The people never give up their liberties but under some delusion.Speech at County Meeting of Bucks, 1784 It doesn’t rain here, it pours the sky basks in limitless red assembling each night beyond the sound of deafening birds. Every day, a gulp remains in my throat, that you’re not here and I could not take …
Category Archives: Poetry
A welcome song
Wherever it is that you are/The soft song of your exile/Is echoing in this country. Its loudness resounding/as the chiming bells of grass blades/slicing the rain for your voice. And the man toiling on end/ without no one to pay for/he described his pain like this:The moon eclipsing the sun/a scarring black shadow/that erases your …
the knocking is a serenade
At night; your men are armed to teeth/ the timbre of their boots outside my gates/ a proposal past. A river; the rock split into blood and /thorns seducing their way out /miserable gaps of solitude. The dogs; rising to the occasion/ pouring their vile hatred of you/ signalling your imminent arrival. The house; your …
Quarantine
My words are waist deep in the struggle to explain your absence; I haven’t come least bit close. I may have, but I’m despondent in the name of wait and patience: I wonder if the offer still stands, a day to Kashmir and back. Your absence grows upon me like a day I am too …
Grief as a Constant
Grief is potential, it is a light headedness in your feet. Ergo, it’s spoiler. It’s a splinter in your finger: it is a craft to have: you should go ahead and sleep in a quiet grave. It’s a constant sorrow that’ll be your alter-ego for the life to come. It does not leave. It just …
Kind Freedom
The roses are coming: decimated place of ruins and a stark path of resilience opens itself through the crashing dusk of this day. A nerve wrecked man looks for an out post, unfortunate; one who has nothing is an animation of accent and color. Your liberty lies in nothingness: you’re only free when you are …
A Tenant
When the thief stole your blushes, I ran after him and caught him and beat him to pulp before he could answer; why? When your nightmares were just a seizure away, and, you were scared and restless; sleep feels dishonourable at a time when you’re clothed in a nuisance of your own— I’ve known. When …
Heist
At night you’re pretty loud, and your cheering whispers that gently clasp my face soothe my burning like wax gauzes. Night is a seamless, trapeze of serious labyrinths but you seem to know your way like a blind man does; you measure and lift your feet with your eyes closed and follow the subtly dying …
A Habit of Loneliness over Early Hours
We’re all loveless and you’re not insomniac, You’re just used to sleeping late. You’re just sleep deprived and crying under your rugged quilt because of the brightness of your blatant loneliness. Your sleep cycle is terrible. You’re like a window that has on it’s edge a bunch of sunglasses but no sun shining at all, …
After You
After you, comes darkness. Darkness of the night, And a violent darkness of you. After you, it talks in a language I understand but can’t speak, (Or maybe a little.) And I talk in a language it understands but can’t speak. Or won’t. After you, is nothing. After you is quiet and quiet for hundred …