Ballad…..

I bleed of the color pink,
The rose withered and mixed with dirt,
Of sometimes that brew a sharp cacophony,
That meddles with my mind,
My body already numb,
My eyes often plays games,
My fingertips as they lose their prints,
Sensations of crisp mahogany,
The freshly cut lavender,
That blooms over the crescent of the moon,
I sometimes hear your name,
And see a mirage over the oasis you left for me,
Water made of gold,
I am always thirsty,
As I bleed of the color pink,
My clothes drenched with my nerves,
I slowly bury myself,
With sand over my nostrils,
And ask my eyes to take some rest,
I dream of you,
And your dancing ballad……

Cold Brew

My words brew a cold stillness,
In the mornings when I am sore,
As insomnia scares away my sleep,
And insecurities cripple my legs,
I drip onto parchments made of skin,
My blood, my sweat and the ink in the color of my eyes,
I find you in my kingdoms of prosperity,
As reality burns me down…….

Peace

The wind that carries in it,
The cold of the distant glacier,
That melts everytime it hears your name,
A ballad of sweet symphony,
And the Oh so petite heart of mine,
Why do you beat so more,
The wind that carries in it,
Your perfume made of gold,
It breaks the chains ancient,
Rusted and crippled with dust,
The wind brings me peace,
Just like that kiss of yours……

Carnations

A flower slowly that hugs the air,
Opening up its petal for the outside world,
A melody that catches ears adrift,
And makes them wonder the soil it stands in,
Clenching the little pebbles like the hands of a newborn,
Its almost miraculous that nothingness creates something spectacular,
Out of things extraordinary,
That mingle around the dust settled,
A similar kind of love,
A man brings for his woman,
Sweet, discrete, wrapped in layers of lavender,
That slowly unravel and fills the air with fragrances eternal,
He holds her hands with the utmost sincerity,
Gentle and firm like the tendrils of Fuchsia,
How hard a man can love,
They are quick to ask,
Just like the oysters buried in the sand,
They bear pearls spectacular,
It kills them to love her,
They rejoice as she comes out pristine,
For the world to see,
Admire and fall in love,
He lies on the ground motionless,
For his love is complete,
For the world to see,
A man loves discretely,
Just like the air that hugs a flower slowly,
Its fragrance that travels around the globe,
Like carnations in the sea……..

Best friend

I wish I could hear you speak,
A sweet slow symphony,
Music to ears, the orchards that bloom,
Fruits incessant over the ledges of rainbow,
Brewed eloquently, just like a perfect rhythm,
But I carry you in my heart,
That sometimes remind me of you,
As I caress the winds and lay down my palm,
Thinking of you,
My old best friend……

Colour Red….

Her dreams were packed in his wrists,
As he flew too close to the Sun,
What would happen if I could touch it,
The Sun with my palms dark,
He would often tell her as they lay down,
On the fresh cut grass, burdened with mist,
Maybe you will burn your hands,
She would often think silently,
A thought malign, something dark,
Hit him while he tried to stay on the ground,
I will touch the Sun today,
Who will come to know,
He touched the Sun and it felt heavenly,
The Sun had skin so clear,
And beamed of the colour golden,
He came down unexpectedly,
Or some would say,
The Sun couldn’t accept incest,
He came crashing down,
His palms burning,
Smelled of rotten blood,
As she caught him,
Lay down carefully,
Looked at his hands,
Touched them,
Her dreams had vanished,
Tarnished by the colour red……

She breathes….

She slowly breathes life into me,
The otherwise mundane,
Decapitated meaning of rhyme,
Brings me news of places I had left,
In utter jittery, callousness of that time,
Carries me sometimes, pushes me the other,
The chains that bound my valleys of lime,
She surely knows her way around the rough edges,
Some of her and even of mine,
It’s hard I tell her when she inquires,
My head down, the weight of the unknown,
That shrivels my nails,
And burn my sky dry,
I sometimes look into her eyes,
For they sing me a sweet melody,
Bravo! my heart shouts,
The hands clap in applause,
And I lay down,
In her lap,
As she covers the sun,
With an eclipse golden,
Like a river that sobs through the agitating night….

Mighty…

She speaks of places,
Dipped in perfumes musky,
And skies of the color red,
Where oceans meet the mountains,
And rivers caress the snow,
Birds sometimes freeze in time,
Flowers bloom each second,
She dreams of lands,
Covered with mist,
Where boats sail on the land,
And messages are carried on the lips,
I meet her there sometimes,
When her storms calm,
When the tsunamis settle,
I hold her hands,
Cold from the incessant rains,
And hold her tight,
Pull her closer,
She sleeps in places like this,
In my arms sometimes,
I hold her head,
And move my fingers through her hair,
Sing her a song,
She sleeps peacefully,
For she already has the strength,
And I,
A mortal being,
Powerless in-front of her,
Lie down next to her,
She sleeps peacefully,
And I just see her…….

Ink

My bed knows stories,
A night when the windows,
Splurged cold winds onto my bare chest,
Shivers cracked my heels,
A weight heavy,
An anchor tied to a ship,
It knows my stories,
Mixed with the whiskey I spilled,
Glass broke and pierced my skin,
Still embedded in my stomach,
The marks stretched,
I sleep on it most of the times,
Belly on the bottom,
For it brings me lullabies,
Simple, just like the tick tock of my clock,
My bed knows stories,
Most of it,
Just like the ink I emboss these days…..

Mist

My eyes see threads of mist,
Entangled around your petite neck,
Like a festoon of fresh flowers,
Blossoming with the day,
They slowly cover up your chest,
And all that lies beneath it,
Happiness and a tinge of malady,
For they sing songs,
Those pull me closer to you,
Slowly but surely,
I desire someday to be a part,
A pearl of your necklace someday,
The admiration priceless,
Eternal and unbound……

Closer…..

I won’t kiss you today,
Your lips made of temptations,
Heavenly even for the clouds,
Your voice muted,
I wish to hear you speak,

I won’t strip you naked,
Not today,
For I see so much more,
The clothes on your skin,
Tell stories nobody dared to listen,

I won’t make love to you,
For I want you to see,
The curves on your body,
Hidden from the world,
Your very own,

Lie down as I hold your hands,
Hold them tight and soft,
Slowly strolling towards a bliss,
A fantasy turning to reality,
Close your eyes,
And dissolve into mine,
For I shall bring you close,
Closer than the atomic distance…..

Identify….

My days are usually linear,
The routine kicks in as the Sun takes the first yawn,
My legs wobble first,
For they know they have to carry this body of mine,
A body of dreams and desires,
Tanned under the voracious Sun,
Dehydrated and transpiring each day,
I slowly collect pieces of myself,
Dab them with the little integrity I have left,
Left over from the day my soul died,
And the mind took over my decisions,
I bathe myself not so frequent,
The stench never goes away,
My hands still dirty,
Aqua, teal, the color of the sky,
Days pass in utter monotony,
And I depart for home,
Where the air seems a little distilled,
The wooden doors feel familiar,
Marks on the wall my very own,
I am greeted by a warm presence,
Sitting by the garden green,
Pruning the Dahlia with their wrinkled hands,
Cooking something for the heart,
I sometimes sit by them,
Not speaking,
For they know I want to be strong,
The storms have already ravished the inner beings,
A bed made of soft lullabies,
Their memories etched in my sub conscious,
The first day of school, the last day of my college,
I have heard their stories numerous times,
And could hear them a million more,
The days like these,
When the winds are a little kind,
And I can leave my worries packed in my little cardboard box,
The one my parents have kept intact,
It soothes me,
The twinkling rain that sometimes drench me,
Trekking on to the mountains of my past self,
The broken, bruised, failed, deprived,
That heals my wounds,
And stitches them happy,
I sometimes call their names in my sleep,
As their voice guides me in the strangest of times,
The times when I dare to take a leap,
Into the abyss,
The dark seems the day,
Silences eat me like termites brown,
I try to hold onto them,
The sweet riverine flow,
The estuary that sublimes into the ocean,
And breeds villages of life,
Once again,
Every time,
For I am a piece of them,
My identity of their being……………

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Holds me….

The Sun sets over me sometimes,
Slowly as it opens up its veins,
The horizon turns red,
And the clouds scatter away,
For they fear the night,
The eerie silence that disturbs them,
Nomads of the desert,
Star watchers that breathe with their twinkle,
I sing them lullabies sometimes,
Their heart races and dives down too soon,
Maybe like the Sun that sets over me,
A leap of faith they say,
A dive into the dark,
I grow wings fluorescent,
Neon lights that barge through my eyes,
Onto the sky,
The Aurora spectacular,
And slip into a cocoon golden,
The warmth of her skin,
The color of her blood,
The Sun sets over me sometimes,
And she holds me tight……

Touch…

I crave for the sensation,
The blood that oozes out of my December skin,
Dry, thick, viscous,
That covers up my pores,
For it carries deep within itself,
Affairs of our bodies and mind,
The days when nothing could separate us,
Long, moist, infinite nights of passion,
We carved a piece of ourselves,
On the annals of time,
Volcanic eruptions, the calm before the storm,
I crave for your body,
The oxytocin that flooded my mind,
And the heart that pumped blood,
Everywhere except my breath,
That fell short whenever we kissed,
For you breathed for me,
And I collected stars for you,
I crave and crave so much more,
The dripping sweet and sonorous,
Your touch,
My end and beginning…..