around at the faces.
long faces, trying
to remember
calendars
and bus routes
and doctor appointments
and algorithms.

– a silent man, and melancholy –
He was all
that we could wish.

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.

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 😀

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!

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.

to know is to…

“to know is to possess, and any fact is possessed by everyone who knows it, whereas those who feel the truth are possessed, not possessors.”

-e.e. cummings

the foolish heart

I wake up each day
with a promise
in my foolish heart,
for some love
from the days of past,
but this promise
never seems to last
for long,
and just like
the days before
this day is gone,
but with a little hope
for tomorrow
my star shines
out in the blue,
and I fall terribly easily
yet again
for you.