Misfortune
life, Literature, poetry

Midnight Poet

A midnight poet,

I sneak into raven

nights when they

give in to bottomless

slumbers , I see what

they turn a blind eye.

I endure much more than

what fall in my share.

I burn midnight oil to

weave sepia colored

webs of words in the

sooty corners of my

imaginary castles .

An undertaker I dig up

the icy pains from my

grey gravish heart.

You accuse me of taking

imaginary flights but

my only fault lies in the

annoying habit to feel more and

understand a little.

Yes I am emaciated and cold,

so I sew every night the cozy

blanket of my words to keep me

warm, the characters I

embroider stay awake to

keep the loneliness at bay

I am the midnight poet.

feminine, life, Love, poetry, woman

Hungry

I swayed and soared

in the clatter of pots

and pans, as the

sultry aromas of spices

aroused in me some

hidden desires.

Though I am the

cook and the Gardner,

such is my plight

that I am not offered

even a single bite.

Knowing there is no

respite, I scrapped the

waste morsels off

the site, you wished

a mild good night then

closed your eyes as

as I lay hungry on

your wild side with a

slight martyred pride.

Humour, Inspiration, life, Nature

The Disaster Artist_Reflection

I recently watched, ‘The Disaster Artist’ by James Franco adapted on Tommy Wiseau critical catastrophe, ‘The Room’, hailed as the worst movie of all times. But despite the negative reviews the movie has earned a cult status. Since I’ve watched the movie I can’t stop thinking as to how we treat people who are different. I for once greatly admire Tommy Wesue who despite all the odds and Hollywood elitism decided to go ahead and make a movie out of his own pocket( spent 6 million dollars). After-all how many of us have the courage to go against the tide, the public opinion and the perseverance to make our dreams come true. I

I am not in for giving unsolicited advices ( I am too arrogant for that) nor my poetry is about hope( myself a hopeless) but if ever I’ve to offer my two cents, I’ll say follow your passion. Don’t give a damn to what your critics say, believe! There is no future, it’s just today now so make it happen. Why wait for a special moment? These trying times have made one thing clear that life is unpredictable, so let’s follow our passions before the pendulum slips out of our hands. Don’t be afraid to be different, embrace your quirkiness like Tommy Wiseau.

And yes do watch ‘ The Disaster Artist’ it’s on Netflix. If you happen to watch the movie do share with me what you feel.

feminine, life, Love, poetry

By Myself

Late night sirens and cheap

microwave popcorns,

an empty Chardonnay

and mounting bills

Why am I always in

this myself?

My mind racing

am I counting worries

by sugar teaspoons?

Frantically cleaning the

cemented floor to rub

of the coffee stains.

Will I ever make it? Is

the question many are

asking but why I be the one?

I smile and sing rhymes

longing for some

praise, after-all it’s

not a crime. Fears and

worries linger but

there is hope but

hope is dangerous and

uncertainty too sneaky.

Shall I make the first move

but It might never work.

Let me smile and just

keep it to myself.

No I’m not an open book.

I will throw fake smiles

at your placid jokes offer

an icy kiss but I rather be

a mystery and be by myself.

night
Legend, life, Love, poetry

Destiny

A sorcerer once looked

at my palm and held my

arm to enthrone destiny

in the deep criss-cross lines.

For I was young with crimson

blood , momentary bubble

bursted at my insolence.

The sneaky destiny flew out

of my palm and sat on a

very high wall.

“ Now what?” I asked

The sorcerer took my

destiny in his shack.

Resolute I never showed

a palm or counted stars

for Mars or Venus,

nothing is ever sealed

in gold.