Marmalade sky
blushing over gentle waters.
A sight before my eyes.
A wish upon my eyelash.

-

Uninspired,
I sulk.
I try too hard
to put something on paper,
but what good is a poetry
from a person uninspired.
So I’ll just leave it here.

-

If words had fragrance
I’d smell of your verses.

-

I can almost always tell when my friends are in love or are on the
cusp of falling in love, because that’s usually when they look
unusually beautiful. You know, that certain kind of glow radiating
on their skin owing exclusively to love, that is just undeniable.
There definitely has to be love blossoming somewhere in their heart
for that kind of baffling bloom on their face. And I’ve never really
gone wrong about it, because it hardly ever happens otherwise that
I find myself gazing at their face for awkward lengths of time while
they’re casually talking to me and I’m simply trying to comprehend
all the wonders this thing called love can do.

-

It's beautiful how letters carry contradictions.
The worn out corners , creases vulnerable to tear on the slightest carelessness , discoloration of the page , all reveal an element of presence , in the sense that letters gracefully decay with time.
Yet amidst the decay , one can sense an element of eternity in the emotions that remain forever embedded in the impressions made on the page , and in the myriad range of feelings those handwritten words elicit every time they're read.

-

On a drizzly summer afternoon ,
he got lost in a known place,
where soft notes of cocoa butter and maple
perfumed her dusky skin
and a dimple adorned her coquettish grin,
where he savoured the euphoric surreal bliss
of getting high on her whiskey flavoured kiss
And in that abode , all his pangs of longing
did ephemerally quell
like parched earth drunk on first drops of rain
after a long dry spell
But just in a blink of an eye,
his sweet reverie broke into a heavy sigh
as he held a requiem for his long lost love
with a glass of whiskey in his hand
and a scent of petrichor hanging in the air.

-

In all those times
when your heart
cannot sing rhymes,
On all those days
when clouds of darkness
overshadow your brilliant rays,
I will come,
to lend you my light
and make you the moon
that shines through the night
And if I'm late,
I hope you don't miss to see
life's unique chiaroscuro's
subtle beauty.

-

Now, you tell me,
I left you bereft,
blatantly forgetting ,
You slammed the door and left
Now, you call me,
to say you're coming over,
Like there's still something left
for you to carryover.
I'm not going to meet you ,
for you too must bear the pain,
feel what it is like
when someone's absence drives you insane.
But still if you're coming over,
I secretly hope you stay,
Make this house my home again,
I silently pray.
This door ,all this while, had been
yearning for your knock ,
just like my sealed heart
that died to again unlock.
Promise me once more
you won't ever leave
And I'll try once more
to grant you reprieve.

-

I take a stroll in those merry streets
where people dance to country beats.
And a symphony of colours
lanterns and lights display.
Yet I feel so blue,
words just can't say.
Just then this flirty wind undresses my messy bun,
while lending me the scent of a sweet someone.
And my restless eyes begin the searching
only to stop at this man ,so disturbingly engaging,
Smitten, I walk to him, but I slip on the way,
And I feel so embarrassed, I curse my day.
Then he holds my hand to lift me
and I smile so lame
when he says " Hello , I love you
Won't you tell me your name?"

-

Could I be more envious of the sun?
Light years apart ,
yet everyday
he peers through your window,
to kiss you good morning
until you wake up
from your slumber dreams
And here I lie
hopelessly on my bed
longing to sneak a look
at my sunshine.

-