things to do and done....

Sitting in room
I wonder and still wonder
It gives me goose bumps
And I turn deaf
To the sounds around
Have I lived my life?
Did I dream last night?

I am an addict
I am bonded
I am a slave
And I cry over my love

Fake orgasms
And Victorian mannerisms
I sit and relax
Watch the head going up and down
Captain on the ship
Drives me to the lonely island

Celluloid maddens me
And I sit fingers crossed
And eyes wide open
I need to kill a few animals
Nerves in my brain
And those in my legs
Entangled computer wires
All look the same

colors

If I could suck the redness
Of a rose
Or if I could have washed away
The colors from the feathers
Of a peacock

If I could understand
Why the beauty touches
Me so deep
Why the blood does not smell like a rose
Why peacocks beauty is flawed
And why we desire, the forbidden

Questions to answers
Don’t come easy

For when do blood stains become a beauty?
And when do you see beyond peacocks feathers?
And when do you realize the catastrophe of love?

You are an intellectual
Mr. Know all
Play with words and metaphors
Hide your filth, skin deep
For you, such answers come cheap

Blood stains from a virgin’s fuck
Look beyond the beauty, why does the peacock cry
When you are in love, too late a realization

Your answers explain
But can they slay the pain

Whose pleasure becomes the beauty, or that first sting is the beauty
The peacock cries, is it joy or the pain
A realization of love, isn’t that the eternal pain

tea in office

killing myself

When you tell me to kill myself
I listen
Dreams that come from undying moments

A round trip in the train
Silent conversations
And same T Shirts

If you say no,
I will have to leave
And go away

Will you ever understand my poetry?
Or that letter I wrote in my diary
I want to leave you
With the guilt

Of those endless nights
And those long lonely walks
I go away

------------------------------------------------------------------

Now
I kill myself everyday
I get immense pleasure from it
My love has made me insignificant
I am in fits of insanity
It’s only your rejection that I see
It’s only the fire I yearn for
This is the decision of destiny
The script has already been written

The acts change, and so do the costumes
Let’s sell this show better
Serve the liquor and make this a whore house

My gods tell me that I can be one too,
I just need to know the rules
And understand the psyche
Of the masses

You rule my senses, thoughts and dreams
You live in my memories and words
You slipped away few months ago…..
I still look for you through these corridors