Thursday, December 25, 2014

Merry Christmas!

What is Christmas for the poor man
Who cannot afford a Sunday Best
Or Christmas tree, gifts for his
Little ones who so fiercely believe in
Santa Claus?

What is this season of joy for the broken hearted
Who has been robbed of hope
And cannot fake a smile for the
Photographer’s capture of
The season’s true meaning?

What is this just-around-the-corner new beginning
When one is torn between
Political drama and promises of
Reduced prices, better houses and
Freedoms that will never be theirs?

What is the use of celebration
When there is nothing to celebrate
But the loss of life, of friendships,
Memories forgotten and
Lack of kindness?

What is this commercialized holiday
That was once a day of birth and prayer
To the mind that is skeptical
Of any higher being in this
Pitiful, miserable world?

What is the use of gifts, poems and wishes
Season’s greetings
When we can’t stop pointing fingers
And reconcile without
Pretending to accept and understand?

What is the meaning of ‘Merry Christmas’
Said in cheery voice, laced with wine and cake
When there is nothing merry about the days
But deaths occurring too frequently and
Winds blowing away houses, hope and faith?

Friday, December 19, 2014


During his exploration
The great explorer
Young, arrogant and
Great seducer
Discovered that
Contrary to his beliefs
The stems he pulled apart
Were thorny
The petals he kissed
Were crushed slightly
And upon closer inspection
And insistent inquiry
He discovered that
The land he had chosen to
Name after himself
Had already been visited and
By other
Great seducers
And that he
Certainly wasn't the first

The great seducer
Young explorer
Out of disappointment
Spat on those petals
Stepped on those stems
And called his object of desire of
A mere second ago
A shameless whore
And walked away with complaint
That no longer does the world have
Any pure females
Any virgins

And she found him
Absolutely ridiculous
Was thankful it had ended
Before he left his misogynist footprints
On her land
Call her his own
Claim sole ownership
Due to seduction, discovery
First to toil
Virgin soil
And she smiled to herself
For whore she maybe
But a happy one
And yet, she couldn't help wonder
Why female who lay with man
And not husband or
Was whore
But man who lay with
Females numerous
Females unknown
Even men, in secret
(Who knows? She thought)
Were not whore or slut
Prized possession
Great seducer
Anything but a whore.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014


Stop asking me to change

Stop asking me to be a person

I am not and will

Never be

You say it’s me you like

But your words are a lie

For you don’t like me

You like changing who I am

Take the flesh, skin, tissue

The blood, words, thoughts

And alter, edit, redo

You’ll have a twenty year old female

But you won’t have me

You say you like me

But you like a revised version

Much more

What is wrong with me?

Am I undesirable?

Tell me what is it about me

That tugs at your mind?

Is it my looks,

Size or hair?

Is it the way I dress

Or behave or speak?

My thoughts, then?

My words?

Hobbies, interests?

My principles, values

Beliefs and morals?

What is it about me

That tugs at your heart?

Is it me, the person

If so,

Go find the person

You have in mind

Leave me alone.

Sunday, December 14, 2014


He chose to
Work in faraway land
Earn money
In order to feed
His children
The sweetest of fruits
The richest of food
Even though he was
Never going to be
Part of their childhood memories
And he knew
Deep in his heart
His children were not to blame
For who would remember absent
Provider of comfort and luxury
Instead of
Parent present who
Offered love
and care.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Dear god (if you exist)

Why do you insist on
taking the good guys
and leaving their loved ones
with immense grief and pain?
Why do you not listen to
the prayers of the poor
the kind people who
are helpless and in need of help?
Why do you only perform miracles
with the lives of people
who can afford to pay for
a miracle?

Is it because you are selfish
and want to keep
the best of your creations to
Is it because you are cruel
and don't want us humans
to have an angel
among us?
Is it because you know no joy
and don't want us to
have what you
Is it because you are
not the forgiving, merciful
and kind omnipotent being
you claim to be?
Don't expect me to
believe in a god who
can only take away the
good people
and give the bad ones
years of life
the good should have been
awarded with

Don't expect me to
pray to a god who
can only listen to the prayers
of the welthy
and who can add to their puja
enough money that could
buy a poor man a
few more years
of being alive

Sunday, November 30, 2014


She wished she was a
Paper square
So that she could be
Folded a thousand times
And turn into a
Paper crane
And fly away
From this paper town

Friday, November 28, 2014


Tell it,
Sell it






Thursday, November 27, 2014

She cried herself to sleep...

She cried herself to sleep that night
because everything she touched
turned into dust
and she was a mere reflection
of what she used to be
and she feared her fears
would get the better of her

She cried herself to sleep that night
because the stove was out of gas
the medicine cabinet had no pills
the blades were too blunt, not sharp enough
and the words no longer
bled out of her,
taking her pain with them

She cried herself to sleep that night
because doubt overwhelmed her
and she realized she was nothing
but a faint whisper no one heard
a dull ache no one felt
an existence no one knew of
a presence no one would miss

She cried herself to sleep that night
because it was easier than dying
it was easier than staying awake
and being deafened by the voices
in her head

She cried herself to sleep that night
because all she could see in the mirror
was the reflection of an ugly life
and this ugly girl stared at her
when she looked out of the window
on that quiet night

She cried herself to sleep that night
because that was all she could do
in this helpless world
she couldn't scream for help
or run away
all she could do was
the one thing that warmed her face
made her heart ache
and so,

She cried herself to sleep that night.


He was a love dealer
Offering an ounce or gram
Of love
In exchange for payment
It didn't matter
Who his customers
Male, female,
Fair or dark
He would sell
Love to a murderer
If he was willing to
Pay the price

And the price?
Easy payment
It didn't cost more
An apology where needed
Forgiveness to a mistake-maker
A smile for the unhappy
Hug for the cold
Kindness to the hurt
Listening-ear to storytellers
Loyalty to loved ones
If possible

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Today and tomorrow

There is a time between
Today and tomorrow
Before PM becomes AM
When the skies lose darkness
As if the gods have tired of
Night time and decided to
Light a candle in the heavens
It is in this time
Between today and tomorrow
That tired souls
Toss and turn in
Restless sleep
And the busy, the sad, the lonely
Let the clocks tick
Losing themselves in
A time that isn’t real
A time that doesn’t belong
In this world
And then
Words lose meaning
Color loses intensity
Vision loses sharpness

There is a time between
Today and tomorrow
When stories spill forth
Secrets stop being secrets
Lies are replaced with truth
Feelings are naked and raw
Hearts beat fast and loud
And bodies touch,
Minds bond
Lives join

she reblogged...

She reblogged
Posts that reminded
Her of him
The way he spoke
To her
The way he spoke
To other people
The way he smiled
Lit a cigarette
Exhaled blue-gray smoke
The way he looked
Into her eyes
The words he wrote
The words he said
The words he read
The words he loved
His long fingers
Long hair
Jet black
His voice
How it seemed to echo
Fill in the silence
After he spoke
His eyes
The world they looked at
Everything about him,
His likes, dislikes

Monday, November 24, 2014

You, and I

               I am a mere
               Who still believes
               Rather foolishly
               In love and
               I deny it
               Reject it
               But I want
               Soft kisses
               Love, too
               A goodnight message
               To remind me that
               I was your last thought
               That day
               I want to
               Learn about your
               Likes, dislikes
               I want to know
               The most
You have known              
Like I haven't              
You are              
You see no              
To make purchase              
Unless occasion              
Is special              
You want              
With no words              
But kisses              
And groping              
Without love              
You want              
Behind closed doors              
Where handholding              
Sweet nothings are              
No more              
Than foreplay              
Even though we
Claim to be
In 'like' with
Each other
Our definitions
Of what we are
Our expectations
Of what we are
Differ so greatly
               And I feel
               It is best if
               Someone who
               Won't force
               You to
               Take things slow
               Who would
               Who could
               Give you
               What you
               Public appearance
               Is rarely,
               If ever,
               Chosen over
               And being alone
               With each other
I will              
Cry over              
Unrequited love              
For you never              
I, with my whole heart,              
Loved you              
I'll move on              
Find another              
Broken soul              
Like me              
Who would              
Share his story              
With me              
Over a cup of              
Steaming hot              
Tea or coffee              
Who would take me on dates              
To bookstores              
And we would              
Fall in love