love
I hold you
I hold you, close to me. I push you, shove you, into the wall. I touch you, my hands on your hips. I kiss you, on your neck. I am intoxicated, with you. I am on fire, so are you. I undo your dress, The little zip at the back,
love
love
It's funny!
It’s funny how all poems, Which talk of love, are born of separation, solitude. It’s funny. And not. It’s funny, how, when the thing you love, Is away from you, do you really come to realise, How much you love it. It’s funny. And not. It’
love
What is love?
Love is that thing which wakes you up, in the middle of the night, only to look at the other sleeping in peace, and wonder, how beautiful they are! Love is that thing which makes you go the extra mile for them, even when you are broken, tired; to do
love
Everything withers away
Everything withers away. Everything. I envied something yesterday, Today, when I walked past it, I saw the cracks appear in it, Almost out of nowhere! But then, I remembered, Everything withers away. Everything. It’s about time, all the time. Time numbs things out, pain, pleasure, Beauty, strength. Time numbs
love
Letters to an imaginary girlfriend : Two
Hi love, I know I can call you that now! I’ve been home for a day now. We’ve been away for two days now, and that solitude I so dreaded, has finally engulfed us. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, maybe, there’s too much of a
love
My muse
I’ve had muses.. now and before. I’ve had muses. That thing, which held my hand, And walked me through a story, Or a poem I wrote, later. That thing, which was actually A person. Or so I thought. But then the person left. My muse however, did not.
love
The second one
Come with me, you had said. Come. Love. Live. I’m not the ordinary, the same, the mundane. I’m a poet, a writer, a lover. I’ll teach you what love is, I’ll shower you in prose, make you my muse. What happened to that? I ask you,
love
Letters to an imaginary girlfriend : One
Hi love, Can I call you that? I know I want to. I don’t know what this is. Maybe, you’d prefer looking at me, sitting across from me, sipping on a cup of coffee, and hear me talk. But I find letters intimate, reminiscent of a time, when
love
Do you remember?
Do you remember the plains my love? Do you remember the rains my love? You are amongst the waters now, In a land of plenty, and more. There is water all around, The weather’s nice and gay. The Sun shines, but just enough, To leave a tinge of red,
poems
Stolen mint
I looked up, empty faces looked down upon me. I tried to look away, a castlesque house, an oversized vehicle; two in fact, looked back at me! ‘Bad photoshop’ I quipped, ‘Home & car loan’ – the ad read; ‘Bad ad’, I shut my eyes again! I tried to remember something,
poems
That face among the faces!
I looked up, at the blue sky Took a moment, to let the aura fill in Then moved in, through the gates, faces, barricades; It all smelled nice, it all felt bright. A whole myriad of faces, filled with laughter, Hidden under paints, It all seemed shallow, so pathetic!! Someone,
stories
Just the two of us..!!
“Need something to write on. Suggestions..” “What do you wish to write on??” “Anything you wish for, apart from perhaps ‘Russian revolution’ “ “Some love story, Te Amo types “ “Hmmm…. Toh, meko kisi ki love story toh sunao…” “Lemme get over with the comparative government class” “And, the potential dropped to