Monday, April 7, 2014

An Ostrich's Odyssey

The delicate strokes of a bronzing blush The circular movements of that concealing touch Secretly it stayed, Under piles of elaborate symptomatic foundation Hidden away, from the prying eyes Immediately covered with distracting lies Of intact masks and silences, All, oh so dignified. In place, vague, appropriate From questions to exclamation marks The deviances were kept Painstakingly straight. Till, till they came with those clicks The paused rewinded written transcripts The magnified blown up minute images It led to speech, the discussions to dissect of conspiring freedoms But when foundations began to dilute, They also begin to shake Something had to he done Maybe, probably, a quick fix up A few worthless broken reflections And then they started to fall Shot One by one Hushing all Scars, silenced, splinters.
…when dirt begins to show, mar the darned mirror.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Accuse and Abuse

Expect,
An elaborate depiction
Of maternal incest
For a giddy evening
Should not be blandly left
Paint the picture
And then, pervert it well
Really, what good is an abuse
If not aimed below her belt?

Accept,
The just Jirgah has finally said
For an honor to be reclaimed
Residential access of it,
Must be gained
Help her spread those legs
Let it shamelessly show itself
Really, what good is an accusation
Without some perks
Deflowering virgins,
For the privileged ones.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Red lipstick

Creases, when she smiles
Lost or lived lines
Puff some powder
These, at least, I can hide
An external glimpse
Of minimal significance
Cosmetic concerns are just one
Of the many symptoms
But what olay can't repair
And facials fail to fix
Literally, ugliness resides within
Greased pipes, porous bones
A corpse is coming out
Formicating under my skin

Now before it does,
Please prescribe me some medicines

And yes, do not judge

I am not just an old lady
Trying to resist her age

I am a critical patient
Fighting a contagious epidemic

A ripple


My voice
Another whisper
In an overly crowded room
Dampened its pitch
It's amplitude
Overpowered by screams
Lost somewhere along
Unfulfilled promises
And broken dreams
It may go unnoticed
Among the deafening sounds
Of bombs and gunshots
And what not
It may be over shadowed by shades of crimson
The blood oozing out from endless wounds
The Ambulance sirens
And the bustle of an emergency room
It maybe drowned by howls of pain
In the silence of death
Along with the tears, shed and unshed
Who sees a ripple in a turbulent sea
Why am I writing
If there is no one to read
Am I writing for them
Or for me?
I am just another selfish human being
Wrestling with my conscience
And giving in to my routine
Disguising my helplessness
My callousness
And calling it poetry

Life is a word

We all need escape
To disappear and evade
For few moments
For a little while
Some refuge
Some respite
Monotonous is this life
So I color mine
And I color it with words
Blue
Red
And green
I can color it
The way I please
Life is a word
And on paper
I can choose my ink
Bold
Underlined
Or italic
Depends on how I format
I can go back
Cross and erase
Write and rewrite
Save or let it fade away
Hide
Recite
The choice is mine
The quill is in my hands
The power to decide
To define
Paper is where
I come to life
Words
I believe
I can metamorphosize

Mudman

Remember those days
When we were young
And with mud, we played
Baking mud cakes
With pebble toppings
Mud, our food
Mud, we ate
Building homes with mud
Playing ghar ghar
And then destroying it all
With mud bombs
Atleast, they don't hurt
Making figures
Calling them sculptures
Pretending to be artists,
Oblivious we were
Dreams had no price
No tag
No label
Showing us possibilities
Helping us experience
Mud knew no boundaries
No borders
Cheap and easily available
It was an excellent toy
Everyone had it
Everyone could buy
Mud, made us one
Covered in it
Wearing our skin
We knew our niche
Mud, we were
Mud, was us

Gray

Guilt sprouts from pleasure
Success is earned
At the expense of others
Respect and fear
Inter-convertible
Memorable lessons are learned
Through unforgettable failures
Religion inevitably teaches prejudice
Can love be separated
From possessiveness?

I don't see black
I don't see white
There are no colors
Just gray