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.

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

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!

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.

he’s leaving home


saturday morning
at 5 AM
he leaves his clothes
across the hallway
silently closing the door behind
he picks up the keys
and now he’s free.

goodbyes were
just some words on a note
that he hoped would say more
and as his friend
tries to recollect her clothes
from last night
she picks up the note
and clutches her handkerchief
“love is an adventure
when adventure is love”, it said
“i do love you but
if i don’t live now, i’d rather be dead.”

high and low.


five words that’s all you said
followed by five more
but never ever
you picked up your phone
and followed five more words
but nothing more

and now it’s late
in the dark
and the moon is nowhere
where it should be tonight
the black is taking over
the light
of your eyes

so darling
let’s not run away
to where we can’t make roads
you stay where you at
and i’ll be gone
soon as i get a little low.