Something like a love poem


poem

Oh won’t you stay,

Let the midnight weep your absence

Run into my arms, fall unto me

Like a ripened leaf in autumn, weary

An exploding star, in all your darkness

Your rage, your light, your fire, I admire

Your vividness

Your undefined depths, I am aware

That you are, but dust

In all your magnificent glory.

But oh, won’t you stay, linger on

Like the sting of too much pineapple on sensitive teeth, or the dull pain in feet

After a long, happy walk. You are

But human, and beautiful,

In the way you stand alone amongst your own debris.

Let the midnight weep, let

The skies simper and mewl for your cruel niceties

Butterflies disguised as mice, scuttling around the corner

I see beneath the veil, and still

Stand amused, feeling

Strangely loved.

Walk into your heart people may and

Leave solid footsteps, a fleeting trail of summer blossoms at times

But sometimes all they leave is

A muddied, bloodied mess, strewn with carcasses.

Cleaning up is a bitch.

My heart longs to retire, into the

Cool, mossy embrace of the woods known

The jungle path well traveled, but what use

Is one’s comfort zone but to rot and reek of remains?

A rustle of leaves and a soft sigh of wind brings back your breath

Upon my cheek, a silent kiss

So sweetly wrought

With the subtle pain

Of parting.

Yet I recoil, rewind, wrap myself around me, sink

Unto myself, instead

Of reaching out and touching your face,

Every single time.


Long distance


Burning_Love_by_Pixelnase

Here I sit and

Spin hours away, as days

Drag their feet across the floor making

A terrible racket.

You, in your acheful distance

Tug at my veins squirting

Purple blood, blue

With longing.

I pine for you,

You pine for me and

Somehow we

End up in each other’s arms

Sooner or later. Not bad

For real life. But,

Right here, right now

My soul longs, for a scent of you.

Minutes fall around me, like shrapnel

From a splintered dream, if

I pay attention, embrace the shards for a moment of comfort, I

Always end up bleeding, tending

To my own wounds, with

Old rags of memories.

Utter nonsense, this distance

An unwanted boulder, in the midst of our warm, tranquil sea.

A beautiful yearning, yet

A crippling hunger that

Feeds on strands of happiness, falling through the blinds of absence.

This won’t do.

I miss you.

 

 

 


Untitled till September


640x448_17559_Emptiness_and_flowers_2d_surrealism_flowers_girl_woman_fantasy_picture_image_digital_art

Yesterday I felt your absence,

Right beside me, like a perilous drop

From which I edged away, fearing for life.

Emptiness overwhelmed, overthrew

What little sanity was left, as

Hip hop beats pelted all around

Like paralyzing darts at a

Sore, swollen heart.

Have you ever felt how lonely, how barren

These club beats make you feel?

Well, you know how this goes,

Every time I look at myself in the mirror I

Try so desperately to catch maybe

A glance of your smile in my own eyes, a splinter

Of a memory perhaps trapped within

From when I last held you.

Well, you know how this goes.

When feelings overflow I throw

Handfuls in the air and catch

What I can on paper, try and build

A bridge to you with words, but

Does that bring you closer? No, but I try.

And there I sat in a lonely cab homeward

Fingers itching, to ruffle your hair

Heart a wriggling mess, scratching itself in a frenzy

Mad with longing, just for a feel of you.

Yes, so your absence gives me words, bittersweet

On the tip of the tongue, but

I’d much rather have you instead.


Hazy evening


Intervene you must, oh fate

You funny little thing

Cruelty is your second nature, mystery

Being your thing.

Butterflies flew over head, while

Smiles popped lips like flower buds

Eyes locked, intertwined

Knowingly pregnant, exquisitely

Baffled.

You had to make your presence known, didn’t you?

Fate.

Some sulk in dark corners invoking

Whirlwinds of ominous sighs

While others disappear into the dark, dark night, shedding

Petals of longing behind.

Love is a word that never belonged here, of which

The syllables never touched lips, around which

Tongues were never curled, a word

Shrouded in confusion and feeling, a word

Merely whispered in thought, in secret

In the dark recesses of the mind

Sentiments sucked in by empty vessels of

Thundering silence, inner dementia

Creating illusions, breeding

Dark and pungent

Fantasies.

They walk

Hand in hand, in

A parallel universe where

Fate is but a word

That is jotted in parchment paper, blotted

Out by dust,

By

Beautifully golden, long forgotten

All encompassing dust.

Image creadits - http://i249.photobucket.com/albums/gg232/OceanxGoddess135/Surreal%20Art/SurrealArt24.jpg


Mopping up


The city clothed itself in sombre robes

The trees stood silent, leaves no longer

Dilly-dallying in the wind

Respectful reverence, or was it

Petrified fear?

I saw your face through the haze, petrol fumes

Clouded my judgement. You

Touched my hand and smiled

Into my eyes. Cue – this is where I melt, into your arms

Helplessly, aimlessly wander, let you engulf me, liquid

Like water

But something had frozen. I guess I do not melt anymore

It was strange yet comforting, I needed you no more.

Yet words splatter the walls at unforseen moments,

At the absence of a janitor, I am left

Mopping up the walls in silence.


Nostalgia


I remember those

Rainy September afternoons when

Wind brought you in

Like a whisper, lingering

In candied gasps

All enveloping.

 

Apple pie baking,

Spicy golden fragrance, reminiscent

Of tinsel and Christmas

Decorations, first

And foremost, tasted with nose

And then by tongue.

 

 And you

Bringing in, an armful of smiles

Staggering with the weight

Of joy.

 

Rain

Beating down on the windows then

Ceasing

Like the calming heartbeat

After a happy run in the sun.

 

You

A shining warmth, a

Sprinkling of sugar,

Caramelized

On a freshly baked bun.  

 

Dilly-dallying leaves floating

Earthwards, frolicking

In the tempest, evoked

By the muffled rain

Smell of fresh wood, wafting

Drifting, circling

In a note of music, each word uttered

Turning into luscious persistent

Poetry.

 

Sweet tea made with just

The right amount of love, warming

From the inside and you

Taking over, my soul

And my mind and I

Smiling at the thought, feeling silly

Yet warm, from the glow

Of your beatifying love.

 

Image


September


Rainy afternoons

Smelling of wet earth, hot coffee

And books

Quiet evenings

Of fluttering pages and somnolent fantasies

In pale light filtered

Through pregnant clouds and

Green leaves burdened

With the juice of the sky.

When suddenly, you breeze in

Piercing through the cascade

And splatter upon my skin

Fragrant and serene

Like a forgotten kiss when

The pen would bleed words and paper

Would not be enough to mop up that wordy mess

That you so carelessly leave behind.