Monday, March 14, 2016

Napkin Notes VI

She fed; while he supped on some soup.
Taking turns, one after another, they finished supper.
In this table for two, sat three.

The narcissist blonde 
loved to stroll all day 
around the geoid of mirrors.

Hanging upside down “Who? Where? How?”;
He wailed after getting spanked. 
None could grasp what he spoke.

This one time, as he lay; 
She heard whatever he said.
On this couch, he was the one to pay.

After a long wait; Out of the closet in a wink. 
Narrowly, missing the stomping boot.
With flying colours, this cockroach took wing.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Do try this at home. Please do.

Imagine you could put your hand 
into your skull through your forehead.
And reach right into your brain;
Gently, hypothetically, it surely won’t pain.

Right at the top of your mind; 
don’t wallow too deep.
Just skim the shallow. 
And fish out a name.

Now, try to bring it forth
and place it before your eyes.
Put a face to that name; 
Perhaps, an outline of their mien.

The farther they are
The clearer the picture.
However, it’s not an easy task
When it’s a name of someone rightly near.

More so, when it’s the one you more than adore. 
And not just love. Love is an arid, slothful word.
That’s used by the not-so-well-versed 
For the lack of a better word;

Ah! Don’t digress. 
Ostensibly, love does that often.
Now, could you place a face to that name?
Or could you see further or yonder?

Now, keep that imagination on;
Let’s take a few steps further down.
Tilt back wherever you can 
Close your eyes and seek the owner of that name.

Seconds, is all it takes, 
thanks to the speed of thought.
It’s like you had that word at the tip 
of your tongue but you couldn’t recall. 

Perhaps, now you’ll sense their presence.
That communion. The warmth of their hands.
The cold rub of their nose. The air caught between
The finger tips, and your skin, as they run.     

As an endless season, bittersweet after taste, 
agreeable arguments, melancholic glee, 
and muted conversations 
is what surfaces instead of their face.

Saturday, October 17, 2015

||As delusional
as it may seem;
The same distance,
The entire stretch
Of the long winding road
you trod
to reach your destination;
From that point of start.
With trees,
moonwalking backwards;
Dwellings and shelters
not waving.  
Longer and farther,
it seems
as you press headfirst.
Peculiar places, landmarked.
Phases and cross roads, earmarked.
Dropping, imaginary breadcrumbs;
Paved the way
so you may
conveniently, find your way
And then, you reach.

Now, U-turn.
You’re back.
Perhaps, way quicker than
what it took you to reach;
The pursuit, an uphill climb.
The return, a steep tumble.
Perhaps, at a blink’s pace.
Note to self: "Let not
every journey turn into a race"||

Monday, September 21, 2015

pause button

||As kids we wished
upon a fast forward button.
To race ahead of time and 
turn into a grown up.
And as adults we hoped
there was a rewind button;
To travel back in time
to re-live our childhood.
While at it,
what we mostly missed out
is an option
He used on the 7th day.
If only, you could have
looked a lot closely.
You would have seen
how He sparked up an idea
to build the Pause button.
In other words,
the bring-the-world-to-a-screeching-halt
Park Bench.||

origin to destiny

||Origins, poles apart.
One flowered on a vine in the tropics.
The other, lay dissolved in the deep blue waters.
Yet, they were destined to be together forever.
Testimony; you'll find that 
perfect love in the most unusual place.||

In a cauldron;
Hot and to the brim.
Neck deep, submerged
in the warmth of
ephemeral indulgence.
They lay in each other's company, 
as a thin film
of steam enveloped them;
Building a fortress over
their porcelain haven.