unhook your bra now,
and melt slowly in my arms
lets sleep till winter.
Tag Archives: Fiction & Poetry
An Ode to the Bed
possible dreams,
possible nightmares,
the breakfast for the next day,
a compliment,
a death stare,
Beer
More Beer
Rum,
Scotch,
Sleep,
Wars, Ghosts,
The Reaper,
The Good Looking Reaper
black coffee,
dieting,
morning run,
immortality,
the old gods,
the new gods,
no gods,
aliens,
Paris,
Machu Picchu,
Snow In India,
Rain in Columbia,
Drugs
Alchohol,
Sex,
Possible Sex,
Dream Sex,
A lot of Sex,
A lot of disappointment,
A dream of success,
A Whole New Life,
Songs to listen next day,
Poems,
Writing,
People,
A very minute collection of Imaginations and
thoughts over the course when I lie on the bed
until the sleep comes in.
Disciplined, Careless, Inspiring,
Lazy, Poetic, Dramatic, the various
hues and after-effects of this bed.
It conjures a thousand more within me.
So this is an Ode to the Bed.
The warm haven of my creativity and my destruction.
What do you think while in Bed, Let me know too 🙂
Afternoons to Nights
It is Valentines.
Working from home,
the monotony
has been strangulated mercilessly.
There is the absence of this world,
the air today smells like gasoline floating in
the fresh rain-wet grass.
My Universe is now out of the closet,
out of its hangovers like a horse
ready to tame the winds.
James Hetfield keeps telling me
through the speakers:
and I am Unforgiven too.
Maybe we all are for reducing
ourselves to squeaking mannequins
displayed to the world as relics
of over-flowing mannerisms,
to be sold to the highest bidder
who shall bring us out as a war chest
in times of insecurity.
Its Valentines, my love
Just go out
and fucking love yourself to death
before it is too late.
The Night’s a Serpent
Dark hues deliquesce
in the warmth of the burning stars,
the black cosmic sea now floats:
but still an abomination in eyes
of people spoon-fed with light.
Coiling and encircling the unseen ends
on the horizon; like Jörmungandr, the mighty serpent,
while winds hymn odes for the people
who drank in chalices sprinkled with stardust
The language of Aeolian is now have forgotten.
the constrictions of the serpent shall bleed
morning light in a few hours.
I will wait for the revolutions to complete
while caressing its skin through the desire
in eyes.
Lick
Sometimes you lick my fingers, instead of doing what is to be done.
Sometimes I lick your nipples instead of doing what is to be done.
Sometimes we are not we, when nude.
Sometimes we are but not nude.
I keep remembering everything.
About that warm winter.
Reverse – Collection of Haikus
reverse the time gone,
as the rivers freeze to ice
and snow falls on skies
I am kid again
my dog is a pup today
let us sleep sometime
fires will turn to sparks
dreams shall slumber into sleep
let us fade to black
Don’t Drink the Chaos
The cubicle welcomes you
come now sit, go through your e-mails
do your work proudly.
No! Don’t let your eyes wander outside,
it is just a beautiful tree in wind,
just a pond with ripples of water ,
There are no shapes out of them that you can imagine.
There are no memories in their shadows.
This silence ain’t whispering you to write.
Close the notepad.
Just don’t write a new poem again.
Don’t be maniacal.
You need caffeine,
to drift away from your thoughts.
Just fuck them, right?
You gotta work now.
Just don’t search now on the web,
How Hemingway blew his head,
How Sylvia path asphyxiated herself while
her children were asleep,
How Fitzgerald’s heart betrayed him,
How Kerouac died of cirrhosis,
How that old lazy fat fuck Bukowski
told you once to go all the way
otherwise don’t even try.
You are not one of them,
You shall not be one of them.
you are drinking your chaos within,
they all gave in,
they couldn’t drink it.
but you are drowning it in caffeine
and shitting out tons of work.
you shall survive.
if you want to.
But I know you won’t.
I can see it in your eyes,
so go on write then
as you always have.
Make it worth it.
Don’t drink the chaos within
Ever.
Writings to Heaven 