DEAR LOVER

Dear Lover,

For staying apart so long
When I see you, I'll not fuse with you
Right away. I will not find your lips 
With mine, though my thirst begs to be quenched
I'll not rush to embrace you first thing
I'll not give you a firm, business-like handshake 
Like we haven't given each other distant orgasms
I'll not ruffle your hair like you're a child 
Because I'd want to kill any first-time awkwardness
With silly informality. I'll not caress your leg
With mine, I'll not brush my fingers with yours
Clandestinely, like I didn't mean it
When I see you for the very first time
For all these times I've longed to comfort you
To take you in my arms, wishing I were with you
I would press my burning lips to your forehead
For all these times I've longed to, but couldn't

TO MY SISTER

For Sharmada. 


You're my garden of poems

You're my book of colorful pictures
I turn the pages of with reverence
Each pixel blowing my mind

You're my box of inspiration
Out of the box

You're my magic mirror
To you, I'm always the fairest of them all

You're the slap on my wavering hand 

You're the Gretel to my Hansel
Lost in the woods along with me

You're my dragonfly, my sign
When I beg the skies, parched

You're my every unfinished poem
Including this one 

BURIED

With all my jet black tears
Scarring my cheeks in dark rivulets
And from the depths of the bloody red on my lips
Fading a little every second I stand in the rain
Waiting for you to come back for me
I miss digging pathways on your back
With my chipped nails, painted
With some common, glittery color
As my complexion thins to who I really am
I wonder if it was I who really loved you
Or all the layers peeling off of me now
Burying me underneath it all

~

If I promise to share my rainbow with you
Would you blow your gloomy clouds to me
So I can get drenched in your rain?
I will divide the bow into two 
And give you half crayon pieces to sketch with
Will you love me enough to remain bent
Over a canvas for hours and hours
And show me a portrait of me I've never seen?

~

This one's for you. You know who you are. 

Here's the deal
I give you an orgasm
You give me a poem

I want to taste your fear in your kiss
The haste to feel all of me
Before I slip through your fingers

Hold my D cups with reverence
Worship me like I'm your goddess

Return me to me
With no scratches, bruises,
Breaks, tears, cracks

Never forget
I'm yours only on loan

~

You're like that one poem I really liked
Whose words dance before my eyes
Long after I finished reading it
That poem which I'd studied over and over
Forgetting my hunger and thirst

You're the nebulous darkness
The vertigo that threatens to devour me
When I forget to feed my hunger for food
Feeding only my hunger for you

Some people would say that
The lines of destiny
Engraved on our palms
Made us find each other

That's why your hand and mine belong
Like partners in the oldest dance
Brushing against each other
Touching, and slowly surrendering
Our fingers entwined in the perfect embrace
Our bodies can only mildly imitate

You're like the poem I start writing
Whenever I'm faced with blankness
The lightest shadow, the elusive memory

The assignment I would never part with
Deadline after deadline

You're like the words I'd quote
Over and over again
Each time relishing the feel of the syllables
Like a long abstaining drunkard 
Wetting his parched throat with his favorite drink
The familiar taste of you filling all my senses
Leaving me out of control, intoxicated
Powerless and begging for more

BLEEDING LOVE

With my eyes closed, I lie  
On sheets wet with the salt
Of my tears, and the warmth 
Of my blood

And it didn't hurt that 
The life of your touch slowly receded
The darkness doesn't hurt me
But the gentle thud of the door behind you
Proof that I'm well and truly alone
After you made me bleed all my love 

~

For all the love I bought from you
I paid you by not being myself
If I ever forget to pretend
When I open my oyster palms 
Clammed shut together for days
Will the butterflies tightly cocooned
Till today, take flight
Stealing all my color in their wings?

TO MY CAT

This one's for Felix Thomas Garfield, the light of my life.

My cat sleeps like a painting
The curve of his closed eye
Like a careless line drawn
From one lazy stroke
Of the artist's brush
Hugging his own bushy tail
Like it's his teddy bear

When he cannot sleep
He glides (he doesn't walk
He's not a common pet animal)
Gracefully like a flowery breeze
Floating just above the ground
Towards the closed glass window
(Because he's a tad adventurous
Skydiving is his favorite pastime)
To sit on the sill, looking at the moon
Like it's a reflection of his snowy face
In the pure blue waters of the sky

His Catness doesn't believe in making sounds
Without a definite purpose, so he speaks
For pages and pages with his silence
Thick and dense, like a heavy fog
And if you're deaf in your sleep like me
He'll train you to wake up with a start
At the slightest little meow, 
A whispered secret from his whiskered face

Who needs night-lamps
Or precious stones
When you have those topaz eyes
Glittering strangely in the darkness
Focused on you, piercing you
As if asking you a silent question 
You know not the honest answer to

His eyes, the color of the richest oil
Have been known to soften 
With love and understanding 
As he put his pudgy paw on my hand
As if to say that I'm not alone
In the presence of such feline greatness

His eyes, the color of molten amber
Have been known to widen with worry
Thinking I was in life-threatening danger
(But I was only singing - another story
For another ode)

Like the impatient subject of an artist
He circles me with his typical curiosity
As his knowing black-slit eyes take note
Of his human's fingers tapping away
On the computer's keyboard
It's imperative he has the last word
Because he's the only sensible one
In the entire family
So I'll stop here 
His two cents:
;===========,.45re

FAIRYTALE

Can we just go back to being strangers
And get to know each other 
All over again?
There are some books
You know how they end
With a kiss and a happily ever after
But I want to read you again and again
Because I'd relive knowing you
Maybe even a million times, perhaps,
And never stop being surprised 
At how perfectly you fit in my arms 
As if I deserve you

PLANT A KISS

This one is for Sharmada.

You planted a kiss the other day -
I took good care of it,
Fed it water and light and 
Tender, loving care,
And now it's grown into a tree.
Come to me, let the tree
Shower you with a million flowers.

PEACEMAKING

Before I even realized
You've built fortresses around 
Your heart and mine,
You've dug a neat moat between us,
Released crocodiles and sharks into it
(I don't even know if they can coexist,
But we managed just fine, right?) 
And my drawbridge's drawn up,
Isn't coming down anytime soon

And now you send me an olive branch
On a fucking grand gondola
That my army only wants to shoot down

THAT POINT IN YOUR LIFE

(Photograph by Kimberly Kinrade, kimberlykinrade.com)

When that giant-sized, razor-sharp cloud
Called uncertainty hangs over your head
Like a heavy guillotine blade
Glistening with venomous glee.

When you know for a fact
That you just have no more fight
Left in any nook or cranny
Of your worn, tired, weary body,
And you just decide
To hug yourself
And hope, silently,
That the swirling currents
Carry you away
To someplace nice.

When you know that the time has come
For you to stop being choosy
And all you have before you
Is one single option 
That you're loath to take.

When you meet the subjects 
Of your poems from so long ago
That it feels like a different life
And you can't help but marvel
At how even insignificant people
Could make you write back then.

When you wonder with a smile
Whether, whenever you said
"I love my job" or 
"I'm happily in love,"
You really meant it
Because there's no such thing 
As "happy in love," is there?
Because making silly jokes
About your better half
Is your new regular habit
It's how you pretend
Your marriage is healthy.

When you remember, suddenly,
That you told yourself, repeatedly
When you grew up,
The world would know you 
For whatever you'd be doing,
And now, somewhere along the way,
You'd changed course,
Given up, because reality
Was waiting to be accommodated.

When you look at yourself in the mirror
And it's not your dimples
Or that strategically positioned mole
Not even the scars, the wrinkles,
The crow's feet that came out of nowhere
That you see
But the reflection of the one person
You'd vowed never to be.

When all you can taste now
Is only fear or bitterness.

And when, knowing all this,
You look for that mask again
To step out and masquerade
That all is well, that you're still
That ten- or twelve-year-old
Who sternly told yourself
That you'd never become
One of them.

DON'T ASK

(Image: Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh)

The night is my dark, diamond-studded cloak.
Don't ask me why I prefer it 
Over the bright nakedness of the day.

THIRST

(Image from suggestsoft.com)

This unquenchable thirst for you

This burning need to gather all the pieces
Of the gigantic jigsaw puzzle that is you

Like kids madly collect all the freebies 
That come with the packet of cereal

And put together everything
In one single night
To see a beautiful sunrise
Unfold before me

To understand your roots,
To water those roots,
Give you everything 
You've missed, growing up

To quench your thirst, 
And thus try, but in vain,
To quench mine

YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU NEED TO WIPE YOUR GLASSES

(Image from itsallmaya.com)

Because you're looking
At the world through glasses
All fogged up 
With just two little circles
For eye-holes

~

(Image from mymodernmet.com)

I'm torn between loving you in flesh and blood,
and loving your distorted shadow on the broken wall.

Even when we're standing apart, miles away,
I still imagine our shadows are kissing each other.

The farther you walk away from me, 
the more I hope you're walking a circular path,
and that it will lead you right back to me.

Because, somehow,
it's not your fault 
that the man I fell in love with 
and you 
are two very different men.

HELPLESS

The gold chain around my neck
Tightens like a noose
My anklet is a ball and chain
The sunlight glinting on 
The glitter on my body
Is rocks being pelted at me
Trapped in a web of gold
Watching you falling into darkness
But unable to give you a hand
(Bangles are weighing them down)
Helpless, drowning 
In a golden quicksand

Can you still love me?

 

CONVERSATIONS

(Image: The Conversation by Piotr Antonow from fineartamerica.com)

Our conversation is like a boulder
Rapidly sinking to the bottom of an ocean.
Keep it afloat, and you feel so drained, 
But give up, let it go, and how it goes!
Let the boulder hit the ocean's floor,
And the silence tells all the stories 
That our loudness could never remember.

PLEASE DON'T LOVE ME

 
Please don't love me 
In spite of anything -
My height, my weight, 
My color, my sun sign,
My caste, my creed, 
My family and their choices.
If you love me, don't make it about
The baggage I come with,
The skeletons in my closet, 
My warts, my scars, 
My grey hair, my crooked teeth,
My job that doesn't pay.
Let it be because
You've discarded all those layers
Until you found me,
And all my love 
That shines like a beacon
Calling out to you.

NO NERUDA OR SHELLEY

 (Image: Candle in the Moonlight by George Page from fineartamerica.com)

No Neruda or Shelley
Or Lord Byron or Rumi
Could have made me
Smile the same way that you did
When you took out the crumpled
Piece of paper with barely 
Three lines, or four, scribbled on it,
With a shy, sheepish smile
And read out a simple poem
You'd written with me on your mind.
No fancy words, no subtleties,
No grand lyrical gestures -
You're not proud of your attempt;
You tell me a fifth grader would do better.
You have no idea that
The candles, the moonlight, your eyes,
And just you are haikus
Written with love, just for me. 

THAT SMILE

(Image from here)

That smile on my lips
When I'm sleeping?
You met me in my dreams
And put it there.

REFLECTION

 

(Image from http://www.123rf.com)

My reflection and I
Meet at the line
Between two worlds.

ROLLER COASTER

(Image from zazzle.com)

You're my roller coaster,
Because my tummy does a little flip
Every time I come into contact with you.

I DREAMED A DREAM

Gave birth to this one after another of my delightfully unusual and wonderfully weird conversations with my friend, Sharmada Shastry.

 

(Image from dailypainters.com, Cottage on the Hill by Nita Leger Casey)

I want to live on a hill
In a little wooden cottage.
I want to be a reclusive writer,
Living all alone with my cat,
And run the quaint bookstore next door,
My cat's bell 
The only sound for miles around.
The bookstore will also be a library,
With tall shelves lined with yellowing paperbacks.
I want to be a  teacher at the local school.
I want to be a babysitter,
A children's book reader,
And although sequestered, somehow
Also the friendly neighboring "aunt"
Who wears the thickest-rimmed glasses
And bakes the most delicious pies.
I will lure the children with my cat and my pies,
But I will have an ulterior motive -
I will introduce them to the utopia within every book.   
My friends will come and go 
Along with the mist that glides in through the windows,
Their arrival and departure punctuated 
By the tinkling of the bell on the door,
Their presence as temporary as the mist's,
Their comings and goings as permanent as the mist's.
Everyone knows everyone where I will live.
I will live all by myself on the hill with my cat,
Something more than a random someone,
And I will cease to exist, and begin to live
In a beautiful world where I will fully belong.

APHRODISIAC

 (Image from http://candy.about.com)

"What is the most potent aphrodisiac?" 
You ask.

"Honey.
Chocolate.
Oysters."

"Deer penis.
Rhino horn."
You chuckle.

I smile.

"Your smile," you say.
  
"Almonds.
Chili peppers.
Figs."

"Our love."

Finally we've agreed.

STUPID LOVE

 

(Image from http://alertageralonline.blogspot.in)

Stupid guy I'm addicted to
who isn't around now.

Stupid withdrawal effect.

Stupid ego. Stupid pride.

Stupid random wall 
between people.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Stupid competition in everything
but in being the first to give in.

Stupid hesitation to say,
"I love you."

Stupid leash that holds me back
from running into your arms.

Stupid joy at knowing you love me.

Stupid feeling of happiness
when you know perfectly well
I'm writing stupid poetry
thinking of stupid you,
even when I stupidly lie
that it's not about you.  

Stupid joy at loving you so much.

Stupid love.

Stupid love
that fills my stupid heart
and makes me do stupid things. 

Stupid, stupid love.

 

THE MISFIT AND THE MOON

Inspired by something Sharmada said, and is dedicated to that woman of poetry who talks, laughs and spills sheer poetry with her every move.

 (Image from http://vidisha-beyondwords.blogspot.in)

I don't belong in this world.
But where could I go?

I could live on the moon.
But if I lived on the moon,
How would I see the moon?

I don't belong in this world.
But I stay on.

TRAPPED

 (Image from http://byeshane.blogspot.in)

I'm the Rapunzel
Trapped 
In the castle I built in the air.

LOVE BITE

 

(Image from anab.deviantart.com)

Lightly skewed, unshapely, 
Yet proudly prominent on her neck,
The jewel itself doesn't glow.
But her face does.

BUTTERFLY EFFECT

 

(Image: "butterflies in your stomach" by Little Body Big Heart Photography)

So this is butterfly effect.
You, me,
And all the butterflies in my tummy.

I knew it had something to do with chaos.

MUSIC EVERYWHERE

 

(Image from fineartamerica.com)

I think you came into my life
Welcomed by a big band orchestra
Playing happy love songs

Now you've stayed
Looks like the band has too
For suddenly
There's music everywhere

THE ULTIMATE CONNECT

 (Image from www.fanpop.com)

I guess even if we aren't actively looking, the one thing we all really want, deep down inside, is to feel the ultimate connect with someone.

What's 'the ultimate connect?'

It's just the connection you feel with a person who agrees with you on most things. You say such a person would bore you? Even if you're the type that likes to argue and be challenged, you'd want to feel the connect with someone who likes these same things - who enjoys disagreeing with you, who likes to play this game, and not someone who'd feel drained and frustrated at the end of it. 

The elusive 'soul mate.' 

The person who'd be the other you. Not like you. This person's just you. In another form. 

He/she just 'gets' you. You don't have to find the right words. Even if you use all the wrong words, even if you use words from a Mandarin dictionary, they'd still 'get' you.

The person who can make you smile even if they've just appeared at the horizon, a tiny dot, and they're getting closer to you. Just the thought of the time you've spent with them makes you smile. Just the thought of the time you're going to spend with them makes you smile. 

Just the thought of them makes you smile.

The flip side, as much as this person knows what turns you on, they also know what ticks you off. They can say the words that will lash at you, that will make you cringe, flinch, bleed, ache. 

The funniest part is, this person is mostly nothing like the stuff of your imagination or dreams or nightmares.

The saddest part is, this person is mostly the one you're terrified of loving or afraid to admit you love.

The person who inspires you to write things like this. 

The only muse.