Lullabies and Lovesongs

Lullabies and Lovesongs

In a cesspool of decaying horrors,
Should I remain adrift?
Or sink?
You have decked me up like one of
Your
Miniature dolls,
And left me
On the shelf.

Why are you fading away?

By midnight, I grew tired
Picking pins from
My hands
So I don’t scratch off my dreams
In my sleep.

Are you leaving me to go to the other side?

An artist on the streets,
Performing contradictory feats
How long should I remain adrift in vain?
I quote dead poets in sighs
While my lovers stare, surprised;
I’m a shapeshifter, altering my skin.

Should you go away, love?

There is a song, stuck in my mind
And I’m trying to buy more time –
Trying…
Trying…

Dying.

21 June 2017

Mute

Mute

In a room, full of people
Try finding me –
A gecko,
Camouflaged.

Transparent body.
Opaque mind.
Staggering to Blues,
Discarded melodies and tunes.
I open my mouth and a ball of

Yarn

Tumbles out.
And I, tangled in its web,
Crawl into my shell.

Tranquilizers and anesthetics keep me from going insane.

One.

Two.

Three.

If I stay close to you,
Maybe, your magic will rub off on me.

17 June 2017

Stranger City

Stranger City

Stranger City, your wide roads
With unexpected turns
Gave glimpses –
A kaleidoscope of déja vu.

Your sunsets and long shadows,
Bathed in filtered rays
From orange curtains
Of forgotten days…
I look up, at towering skyscrapers
And dream of plunges and conversations
Doused in mirth and menace;
Will this crippling fear of vanishing hands
Not leave my side?

Stranger City, with your dazzle and
Flattery,
Like some new raiment mirrors crave
To reflect –
You will soon turn into rags and ashes
And haunt in-between my fingernails.

Do you know?
How in the middle of my heartbeats
I have tucked in memories
Like the sands of time;
And the waves are drawing them in.

Your fireflies and billboards
Are blurring the lines between
Myth and reality
Your foreign tongue makes noises
You call language
I try to hold on to strings
To make sense of.

Each minute, a recollection,
Strung on the threads
Of infinity.

Stranger city, I’m a stranger
In your roads and rendezvous and rainy skies.
I’m a stranger with a strange taste in my mouth
I cannot get rid of.

4 June 2017

Ellipsis

Ellipsis

Storms.

I’m gulping mouthful of lies,
Clinging on to a fistful of hopes
Like dew drops on mangled spider webs,
I’m decorating my

Sores.

Each night, when I pull over
My thin sheets
I’m trying to hide
My invisible scars
That won’t stop resurfacing
In nightmares of old cassette reels,
Crammed of delectable

Heartbreaks.

Old habits swing on uneasy strings.
Broken clockworks sing no tune;
At wee hours of dawn,
I’ve forgotten what
Ambiguous skies look like
Since fear made me
Close my windows.
Every autumn, I’m
Erasing your imprints from my

Blackboard.

Dithering,
As showers in Spring
I’ve lost count of months
And your name is a distant
Ring, woven of forgotten thunderclaps
In untimely rain

22 April 2017

Midnight Letters

Midnight Letters

Orange sunsets from crumbling porches
Take me miles away
To lanes, doused in perfumed memories
Of old books and damp walls.
Like dust specks on spider webs,
I have decorated my fermented thoughts
With arbitrary imitations
And follies,
Pretending they were of imperative consequence.

How long does it take,
For a memory to go stale?
Even paper boats come with
Expiry dates.

I’m an accumulation of cities
And I cannot wipe away
The stains
That clings on to my identity.
I am a slave
To this symbiotic equation;
I cannot dissociate from this obsessive need
To feed off your existence.

Don’t be afraid
When I’m uncontrollable on some nights;
I take time to recuperate
From nightmares;
For they have me pinned down at gunpoint,
As they sew their shadows on my back
Like a black cape.

18 February 2017

(image source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/248894316882654168/ )

Answers

Answers

It’s 2.30 AM
And I’m struggling to find
Answers…
To questions that have built a home
So deep underneath my skin that
My bones have turned into a basement
For hiding
From midnight panic attacks,
No better than carpet bombing in a war-torn city.

Yes, I am a city trying to recuperate
From the ghosts of my past
That left bloodstains on the walls
Of my blind alleys.
For when there is a war
Raging
Between your rationale and its stubborn counterpart,
You are the muted spectator,
Being mutilated
Nonetheless
Struggling to make a choice.

In the dark room
Of silent and unconscious movements,
The sighs drenched in stupor are
Like familiar faces in a boisterous party.
And my rugged breath exhaled like melodies
Out of tune
Is desperately trying
To fall in sync.

I’m Alice, trapped in a Wonderland,
With a motley set of minor characters,
Rehashed from drab idiosyncrasies.
For the grin of the Cheshire Cat is waning,
As are the effects of the drink I took a swing of.

This is my Wonderland
And I’ve lost control
Of my realities.

11 February 2017

White Noise

White Noise

Watch me
Dissolve….
Resolve…?
A residue or an excuse?
Gnarling at the very
Core
Of where it all began;
A handful of foam.

Have you tasted oblivion,
Perched on the
Edge of your lips?
I have taken swings
From the same bottle
With different labels,
Convinced my stupor
To adore the
Mayhem
In alternate realities.

Waking up with hangovers
In odious daylight,
Eyes besmeared with
Illusory tales,
Written in flashes of laughter,
Patchwork of peeling memories;

It is easy tuck
A suicide note
Between unsuspecting folds
Of bargained contentment.

I have
Crafted to perfection
My caged existence;
What remains are wisps of
Fragile Tales,
Like accidental perfumes
In cheerless alleyways.

8 February 2017