Hiding
Hilariously
His
Healings
His
Hysterical
Hymns
Hovering
Hate

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if Death wasn’t a thing
two words...
hell and heaven
reside in life itself
if death wasn’t a real thing...
love notes more often
on fridge magnets
and LED screens
to make
an another utterance of acidic phrases
so soothingly
that aches
to forgive by another so easily,
love wouldn’t be celebrated sometimes as a milestone
sometimes in a disguise,
if death wasn’t a real thing
each one will be an open devil not just coated with things that make the heart soft...
There is bliss in each ones name
so as D
E
A
T
H
it has something for endless admiration
sometimes
forgotten tales
in old - pale - yellow - black & white
photo albums
to be told to
next tiny production...

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Let’s get crazy,
he said
I amazed on his muse!
A touch sensation
withers all painful doubts
It’s his touch of hands
on the pan instead of her
The pan got heat up
before he could allume the fire,
If the pan is this way
then what’s the condition of her?
She is red, redden, reddened,
in her lipstick hopes
on his collar and neck
Yet she stayed
where she was,
Oil on pan got sizzled
He broke an egg, cook it
and served on a palette
To the creativity she thought
Would happen one afternoon
in her next reincarnation!
The burnt omelette
gave fire to their love
She galloped across Europe
to sing an unwritten melody
slowly uttered
‘I love you’ in his ears.

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Hollow cheeks and dead eyes,
After sitting for a while
Pressing hard with knuckles,
Starring in one direction
I aged
I aged in a while,
To expect a change
A change left me forlorn,
A change??
No!!!
The expectation
Change was me
Disillusioned
Wrapped myself in coffin serenade
Shhhhhhhhh......
You won’t be heard
The sound outside is so loud
Will you?
Will you still?
Will you still be sitting
with knuckles against the
hollow cheeks and dead eyes?

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The callous acts would have been the unstoppable storytelling,
Mellifluous chats of achievements and failures over tea in porcelain cups and saucers
Don’t you ever think vulnerable is being alone
I know you though
Alike as always
Invisible things would have been celebrated without any delay
Little things are easy to acknowledge
Ain’t I’m asking the sun to stay
I’m happy in it’s warmth until next day
Late promises are dead
Isn’t it?
Winter and Grey moon between us had been so long that when the clouds hung low to submerge into thy breath
T’is falling of bliss of ours
As t’is now as a dead I still want...

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accomplice
Aren’t you
On failing more
Shattering sand castle dreams
Overnight
Courageous
Are you
To create mizpah
not being apologetic for
trying
Feeling
numb tonight
Is okay yet
Chaos in you must
Survive

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Just like memories
The touch of them on my cheeks
My lips neither lifted nor twisted
Stood in a poker dream
Trying to inhale energies from the galaxies
Exhale the yesterdays
Swirling as tornadoes
Of bent shadows
Includes qualities of enemies
Out of the blue
I’m detached from the barriers
Barriers created by none but me...

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Free to choose
Being a jack of all trades
Even to split your hair into two braids
Irrespective of age
Adorn them with ribbons daisies spill at every strands
I cycle down the haunted hills
Basically the colony I live in
In the winds of winter chills
Take a nap amidst of robust harvests
Inhaling the qualities of wilder weeds
They taste like bittersweet chocolates

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Old preferences in modern world
Choosing clay made cup over mellifluous bone china,
Raising voice against scarlet scaffolding superstitions and stereotypes
Where everything is quitter but judgements
I adore the dewdrops on green climbers and dulcet daffodils
The wind sings to me you are free

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The colour of my lips
Looks so divine
On the worst of days,
Amidst of utter chaos,
Smudge colossal painted smokey,
Lady, you are fucking gorgeous!

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