If I’am you,
you are me
and that’s all
than
we are us.
If I’am you,
you are me
and that’s all
than
we are us.
Auspicious rings are exchanged holy priest
with a same weird slurp proclaims
them man & wife, little did they
they know, the perpetual struggle
is the fate they signed for.
From now on they are soul mates
in epic fashions of their parents who
till lived agreed on almost nothing,
It’s all but the lawful decree…
After years of challenge against a planned
disregard, one will succumb take a
beat and offer incessant yeses
impromptu head-nodes, several
conceited smiles, a reassurance
that I am still listening,
An affirmation that the ring from Christies
is still shining bright, then there are days
of extortions, money- launderings just
when situation seems under control
bachelor St. Valentines is approaching
with 1000-dollar bills…
More blackmails and menaces are insight
monstrous-in-law are heard knocking
on the front-doors, opportunist kids
slid through back-doors waiting for
the right moment, siding always
with the opposite party.
Finally silent negotiations are made on
the dinner tables, where sizzling hot
pies are served, each disgruntled
soul thinking I deserve the best
piece of that pie…
The moment when your glance fell on me
rivers of lust flew surging so many emotions
opening fissures of my soul, but as I stretched
my hand to feel the warmth of that glint, it
evanesced into a fourth dimension, as I
lay sunken in golden bed of desires, each
cell in my body bathed in your after-shadow,
that amorous silhouette engraved on my
bronze heart, aching for one last time
the perfect rapture of bodies ,for the final
communion of my parched lower lip with your
upper lip, where dwells million diamond
dew drops, my sole pathway to
Elysium after death!
In the deepest gorges of heart
dwells a child-like puny
little blaze,
A minuscule bright topazic
infant flame which glows in
the darkness of shrewd
world of the
grown ups
The little flame never fades,
for it protects the naive
hearts, from falling
prey to the coldness
of the corrupt
The child-like hearts like oasis
remain lush and green
despite cruel parched
sands of the
grown-ups.
Hearts of ashen copper refuse to
erode away in surprise torrential
downpours,
Adamant and resolute not to dissolve
in scorching heats & mighty
tempests they stand
their grounds .
For hearts of ashen copper are deftly
crafted to withstand the snobbery
of thundering bolts.
But the ruby hues wither away against
cold lovers who carry in their raven
souls tall blazing fires of basal
vengeance.
For hearts of ashen copper are no match
for the insecure prudish sires who
tremble harder than those
dying trees
The sturdy scarlet hues simply snap
against the jolts of venemous
breaths and indifferent
sighs !
Hour my body was crafted, it was-not a skilled
goldsmith or the master strokes of Vinci’s or
Raphael’s nor was ever any
Michael Angelo .
But a humble iron-smith who did the menial
job, took his rusted hammer and a dagger
carrying stains of dried blood to chisel
me-over the blazing flames.
For I as woman were to be tried and tested , my
smiles were to be scrutinized from every angle
like dumb Mona-Lisa gilded in golden
frames of Parisian museums
My walks were to be controlled like those ugly
dolls with small feet, and pangs of thirsts
denied with lack of cascading wines.
Silent saline tears shed on altars of the suffering
suffering were to be shrouded with blackest
mascaras, and locked away in the folds
of satin pillowcases!
A sense of doom of a cruel persecution always
hovered, dreams were kept in check,secret
lovers were sailed away so far on those
dilapidated boats..
Prim and proper, a society lady I glided on the
white marble halls of my castle of gloom , swiftly
learnt to smile with cockiness at trivialities
while serving teas with burnt hands ..
From the golden window I envied the lives of few
lucky concubines , goddesses of their carnal
brothels, they kept their freedom by bartering
their rounded Alps and whiffs Of fertile
Amazonian gorges.
Envious I wandered why my freedom was sold for
few dinners and fake smiles,while scars on their
manhandled bodies seemed to glow my mutilated
heart was to be a forever mystery, hiddden safely
behind a giant sapphire.
While those unknown harlots burnt out by making
out with thousand lovers , I a godly woman simply
faded polishing a giant sapphire,
day in and out…
I’ve filled the voids of my soul with
slants of words, the curvatures of
alphabets to gratify the endless
nights of effervescent
passions.
In the deepest abyss of malevolent
nights, I’ve implored the meanings
of your desertion through the
arches of letters.
The denied kisses through the
strokes of symbols, the dearth
of touch with caresses of
half-formed letters on crisp
blank papers.
At times I am riding on scripts
while others overwhelmed
under their weighty connotations,
you see my love words
never fail!
For they can fill up empty papers,
hinge together differing
borders, like the elastic
ropes you can stretch
them to suit bleak
realities of life.
In your eyes I found my redemption, yes
in your bewitching eyes, not in some astute
scriptures or shrines.
It was all in one glance that I savored the
rare nectar of heavens which angels
boasts of.
Reclaimed from the rubles of past, resurrected
from the debris of bygone life,
Immersed in your seraphic radiance a born
again the moment you cast your
eyes on me.
Let us you and I once again
meet beneath the vast skies
hold hands and take long walks
In shadows of blushing trees of fall
on embellished carpets of florescent leaves
pour out the maladies of the souls
Listen in serenity few beats of our hearts
narrate to each other the ancient tales
of shooting-stars and broken hearts
Solitary nights and the bleeding cores
while taking youthful sips of scarlet
wines flowing from the goblets of deep-sighs
Your fingers engraved on my wrists
souls fusing with souls, hearts-
melting with hearts
Let us you and I once again
meet beneath the vast skies…
Behold darling and just look at my face,
do I need more ruby on the lips?
or need to walk alluring with sweeping hips?
Maybe I should too get bulbous bones fixed!
But love my darling is not a spectacle
No! Love is no rosy cheeks or her
dimpled face.
Poets of past who sighed deep and longed
for the fairer beings all turned blind!
Beauty doesn’t rest under your heels
Lures are not in bosoms but in depths of souls
I can arch my brows high if you feel
but you see you will again run up the hill
to find some jawbones are missing still!
Mistake not my tenderness for frailty
Or mark my words for random triviality!
Let’s not avoid me today as always in haste
Behold darling and just look at my face!