Hour 9 – she

She may stab you with her sass.
She may pierce through your heart
With her thoughts and mind.
One gaze and she can ornament
Your soul with words that glitter;
One word and she will slay
Those words with her gaze!
She has learnt how to suffer.
She has learnt how to cure.
She may be ugly, impure;
Her soul may be dark, dirty;
Her mind – almost wounded crimson
Her thoughts – all bruised blue;
Her being suffocates purple everyday.
She almost dies every night.
She is perhaps an incarnation of the dark!
But she glitters and glows..
To every victim of the dark.
To some, victorious of the light.
To few, who’s crossed her way.

Hour 8 – but again

I just wanna go home..but again I don’t.
I just wanna go back
To the black, to the fade.
To the burnt sand shade.
I just wanna stand up and walk
Like yesterday.
But again, today, I don’t.

Hour 7 – autumn

I covered up the mirrors.
I avoided myself the best.
I tried not to look at that demon,
Stuck so deeply, back of my brain.
Like autumn, it had come to my life.
Had promised me beauty,
Had promised me repentance.
The demon had faked a soothing breeze,
To snatch away all my golden leaves.
To tear away what had covered me up.
And here I lay, cold, bared to the world –
Barely covering my naked soul –
Buildings? Knives? Rope? Poison?

That demon, is now a graceful lady.
She wears all my gold. Glitters all around.
Looks a lot like me.
Perhaps without my black stains.
Perhaps without my criminal colours.
Feeds on guilt. Nourishes on esteem.
To some – it’s imagination, forgery.
To some – it’s eccentricity, insanity.
To me – it’s simply my poetry.

Hour 6 – FORBID

Strangers, sandwiches. Shapes.
Friends, fridays. Fabrications.
Seduce her, sensualize her. Satisfaction?
Love? Labels! Lies!
Betrayed. Babblings.. Background..
Murder. Murmur. Melody?
Death. Debates. Dampens.

Hour 5 – Defeated

Why do the snakes
Keep creeping in my rooms
Every rain, every monsoon?
And why do I have to spend my life
Sealing the gaps I did not make?

Why does that window simply not fit
Back into its own frame any more?
Just – someone had broken it off?!
And it refuses to protect me any more?

Why does that wall still keep
Getting damp, year after year?
Still get me cold, still get me shivers
Every time I touch it?

Why does the sunshine burn
Everytime? I just want to feel the warmth.
Why does the snow bite
Everytime? I just want to feel the white.

Don’t let the past define you.

So why does the past
Keep redefining itself
Over and over?

How many mirrors should I cover?
How many windows do I close?
How many stabs? How long it takes?
How many doors and how many snakes?
How many times and how many hours?
How many faces and how many failures?

Hour 4 – melodies of midnight

Melodies of midnight!
It may kill you inside
But will always heal you back
It will embarrass you horribly
But someday will be your pride
It may be way too sweet
But sometimes, also, the spice of life
Black. Sometimes too white.
The grey melodies of the night
Melodies of midnight!

Hour 3 – the pretty poet girl

Whoa.. You’re beautiful!
But I am not. My hair is curly
And all twisted and black –
And my soul – a little bit more.

No. I am perhaps not
The pretty poet girl.
My neck ain’t draped in pearl.
Caress me in your words,
And I will drape mine
All around your soul.
I may not have
That pretty poet’s ass.
But there’s no way –
I won’t caress you in my sass.

Hour 2 – three words

Three words, love.
There were many.

Pearl. Thread. Dreams.
There was a
Love. Scald. Longing.
Melody. Muse. Voice.
There was some
Lacking. Wanting closure.
Those flavoured with
Bitterness. Pungency. Sour.
There were words!
And I fell.
Chaos. Blood. Epiphany.
I lay fallen.
A pearl. A thread. A dream.

Hour 1 – city glitters

You would have said that this photograph sucks.
I would have laughed at that.
And that would have been my favourite photograph.
Of these city-glitters.
For you were my city-glitter.
May be more. May be less. Who knows.
Tiny sparkles of light caressing the night
Across this city. Through its darkness.
And somehow this dark is now beautiful.
Just like your sparkling touch. Across my dark.
Your being still glows out despite the darkness. The guilt.
The lack of clarity. The empty chair.
And the forbidden city-glitter. The forbidden lust. (more…)