Am I a poet ?

If you ask me
Am I a poet?
I may deny unapologetically
As Poetry found me
And now I speak its verses

I’m a seeker who found
Silence between words
Silence that made noise
on life’s quiet and dark truths
I’m their borrowed voice

I’m in eternal conversation
with the universe through poems
Poetry became my way
To understand the world
To make peace with the past

If I do anything
Other than write poems
I feel I’m wasting my time
I feel I’m wasting my blessing
Blessing to be one with universe

This is my gift
This is my redemption
This is my liberation
This is my only way out
Before I find my end

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Clouded by Poetry

Why look for another heaven
If we have enjoyed a rain
On this earth?
What can be more beautiful
Than a rain on this earth?

When rains calms you
And poetry clouds your brain,
You sit back and enjoy the words.
Today, nature holds my pen.

You notice how beautiful the green is
When rain washes down the trees.
The wet wind hums the verses,
While the black cloud reflects.
The smell of the earth,
The song of the drizzle.

The paper stays dry, untouched by ink,
But my soul is drenched in the rain.
Words dance with rains,
Thoughts with thunders.
I’m left with no words—
Perhaps not for this monsoon.

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To grow is easy
To remain a child is difficult

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To Trust Again

Those promises broken once
Have become the barrier
To trust you again
To know you less
To put a stop
To whatever we once had

Those broken pieces of truth
Which you confessed as lies
Have become the skeleton
To my every poem

I left you like a season
Sudden but expected
I stitch my wounds with ink
And now they bleed metaphors

(rest captioned)

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Who betrayed the trust ?
Love or the lust.

Thou betrayed thyself
In the name of care
With the wrath of helplessness

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Sacred Mischief

You are not just mischief
You are the forbidden fruit
A storm that hums lullabies,
A knife that always finds finger

You don’t flirt.
You disturb.
Your touch isn’t on the skin
it’s on the memory,
Like the collar touching the neck
Unknowingly, unrealised
Like a question
That is curled inside an answer

You make words linger
You seduce thoughts
before touch,
And Tests the limits of trust,
You disappear not to be chased
but to see if one can feel your absence

(Rest captioned)

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To Love the Flame

You don’t break rules
You destroy them,
and re-write them
Like they never existed
Like an old saint who realised
The scripture was all false

You redefine love.
Not with roses and vows,
but with the midnight debates,
Amidst some tea and cigarettes

Your smile has a curve
That curve makes my face tilt
But you would never let me,
Taste your lips for God’s sake

(rest captioned)

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Silenced Friendship

you weren’t just another friend
you were the silent confession
I whispered to the night
when my own voice
trembled in broad daylight

you were the quiet “me too”
when my shame was too loud
to hear anything else.

(full poem in caption)

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As you mature as a writer

As you mature as a writer
You begin to dissolve,
And grow formless
Drifting into freedom
Free to become anything
Free enough to be anywhere

But freedom carries a price
To be vulnerable
To cut open the skin
With the knife of madness
To be unsettled forever

It feels like a schizophrenic attack
When thoughts arrange themselves
At the cliff to jump
But words jump instead of you

(Rest captioned)

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The Shadows that question

I still text first, shamelessly,
like always,
Though you always say
you’d start the next time,

That time never came
And yet, my fingers betray me,
Pulling the trigger that
I never aimed right

You do reply, barely
I’m glad you stayed
But like the smoke
that doesn’t stay longer

(rest captioned)

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