All of your cries
You sprinkled,
On my sky, like
Gold.

With my soul
Bewitched by the eyes
In my heart, I
Hold.

And you my dear
Like a sorcerer
Mesmerise
My blood, to
Whisk.

And in the yearning
For your love
I paint you,
With my lips, so
Brisk.

Playing symphony
With your breathe
Surreal, like a
Song

And in the foreplay
Of our lust,
Under my fist
You belong.

-

Swaddling my scruff,
Brimming with shame
That night,
You choked.

Encapsulating your pain,
Under that stick of divinity
That night,
I smoked.

-

Palms are canvas of unfulfilled touches;

the smoke goes up in the hands of time
resting on a mat at my graveyard,
there are more seasons than the hairs
on the old man,
and he dare not tell the bubbles how to
blow in the wind;

So he write stories,
the skin torments at the hilt of the quill
and the blood splashes out on the stone.

“There are better ways of dying”
bursts another bubble from distance,
but somehow the voice fades
amid the bloodbath!

The stone chuckles at the fair,
places the hand on the forehead
of the old man and murmurs:

“Palms are canvas of unfulfilled touches;
some from the skin of unknown travelers,
some from the hands of your dearest”.

-

It is December
and the noise is deafening,
tells a mouth drunk on the cold.

The moonlight is in abundance
and your throat choked itself on the light.
It glows like street light
and talks about love:

You had your eyes closed for a moment
and it’s September now,
this tongue is sewn back to its place,
It no longer talks about change and rebellions,
no longer carves poetry out of lost motives,
it is again professional and diplomatic,
but not sublime;

So now when the noise is deafening,
you shout to make it a song!

-

It's the shadow of your distant past
hanging upon the forlorn tree.
It's the diary of fake smiles plastered over
your blistered face.
It's the lonely sea with no shore but a
lots of lighthouses glowing like candles,
like starry nights!
It's a lace of opportunity tied around
your throat and your wrist while you
write the story of your life....

it's your death wrapped in silver boxes, covered
in golden globes, presented with happy
faces.
It's you and your tired soul talking in
alpha phrases,

It's everything that comes easy
and nothing at the same time!

-

Your face slips from your own skin
and you're a surgeon mind you,
not a vagabond who couldn't identify
himself after getting lost,

So you start having tattoos
of your pristine memories...
one on your hand, one at your
torso... another on the neck
until this whole body of yours
is a memoir, capable of selling
itself in an auction, at a fair price.

And you hope the buyer is a writer,
What's better than having Stories
for every memory, right?
So you wait for someone to offer a deal,
you wait and wait and wait,
it is evening now and the room
has no buyers left.
The place, as quite as an oakmont
freeway on a December night.

You go back home in disdain,
but you've forgotten the stories by now !

-

Hold this poem from its head,
and feel the pain dripping from
Your fingertips,
As I narrate:

Who reads a story without a heart-break?
Who mails to a country without a post office?
I see you standing at the
Daryaganj bus station my dear friend,
I waive at you but my shadow melts
away from the iron bars and seeps
into the bloody soil.
The sunlight dust eats away my
footprints, one walk at a time:

So i shout at you, in the
Only language I understand:

"Jhelum is not dead in your words,
it's alive in them"!

-

Bullets are a part of your breakfast now,
gun powder, an easy cheese spread,
you look outside and they drop the anchor,
iceberg is closer than anyone'd imagined!

So you drink an extra ale,
and sing "CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE"
for ol' time's sake
as sleep pulls you away with a rope
and you fly towards the deck.

The deck is cold
and your feet colder,
as you look around to see the zenith
painted bluer than the sea.

There are clouds in your eyes
but none in the sight
So you jump out looking for rainbows;

The dream opens up at a garden
and now, flowers are a part of your
breakfast !

-

sjsj

-

hshg

-