Feminism is the radical notion that women are people said someone famous. That sums up feminism better than any long winded definitio...

Saturday, 30 August 2014

Soothsayer mine, my friend

You were never  mine,
you didn't  belong to me.

Yet somehow it grew in me,

this sweet, intimate fantasy-

you will be around, holder of my hand,

In every crisis, in my every need- 

soothsayer mine, my friend.

Like a voracious baby 

viciously attacks the womb,

runs it down, let's it drain,

unembarrassed, in it's single minded intake.

I've picked your brain as you held my hand,

you amazing creature of delight,

and left for you only aches, some pain.

I go back to the moment 

in which your trust, I earned.

Hanging on to your every word,

was all I had, in me, to commend :

slung myself around your neck, like a sniffly brat.

 Persistence finally  paid off 

I stepped on clouds and walked on mists :

my hand, in yours, you'd taken.

Time has passed us by

and our days are all but done.

As I stand on the edge of the cliff of time

to be hurled Into the abyss,

I count  the innumerable smiles

and nurture in my soul 

the warmth from you, to which I'd clung.

devour every memory, 

and it helps me stow away for eternity 

the way we were, the way we were never meant to be.

The countless shores we've left behind, 

and finally the tides have turned.

Never again will we be, as we were then,

my soothsayer, the laughter of my days,

My mate, my friend.

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

Needles and Pins

Needles and pins aren't quite my thing-
No, I don't need to flaunt your name on my skin.

No loud declarations of the immortality of love,
no telling when this spectacle ends in a drift.

Yes, you're etched on my tongue,
each nerve, every sinew-
throbs to your call,
my senses, every night, to your name they sing-

melodies of rapture,
a walk through the dark, doomed vales of desire,
drenched in the showers of pine scented mists.

Bodies speak unspeakable words
they drown, they float, they surge,
A language I cannot utter
a vocabulary I've never heard.

As the shore runs into the arms of the sea
and my skin hears tales of fantasy.
You, the god who answers my prayers-
I shall go to you on bended knee.

Till you evoke in me, desire
and my lust, in your heart, does spring
We can keep up this game -
call it love, or whatever you will.

Saturday, 16 August 2014

The Drowning

I repeat the words, 
and they come back to hound. 

They lose all sense-
meaningless words, 
unstrung from their sentences,
hang around in mid air 
like a conjuror's trick.

Hang for a while, before they sink- 
sink into the depths of my senses.
Float up again in my dreams,
when the world sleeps in peace
they wake up
wander around, unmoored,
shackles flung away-
they come unwound.

Meaningless letters,
soundless words
wordless  sounds :

they all gather around
weights compound 
pile up one on another
ricochet, rebound.

And in a final tumult 
they take me down.
Together  forever, my words and I, 
we all drown.

Monday, 11 August 2014


All the layers of fenced out moments 

collapsed and died-
fell away like scales of lime, soaked overnight.

In a heartbeat -
was it yours, or was it mine? -
we make the trip.
That a retreat would be made,

was never considered a possibility.

I lapse back into old habits -
synchronize our schedules.
Your nap times
for some peace and quiet;

trying to reconstruct the present

from scattered pieces of me.

Keeping close watch as you hobble around
carrying your shruken self 

as if a human touch would corrode,

and words may cause the mind to implode
Leave you in a weepy, messy mode.

You hold your chafed self aloof
only I have permission to see your wounds.

As you go over and over the same events
your mind stuck in one single groove
I despair, yet I hope
this cannot be permanent,
this new self, it's not you.

We will pull up those fences,
redraw the boundaries,
mark out the territory,
and send back into oblivion
this garbled version of time.