Fickle

A wall was built
Between two souls
That loved well.
But if I fly out
Of this maze
Everytime
This happens
What does it
Make me?

Smile

A childhood smile
Mirrored in two faces
In a new season of love

Unreachable

The music of voice 
Once tasted
And made forbidden

Desire of the moth for the star

Night for the morn
Is that what you are?

Apology

Who am I to give you dreams and then spread snow all over them? No one would do that if they are in their right senses. But sometimes, when nothing remains sacred anymore, there is a sense that comes with breaking rules and running away from multitudes.

Now, the words themselves have lost meaning I guess from the time I last uttered them; totally meaningless chatter full of nervous laughter that doesn’t make much sense. May be the Gods are cruel because I am cruel to you; or may be they are not.

Only time is judge as to the torture that I inflict on you by giving dreams one day and spreading it with snow the next day. Words don’t mean much do they, but let me say that I am sorry for all this mess that I make everyday! 

Kingfisher

Closure

On this visit to my hometown, I was reminded of my last visits as I walked across the River Green. The river looked like a huge sheet of dirty green water while in my memory it was always a shiny green.

The last visits were on deaths; I never cried enough though I was carrying a cross and stood brave among the wailing women. But this time, though on a happy occasion, I felt the tears as they tumbled past on my return journey.

What all things I cried for I have no clue, the wasted years in search of a mirage, the lost opportunities, the life of strife and constant unpleasantness. But it gave me clue to a puzzle: that you might become for me a mirage that I will follow to destruction. 

Beauty

It’s a craterly moon

That gets up at night

Puts on some light BB

And steps out for you.

No luminous skin

Just some BB cream

That lasts through

The entire day

With kissable lips

From Maybelline

With dark eyes

From the same

It was a fool heart

That knew no joys

That put on all this

To walk around happy

There was no bloodsign

Of joy and desire

Only a broken heart

But only sore words.

But time healed words

And the moon steps

Bright and clear

For all eyes to see.

It’s just layers of paint

Painstakingly done

From BB, CC and DD

Not what you think

You are late my dear

As always to reach

For a craterly moon

Belongs to the sonne.