A mound of ants,

crawling and seeping,

a tedious black drop

rapidly spreading.

A patched up white canvas,

with tatters and tears,

suddenly greyed and stood ,

leafless and bare.

From in within,

(she was buried deep some long ago)

out protruded, a seducing being.

With its tantalizing hips

and full red lips,

it inched ahead with my reflection in its eyes.

Within its arms I suddenly found myself.

losing the way I think straight,

losing to the pleasure – rolled up in displeasure.

A black cat and a crow,

ravage me from within,

because tonight I mounted

the anthill and made love

-unwillingly and yet willingly-

to jealousy herself!

And so today – both day and night,

her slave I remain!

Memories just stay,
They don’t get away.
The harder you try to forget,
The deeper they become rooted.

Memories are magical,
They can make you whimsical.
The ones which brought cheers,
Will fill your eyes with tears.
The ones which brought smiles,
Will haunt you for miles.
Better don’t trap memories,
As you wish to live with less worries.

What I feel, I’m not sure
I strongly wish if there was a cure.
It is not days but moments,
It is not sentences but words,
They just stay and tell tales,
They just remain to burden my sails.
I wish these memories flew away,
So that I too can fly away…

After I perish,

don’t fictionise me,

don’t immortalize me

and don’t imprison me

within your words and smiles and laughs.

After I perish,

I’ll continue to float and flow within your thoughts,

and shine and shimmer within your mind.

But when you write,

when you feather me down,

Cufflinks and chains,

Might bind my soul.

I’ll rattle and scream,

I’ll try to run and hide.

You mustn’t find me

and tie me down in ink.

But if you do,

with a hoarse throat

and sore, slashed limbs,

my soul shall be freed

with the key if your voice.

Someone will read aloud your words

and I’ll be out like a magical fog.

Even after I perish,

I’ll break the shackles.,

to float and flow,

to shine and shimmer,

within the minds of another.

Mountains and valleys ,

echo my name,

A wind-kissed soul,

a breathing cloud.

I waft through valleys,

bathe in streams,

billowing breeezes,

lift my hair,

a tangled mess-unkempt and bare.

An iridescent bubble,

I stumble in trees,

treetops embrace me,

wilting leaves at my touch.

Traipsing across,

this stream of thoughts,

I close my book

and wander about.

Yellowed pages with crinkled tops,

musty books and hardbound covers,

color my walls

and paint my windows.

Another bundle of words I untie,

a mystical fog, a magical war.

this time it’s different,

another eternity,

a wall of books engulf my entity.

Alphabetical stairs,

I climb on and on,

a wanderlust am I,

I go on and on…

Little white rockets,

little boats of news,

blotches of paint,

like the burst of colorful hues,

decorated my desk, my nest of serene art.

The dark and luscious night,

and creamy white moonlight,

left the shadow of a blush,

on your white porcelain face.

If I were a sculptor,

this would be my sculpture

But today I can only give you,

this little bottle of thoughts.

Dreamy words and gleaming lines,

a dulcet of love, an eternal hymn

for you to listen,

till the end of time.

My cluttered thoughts

and shattered dreams,

recite your words

and reflect your face…

The wisp of my feather,

whispers your name…

and so to you I give,

this puzzle of mine,

this stub of a poem,

this tale of a heart….

Lets rewrite our stars,

And heal our hearts.

The scars might bleed

But, let love take lead.

-We loved it this way,

But we were meant to be away.

I stood up for you,

For, my love was true.

But, I was torn down,

And my dreams shattered.

My heart is in pain,

For my fate is chained.

When our fingers interlocked,

I wished they never unlocked.

But world isn’t a wish granting factory,

Nor a love sanctuary.

Being helpless I cried,

But you know I tried…

I have a small heart,

I do feel it beat.

I find me respire,

But I don’t force in air.

I find myself eat food,

Even when I’m in no mood.

I feel this home all-jelly,

But I’m not sure who owns this belly.

Its dark out here,

And it makes my heart fear.

But I do lullabies hear,

And so I don’t cry nor drip a tear.

I do feel someone touch,

But the naughty-me answers with a kick,

”Ouch”-I hear my mom cry

And the innocent-me whispers a ‘sorry’.

I wish for once I could peep out,

But I was here to take a; leap out.

I should wait for my chance,

And not end in a mischance.

Once, will see the whole world bright,

When I’m ready with all might.

When I’m freed from here, I will meet those

Who loved me for no cause.

‘I have a small heart,

But why does it beat slower?

I find me respire,

But why is it heavier?

I find myself give-up

But the fighter in me showed up.

”Ohh! lil, heart; beat once more…and once more

For I could see those two faces evermore…”

My heart skips a beat when around you,

But it doesn’t take the leap to stay beside you.

If I could let out the ephemeral butterflies;

those which answer my heart’s jittery calls;at your sight

-I could begin a butterfly factory and swirl around you.

When our eyes locked,I unlocked them

When your words became dulcets,I tuned myself out

When you came my way,I kept myself away

When your scent filled my nose strills,

I taught my heart that it was toxic.

The day you said those words that I loved to hear,

I wasn’t brave to say those back to you.

But I prayed hard that you trusted those feelings ;

that washed past us during every glance

-And not those words, that I had told you.

Your words and smiles haunt me like a ghost,

But you were no ghost, but the host of my life.

I wish I was brave, to lull my fears and tears

-And for once tell you the truth,

That my heart…beholds.

A freckled face,

and two pigtails,

looked up to me,

yearning my tales.

A little blue blanket,

littered with little white flowers,

tucked my little girl away,

to her land of dreams.

A valiant knight, a charming prince,

bubbling cauldrons and crafty witches,

adorned her big blue eyes,

curtained by long, curly lashes.

Nights turned to days,

Dreams sold to the wilderness.

And now she stands,

the prettiest in white,

and little blue bells tucked behind her curls.

As I give her away,

tears stabbing at my eyes,

she whispers in my ears,

the words that made my life.

“I’m a princess” She said

“not because I found my prince,

but because you are my dad… “

Her eyes were swollen, red. Her lashes, wet. The tip of her nose, pink from rubbing tissues on it all night. It was almost dawn and she hadn’t slept a wink. It was raining outside and occasional thunders tore through the serenity of the night. Why was she crying? Nobody knew. Nobody except the moonlit sky and her little pillow.

The radiant star strewn sky was slowly peeled off and replaced by orange streaks of the mighty morning. Her little white pillow bore the battle scars of mascara and tears. Her kajol blotched face with jet black streaks running down her cheeks, reminded her of an overcast day.

The wind chimes hanging on her windowsill tinkled, signalling the entry of a cool breeze. It danced by her window, playing with her lacey white curtains. She wished to feel that breeze on her wet, tear stained face. She had been cooped up within these prettied walls, suffused with sullen hopes for far too long. She stepped down from her bed, her feet touching the cool marble floor. She slowly walked up to her window and touched the water droplets hanging on her windowsill. It touched her finger and slid down her nail to fall on the creamy marble tile.

Each time she committed this frugal sin, sleep eluded her. The beauty of the moonlit night and her mascara blotched pillow tortured her soul each night that she allowed lust-driven men to torture her body. If not for the relief of penance provided by the moon, she would have perished long ago, leaving only her mascara stains behind.