Tag Archives: forever

T o n i g h t.

Consider this bar on the

edge of a thousand stars

eternally yours, for t o n i g h t.


Dance joyously and whirl around,

on Saturn rings, s p i n n i n g loud,

on the turntable of time, t o n i g h t.


In whispers, sing songs of love,

and cosmic desire, fear not for

the eyes and ears, of the void

like forest fire, spread w i d e

across unending horizons,

and a w a y. Under the reds –

the greens- the blues – of

the passing-by Suns, rest

till the end of the record that plays.


And when you crash, like Icarus in flight,

and memories melt off your bones

and callously mix with the silt

of drying ocean beds,

let the caress

of those importunate waves,

the shudder of your lives and

the current that runs

[ t h e n and t h e r e ]

[ w h e n and w h e r e ]

through the veins

of your youth remind you

of the bar that was

eternally yours, for t o n i g h t.

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The rants of a madman.

It’s been long since I last picked up a pen and bled on the paper as I used to before.
It’s our third day together and I still dont understand why we were away for so long.
I think of it now and my life before you seems to be a continued state of haze.
Years, months and countless days.
We were a couple of hearts, beating together. Yet, so far apart. An unknown force, a spirit or a ghost, a supernatural entity or a religious deity. I still dont know if you’re as real as you seem or are your scars and your pain, your lies that drive me insane and your hair a shade of cyan; the color of rain, just a dream.
Today, as you stare back at me when you’re vexed. I see in your eyes, a poem that I wrote but kept hidden.
I was afraid it was too good to be destroyed, by some thousand minds and a million likes.
You lurked beneath my words and sentences, glorifying each and every one of them.
I see you paint in the middle of the night. A pleasurable sight, an artist in all her might. I dont need to write or compose any longer. No words for my sorrow, no stories of a painmonger.
You consume my heart like the poem I never wrote. Rhymes elude me. You’re a dote. A pointless mote. A heartfelt note.
You’ve driven me insane and left me too proud to ever write again.
Why shall I rhyme or type a useless whine when I’ve touched you and you’ve touched me.
Why shall I paint or ever sing again when you’ve completely driven me insane.
A lion’s glorious mane. I still dont remember my name, but I sing of yours and I don’t mind the same. Are you a damsel in distress wanting to be loved or a silly old eloquent dame.
Either way, you’re all I’ve ever dreamt of or wished upon a broken star for. You’re the poem I never wrote. A pointless mote. A heartfelt note.

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It’s raining outside.
And I sit here thinking of you.
Yet, again.
The way you smiled, your intoxicating hair.
The way you’d drip onto me, drop by drop.
Your tears, your sweat and your darkest fears.
Cell by cell, you took away my heart.
Parts of it I had kept locked away.
The way you’d sway your favorite dress, the shit you would say when you were a drunken mess.
Your stupid chuckle and your fucked up mind.
Scars on your left hand, secrets to find.
You were a bitch, and a slut sometimes.
You were a sin and a saint combined.
At times a mistake and at others you were a gold mine.
To love, to hate and to exasperate.
We were together forever as mates.
You promised to me you’d stay by my side. You were so tranquil and yet a roller coaster ride.
Your raw and sullen pieces of art.
Vows of marriage, till death do us part.
A random poem, not a sonnet and not a single matching rhyme.

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A cloud of uncertainty above me,
While I smoke away disappointments.
A homogenous mixture of alcohol and sorrows, served on rocks with a sour olive.
Drinking alone in a stone cold bar, sound of a stone cold heart in my chest.
Going through pictures of the days past, I come across us in all our glory.
You with your summer smile. Me with an unscarred hand and a soul.
We had the time of our lives together, atleast that is what I thought uptill now.
Today I understand the truth, your unseen emotions and your shallow smiles. Why the roads we drove on were barren for miles.
Why you were the first one to leave my hand and how you always remained a step back or forward.
Why your lips never curled when they touched mine, why you never blushed when I kissed your forehead.
Why you lay still every time we made love and later smoked furiously enough.
Why your love was never loving enough.
Why your words were never articulate enough.
Why your heart was never vulnerable enough.
A cloud of uncertainty, a drink of sorrow. Scars of fear and a heartbroken tomorrow.

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To be human.

To be calm with a raging tornado inside.
To be happy with a wailing mother within.
To smile when you’re about to cry.
To cry when your eyes are dry.
To walk when you want to run.
To sleep when you want to dance, and to dance when you are breaking inside.
That’s what I’ve learned of my life.
And also that happiness eventually becomes something you can purchase at Alcohol stores and small cigarette shops.
Sorrow is a part of being human.
People love being in love and yet deny themselves this simple pleasure.
To be jealous is an honest emotion and scars don’t go away with a simple lotion.

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She sits and writes a page long letter.
He calls her number every night at two.
Only for her to tear it away and for him to end it before it connects.
Two strangers on a desolate bridge.
Held together by tapes and bandages.
Some on her wrist and others on his heart.
Tears in a bottle.
A heartbreaking piece of art.
Messy hair and a loosely tied bun.
Cigeratte stubs and lines of kohl across her cheek.
A copy of Love Story by Erich Segal torn in half.
A Coldplay record playing on repeat.
A lonely room on the Upper East side of New York.
An empty heart beating in the city that never sleeps.
A beard unkept and a love, so wild, let loose.
Shards of broken glasses and empty whisky bottles.
Blades that were marred and a beauty so scarred.

A love story left incomplete in Central Park.
A lunch that was had at The Plaza Hotel.
A Sinatra song that was almost sung.

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A Beautiful Lie.

On March the first 2014,

Mary walked up to her and said I love you.

On January the third 2015,

Mary introduced her to the folks.

On March the first, of the same year,

Mary popped the big question while smiling ear to ear.

They drank bottled up stars and some meteors too,

Reminisced about the day they met, the day she said I love you.

On the eve of an April fortnight,

Dressed in white and pink,

With some doves amongst them too.

They were pronounced partners for life,

The bride could now kiss her wife.

From that day on,

They lived happily ever after.

On March the first she said I love you.

On the third of January I met her folks.

Back in her house my brother called me a dyke and asked me if I preferred some wine or some hot lesbian action with some line.

My father said I was dead to him and my mother asked me to leave the house.

As I left they all suggested I go to the Church and get myself cured.

My father even threw in a few punches and some slaps while I felt trapped.

Trapped in her love, she haunted me daily.

I managed to work and keep away the work place harassment,

But I was the office dyke, guess I couldn’t save myself from the embarrassment.

On March the first exactly one year later,

She popped the big question with a Tiffany’s ring.

She tried to laugh and even sing.

But I couldn’t stop myself from crying.

Could she tell how hard I was trying?

I said yes and she rejoiced.

I thought of empty chairs and invitations unsent.

On our wedding day we had three guests.

Her dad, her mom and a minister on rent.

I had dreamt of a father-daughter dance and a walk on the aisle,

But I guess the love of a girl, for another, is just a beautiful lie.

She stood there in pink while I was dressed in white.

She waved at me and winked at me from far away.

A smile on my face, a beautiful sight.

Later that day we became partners for life.

She finally kissed me,

My love,

My life,

My wonderful wife.

And after that day, and one later in May when little Mary came along

We lived happily ever after.

Google and love.

                   Google and love.

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