Category Archives: Fiction & Poetry

Death, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Love, Poems, poetry

Faces

Dreams breathe in slumber,
terrorized by the dying light.

A peninsula of thoughts,
floats in the sea of night.

The sheets wrestled
with the aching limbs.

The flesh entangled together,
breathing a melodious hymn.

Don’t you want to sleep?
You must be tired.

We had our fun now,
you must retire.

Go now into an abyss,
to be dissolved unseen.

Heal your fractured memories,
from the blood of my peeled skin.

We shall meet again in summer,
when this air smells of rain.

as strangers, as lovers
but with our faces changed.

Standard
dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, pain, Poems, Poetry

Lonely

broken2bkaleidoscope

A kaleidoscope
with broken mirrors.

Does it feel lonely?
as the lights slice
and bleed from the edges
of the shattered glasses,
corrupting a lifelong symmetry.

Solitary verses,
torn from a stolen diary,

Do they feel lonely?
as they float over a cold river,
to be never seen
or read again.

You, writing there alone,
imagining things never seen.

Do you feel lonely?
when your thoughts ferment into intoxicating verses,
leaving you behind in a monotonous universe
that doesn’t give a shit about your existence.

 

Standard
Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Love

They tell me I write somewhat ok.

I smile and greet them
as the sun greets
the minarets in the desert,
without a purpose.

Why don’t you write something about love, they say?
something about a terrible broken past,
it sells you know; they will love it,
they always relate to it.

I tell him,
I don’t get the vibes out of it.

Love sometimes feels like
eating leftover chips at
a mediocre burger joint.

I prefer watching dogs
playing in the rain
sometimes.

at least they never pretend.

Standard
Death, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poems, Poetry, sadness

Blessing from Resilience

you are aloof,
as you tread down this slippery
perfumed mud,
embracing the river of life
that has forgotten
changing courses,
a long way time ago.

A flood is a dream for it.
a storm is like an unexpected orgasm.

Still, you tread down happily,
in your custom-made suits
wearing hand-stitched shoes.

You like others,
shall submerge in the sea
near a voiceless estuary
that amasses countless
unspeakable bodies

If only, you would have rattled those cages
and bled in those sharp-edged
rooms, embracing your individuality
then resilience would have blessed you
with fear; and believe me a little fear
with a pair of eyes either blooms to courage
or dawns to a beautiful death.

 

 

Standard
Death, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Poems, poetry

Numbers and Desolation

We all have been there,
alone and desolated.

With a mutual disregard
even for the infinite tones of the sea.

Counting the uneven days,
when a bowl of unexplainable rage
was refrigerated within the spaces
between the soul and darkness.

The numbers kept us hanging.

The fat man and the little boy,
slipped past some fucking numbers,
leaving behind annihilated dreams
sublimating to the zenith of a nuclear cloud.

The beginning of a countdown
is the recipe for your destruction.

tick-tock, tick-tock
do you feel it?

Standard
Death, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Imagine, Poems, Poetry

The Reaper Dies Slowly

An abandoned house,
with the chronicles of death painted on the walls.

In the shadows of its doom, the Reaper lurks
and watches over with merciless eyes.

Waiting for the Omnipresent,
to whisper a name,
for he shall devour the soul,
without a question.

Everything that he touches,
transcends from space and time,
to the spaces between the space.

He has never loved a flower
or held a newborn,
he has never cried or even laughed
and now he is dying slowly.

Of all the lives he has taken,
the Reaper is now slowly dying out of life,
and I cannot say
whether It is painful
or whether is beautiful,
but it is sad.

It should be.

Standard