Friday, February 24, 2012


under that table
you see wires, a terrible mess
dust laden, no end at sight
wires stringed together
unsightly, ugly

wireless or wired
connectors of the world
from one end to other
lurching into one another
shamelessly embracing

"then why am I left un-moored,
stuck to a wall?
If only I was a bubble gum"

Sunday, February 05, 2012

rising onto the sky

she holds fairy dust in her hands
pressurised into a triangular glass
it cuts into her palm
that redness matches her blood
which she will collect in a glass tumbler
her body disappeared into the earth
only her hands are visible
like two peas in a pod
someone etched her anguish into a sculpture

I again sprinkle fairy dust
the depths of its blackness sparkles on me.   
etching into the epidermis

"if I could pull her out of the earth
I would have shared the sparkles"


Two lines in the second stanza aren't mine. I thank Rey-mundo for those. I know he will read it.

gunned down

metallic sheen of that dart
fuses into a dubious scar
ruins send me into an exile
my rebellion streak saves me
your petulant smile revolts me
I hide behind billows of dust
latch of that trap door opens up for me
I fall down listening to staccato of guns

if there is a lesson in all this
I can't see it
it isn't a case of sour grapes
it is more like I lost my grip

"I am caught in the quagmire of war-
of words or bullets, I know not"