Dry

From my fingers, colours refuse to flow
Images form in my eyes
And stay in the crevices as frozen beads
Like shining wefts protected by my brow

I wait for dreams to melt and grow
I wait to reap my own inherent desires

Untitled

White crows
Black butterflies
Let us start afresh
Let us repaint life

Why do we write black thoughts in white
Why do we depict loss figures through vertical stripes
Let us start afresh
Let us rewrite life

Black stars
White skies
Let us start afresh
Let us repaint life

Untitled

What are our dreams
If not our personal constructs
Mistaken as fantasized realities
One for me and another for you

What is your black and my white
If not a palette for a common mid-way gleaming gray…
An abode for cathartic smiles
Born of your lack of sorrow and my intense joy

Those sacred vows
Those creased thoughts that you slip hurriedly in the side pockets of my jeans
Languishing on the periphery of our perceptions
Make me long for your caressing gaze

Our dreams form
My dreams are fed

Untitled

A tornado of hyperbole
Paper shells ply
My assets are only pages
Pages flutter and fly

Words are scattered all over
But one word sticks by
Love- one word that fits all
It kills, resurrects, bleeds and echoes cries

I pick up one word and imprint it on a page
A popular one-word-fits-all
In deliberate happiness, I whirl
Imbibing within my being
Earth, fire, air, water and sky

Record

Hieroglyphics on the pages of my life
He scribbles both fun and strife
Sometimes he covers squares of my ego with love stripes
Sometimes he unknowingly fills my eyes with a storm
Suspending me at the edge of a leaf
And I hang there like a dewdrop refusing to leave

untitled

In somnambulism or drunk on dreams
I walked towards the moon, away from you
To gather the glowing moon in my hands
To pluck it from the expansive blue
Lost in the murkiness of my beautiful dreams
I still long for you

Sometimes I think…

It’s strange
To let light paint on your soul
A painting that it desires

It’s strange
To become a canvas for someone
And to let them hang you on the wall

untitled

Asleep in a blossoming bottle
Not a cell
I dream dreams that are fragile yet fluid
In a state of dormancy I define my inner self