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.

we’re all fools here.


lips red as wine
your limousine eyelashes
reflect the white
from the moon
tangled fingers slide
on our skin.

we’ll forever be inscribed
in the verses of the ocean.
this prose will live
to see
many a nights
and breathe through my breath
whenever I shut the lights down.

this moment will be safe
and away
from the dusty highway
and ashes in the air
rising from the fires
of our past.
your every touch
is a fragment of a memory
in my heart
who seek to go nowhere
but drown
in your river

forever.

 

Three More Daysa.co/8qmOtnw

what is it?


there is a truth
that waits within us.

it doesn’t scream out
for resolution
nor does it resist.

it paces itself
on our heartbeats
and goes unnoticed
before the silhouetted sunsets.
the insignificance is same to me
as to you.
but what does exist
that your touch on my lips
cannot reveal?

it lives on, unconvinced
by logic and faith
as I dive deeper
into your river
that sketches me into our horizon,
and the truth slowly
surfaces up
with my remains.

it will stay there
until one and all shall delight us
and we, them.

Three More Daysa.co/8qmOtnw

so the weather, huh?


of course it’s pleasant
but not all year round
us is the weather
we must look forward to
as the seasons are forever bound

to the very nature
of stay, like lovers’ ways
the nights they warm
in the january blues
under the showers dry as a day

together we deem greater than
what seasons ever mean
we’re everything less than
the bittersweet skies, and more than
their love has ever seen.

 

Three More Daysa.co/8qmOtnw

a cheap date.


i track the shadows
across the mist
the fog that hides away
the glowing pain
of technological advances.

i search in the conversations
of the settlers
who float in the flow
of an endless stream of
clever, organic reach
bubbled up by the wind
that blows them away, and I myself
fly, a few miles away
on a half-fictional highway.

i’m looking for the folklores
the old, and dusted names
in reprinted editions
in the pockets of
your ragged suits
in the colors of mission
any of those ghosts
will do, so long they bring me down
back to the earth
and haunt my face
through the misty mirror
before it turns blue
with deep black eyes
and a shiny smile
the one you pretend
whilst the black hole
of your screen glows endlessly.

i’m making an escape
much thanks for a cheap date
my feet are aching
for new grit.

 

Three More Daysa.co/8qmOtnw

here.


your eyes will study the lines
on my face, one day
though you are somehow unaffected
from the breathing of space
or the words i say.
amidst the picturesque explosion
of a pixelated city
you smile so dim
giving in to its sanity
your bones down to earth
is the apparition worth
your time?

or would you rather
come with me, and fly
to a place where your eyes
don’t have to
reach out for the light
where peace still lives
and recites the might
of an ignored perspective
of a beautiful painting
that never sold, that
never paid the bills
of my soul.

it’s all just made up
either in my mind, or lives
in between the intricacies
of these rhymes.
your eyes navigate carefully
through the trail my words
left, and follow the smell
of my air, slowly giving in
to the safety of my lair.

just stay there.

 

 

Three More Daysa.co/8qmOtnw

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 😀

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!

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.

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.