conceal the love
dress the fear
trespass my concrete facade

The lament of a soul in blessed ignorance bites through the coverlet
dispersing a fetid atmosphere within the goblet.

Drench me in the magic of sinister petulance
since my flaccid demeanour is holding me captive.

Captivated by insolence,
crude indulgence of a metamorphosis
foggy presumptions batter chores unattractive.

Foggy (daily prompt)

the will to follow through

Choking on unknown sorrows I waddled back to my room and let the remainder of the evening go by in a dreamlike flurry of unconnected actions. text, text, text. wait. glare. burst into tears. text, text. stare at the dim rectangular screen. burst into tears. At the back of my mind – Remember last year? When you carved those beautiful parallel lines? Those patterns that gave you a momentary relief from all the mental and emotional pain? Look for it again. In a frenzy, I desperately searched for my tool. It was missing. I racked my brains, going over every possible situation. Not in this carton, not in that drawer, not in this box. Where the fuck?! Knife. I rushed to my friend’s room and retrieved the loaned knife. It wasn’t as sharp as it used to be. I left on my table and curled up next to my phone. Lines. Lines. The pattern is waiting my love. Tortured by the thought, I resumed my search and came out successful. Under the soft glow of orange lights I cut through my skin. It didn’t bleed. Gripping the tool tighter I lashed out and still didn’t see red. I sat back, held my wrist between my knees and with all my concentration, drew the famed parallel lines. It bleeds now. It bleeds.



Bending beneath the weight of nothing,
Thinking about a quiet dream bubble,
Immersing the mind smiles within a vinegar syrup,
Devise a failing plan to ennoble the dying generation of platitudes.

Begin again. Rewind. Go back to the very first moment you locked eyes.
Those soft brown eyes, smiling at you, whispering your name,
Gaze into the galaxy, taste the sweet bitterness of unfulfilled desire.

Unrequited paradigm of blistering bowls,
Catching our pain, love, and complacency,
Dream of dreams within you daydreams,
Finish the migrant fire dot before it dies,
Fill your lungs with joyous premonitions.

Single pyramid of broken glass driven underneath your soft sole,
Pale ochre fingers pricking at the red surface,
Delve into the depths of the bluish sky,
Peel back the clouds and let the shimmering rays beat upon your brown face.

Lemme talk about the precise nature of the philosophy.
Dream, begin, mutter, sympathize, relax, forget, dream.

Frozen love spread put on bread, melting, smothering, consuming.
Belch out the excess, dump the remainder,
Hear the notes reverberate within the bottle like mind,
Generate dismissals out of the atmospheric difference between then and now.

Talk to me dryads of the majestic plain,
Concentrate on the poetic minds of tomorrow,
Blow out the change in your bones,
Wring the despair and leave it out to hang,
Dry the fragrant sorrow building inside your soul.

The arid wind gathers me up and distributes me according to his whims.

Divine Imperfections

Slur : an act of speaking indistinctly so that sounds or words run into one another or a tendency to speak in such a way.

I forced my eyes open as I felt the alcohol streaming through my veins, rushing to catch every single cell, to fill its crevices and overflow with a magnificent outpouring of slurs. I shut my eyes, suddenly aware of the sounds that were ensuing. The sentences in my head were punctuated and italicised. But I couldn’t understand my voice. I lifted my wavering hand and searched for the blanket. I pulled it over me and rolled into a ball and fell into the depths of a mighty slumber.


When Tomorrow is lost in Today

The strong bass and loud beats fell on my ears as I shook my head to the music. I closed my eyes and imagined my body freeze and then slowly melt into a jump and a headstand freeze. I quietly sang with the music… ” we all want the same thing”. I regretted eating so much for dinner as I patted my tummy and rewound my day.

Slept at 4:00 AM
Woke up at 7:45 AM
Breakfast at 8:15  AM
Smoke in the room at 10:00 AM
TV Shows till past lunch
Walk to the gate at 2:10 PM
Chilling in my friend’s room till 8:00 PM
The sudden ‘see you later’ at 8:10 PM
Talking to friends till 8:30 PM
Dinner at 8:31 PM

I felt the air slowly drain out of my lungs as I remembered the conversation from a week ago. People change with time and adjusting to a new environment was proving difficult. I held back my tears and nearly choked on my words as I nodded my head while the figure retreated on a blue cycle. Goodbyes come faster than one realizes. The lukewarm despair subsided into a simmering sadness.



To and Fro

The number of mechanical actions we perform on a daily basis is a fact that requires some pondering over. I am not talking breathing or blinking or reflex actions that lead you to slap that annoying bugger at lunch. I am talking about the more subtler automatic reactions that have deeply embedded themselves in our minds and personalities. The very act of swearing and glaring have become more than just a habit. It seems to be how this generation voices their opinion. The way in which our mind quickly sorts through and categorizes anomalies in others daily life is quite impressive. We seem to be constantly living in a loop that isn’t our own, struggling to break free, hoping to make a difference, wishing to be unique. In the end, everything is just dust and bones. We are who we are because we chose to live that way. No need to blame someone for that. No need to kill our minds with guilt and self loathing. Just wake up everyday for a start. Do the simple things. Not the obvious eccentric things, maybe a combination of baroque and bland. It’s up to you really. Like I said, it is just dust and bones. Dust and bones.



Note to Self


When the days you pine for cease to come by even in your dreams, read me and be satisfied. One cannot have everything. Maybe a fraction of the fraction. That tiny molecule, like a popsicle, that gratifies the simplest desires. Simple, innocent and austere. 

1. Pray. Confess. Repent. Listen to HIS voice.
2. Read. Keep reading till your mind ceases to hear itself.
3. Treat yourself to a new thing/experience when possible. Like now. Do it now.
4. Don’t stare into the mirror with that desolate expression which says, “I’m not a goddess.” Instead, listen to Miles Davis or Coltrane. They will show you what the meaning of that expression on your face is.
5. Read.
6. Sleep a little more, eat a little more, and maybe, if your limbs allow you, jump a couple of times.
7. Talk to yourself. Hear your mind. Listen to your voice.
8. Read Franny and Zooey again. It was worth it then. It will be now too.
9. Watch/read/listen to a classic.
10. Take a deep breath. Visualise your past. Now wipe the slate clean. Exhale. Go drink coffee ma chère.