Desire

Forget continence
When I am with him, the glitters
In my mind go blur,
My body and mind craving
Carnal desire in LOVE.

#tanka

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Siesta

With a tale to tuck me in,
When mom would call me to bed
For that cosy siesta by her side
I would cry and yell –
Call it cancer to my playtime.

Now I crave for one
For that precious little sleep
When the sun returns to its horizon
And the birds fly back to its crib
I yearn for my afternoon nap
I yearn for some more sleep.

White white white

A white screen
101 ideas
Colours flashing across the empty space,
Lightning striking through the nooks.
Words are written
And struck off,
Grubby scenarios scribbled
To find the perfect fit.
New tabs have overruled
The sanity of my chrome.
Docs after docs, lined
Pages after pages, edited
And marshalled off
To the recycle bin.
The coffee mug refilled
Screams for a wash,
The cigarette box, now empty
Begins to huff and puff
For more to be brought.

My eyes are drooling for slumber
Fooling my vision
The white floor underneath
To be a bed laid out for me.

Breeding amidst insanity

You question
The virginity
Of my experience
While throwing at me
Talks of
Stereotypes,
Pricetags and
Level-ups.

I am tired of you
Making Faces
At my creativity
While strapping me
To my typewriter,
With a time-bomb
Ticking off.

I am frustrated –
Of being compared
While seated in a room full of
Big-ass portraits,
Screaming “Fuck-Off”
In the artist’s den.

I am tired.
Tired of two-faces
Of that vicious tongue
Craving for a bite,
I am tired of those eyes
Searching for a crooked line.

I am flushed
Yet, dragged through
The calendar…
Fingers rummaging
For a weekend to hold on to.
A hammer to stop time,
For the bloody quiet
To calm the chaos.
I am rummaging –
Through hidden jars,
Middle pages
And forgotten corners
For a bag of pot
Be it stale, but good high.

I am tired
And all I want
Is to let the alarm
Snooze for longer.
All I want is to find
The fucking shut down button
And hit that goddam thing
For crying out loud!

A sad salad story

The salad not pictured
Dressed to it’s best
Reminding my tastebuds
Of how bacon tastes.

Sometimes,
Life becomes a coleslaw
No meat, no feat
Just plain green leaves.
It will remind you of steak
Of hotdogs and ribs
But sadly at times,
Salad is the main course you get.