We entered the cinema hall
At three in the night
All the halls were empty
Every odd light on
We came upon a door
That hid jeering voices
He must've knocked octillion times
Poetry was the password
The curtains trapped the conspiracy
A gramophone hushed the silence
Smoke seductively rose from cigars half lit,
Half unlit, the theater sparkled with secrecy
Alcohol, ammunition patrolled around
Like waitresses with naked intentions,
Making each man in the room giggle-
Over the inanity of the next
They called me “the mending bug”
For I could bend their storms
Or fold them into typhoons
Polluting all their plans
I made my request then,
When badly-drawn weapons floated around my nose
“let my friend leave”, I said,
It made more sense than insanity
Head-honchos all spoke amongst
Elders of the protocol.
They agreed to release my friend
From the gilded house of Samarkand.
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The guilded house of Samarkand
Raindrops
The monsoon winds whispered their urgency.
Thunderous and yelling nimbi with their rhetorical exaggeration
Beckoned, nay, urged for the saxophone lullaby,
we played as if just to delay the deluge.
Then the very first droplet on my moisture forsaken wrist,
asked me when i planned to come back home,
almost taunting and in belittling phrases not nearly as moist,
as the memories it's question brought.
That night gods wept through cotton pajamas,
as they committed their mnemonics to our dreams
aware, that the morning shall snatch from us humans,
all lack of control away.
We were only spreading caution over monsoon winds
for it was not the wrath of bed-wetting gods we wanted to incur
But we underestimated the fragility of monsoon dreams
for ashes to ashes and shit to shit, they all fall down,
Just like raindrops.
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The pious, the living
All that destruction,
That panicking around
Nothing have you glorified
But death
Sexy jihad aroused by pretty politics
Resurrected by the latent powers of hate
For the pious, the living-
Are nothing but a suicide apparatus
Violence manufacturers we beseech thee,
In the name of Allah, the almighty,
Never kill some of us again,
But please try to kill us all at once.
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Untitled
It’s nothing, I think,
You’ll fade away
Not before long, I’m certain,
It’ll all be gray
I have no idea, or maybe I’ve forgotten
What gray looks like,
What sweet suffering it envelops
But I guess, I’ll be okay
It’s such a shame,
That everybody will be everybody, again
I’ll miss you, sure
But I’ll invent explanations
We can feed regrets to the future,
We can tumble blindly
We can survive through it all,
It’s just the romance that’s dead
Look at everything we’ve learnt through this,
Torrid chemistry of neurological protein sequences,
Isn’t that all love is?
Isn’t it as complicated as it gets?
So goodbye, sweet dream, goodnight and sweet dreams,
I’ve got leaping sheep to count,
I’ve got rhapsodies to illustrate with your memories,
I’m sure you’re busy as well.
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A hammered heart
A hammered heart is the perfect percussionist,
Beating to the rhythm of rhyming allusions
Illuminated illusions-
Thoughts of her
The warmest may passes in a motion blur,
A mirage stirred by my hopeful breathing,
An impatient sun is seething,
Resolutions burning proud
I feel the music is a bit too loud
Trapping hope alive
The jazz and the jive
All dying a bit too slowly
Lying to a love laying lowly
Sinking as I speak
With all feathers and beak
Droning as I’m drowning down
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Ode To Linux
Oh mighty penguin - copied to the left,
I'd embrace and kiss your tender insides,
Oh but not the average Joe.
Joe likes to peer out his windows,
Or peer into an acceptable predicament
Nevertheless, you're not his compromise
Fedora shaped shell painted by a gnome,
Feeding a delectable kernel - invisible yet omnipresent,
I feel I need taste buds on my eyes
Oh and then you're absolutely free!
Freedom redefined.
Free as in "free beer"!
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