Valentin(a)e

Valentina,
must be feminine for Valentine
the name which foolish lovers
carry on their breath
to kiss the lapels of blind faith
to love and to hold

(Conversation Inspired)

Yearning

WordsWorthMillions

WordsWorthMillions

Hide the moon,
that wretched heart
yearns for things
out of this world

Onward

Picture by Aurora

Picture by Aurora

When the soul searches
the heart feels
the eyes see
the lips flutter to sing
songs of ecstasy
yesterday matters no more

(Series of conversation inspired poems.)

Envy Drops

Picture: HD Wallpapers

Picture: HD Wallpapers

Li’l dewdrop covets the sun
on the wings of the li’l bird
for, vapour, the sun turns it into
life, like that blink of an eye
Who cares but itself
life, in that blink of an eye
thousand rainbows, it explodes into
on the wings of the li’l bird
Li’l dewdrop covets the sun no more

Hugging Voice

Soul

Cozy, her voice
comforted me
over a crisis
Like a sister
she listened
Like a lover
she soothed
My soul
breaking in pieces
she gathered
with her voice
and ears
Over the Himalayas
across the ocean
she sent her voice
to hug me
to love me
to remind me
of she is there
to help bundle
me up‎

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Flying Heart

IMG_20140221_235139_edit

The moon laughs
at the heart by my side.
The sun burns it to ashes.
My blood I pour and,
rises, it from ashes
and put on the wings
of a Phoenix

Despair(ed) Affection

She wants to touch him
He asks, ‘Can I touch her?’
his eyes on someone
Despair clinches her affection
Untaken words call in the air.
Burnt, she consents: but one day,
perhaps, she will let him strip
her life of its affection
till all warmth turns cold

Letter of Introduction

Courtesy: Living Locurto

Courtesy: Living Locurto

‘Sometimes she is
very rude and abrupt
so don’t mind
if she says
something unfavorable
’cause she has some
psychological issues’
was the letter
of introduction
a friend wrote

Our Odour

Courtesy: LoadPaper

Courtesy: LoadPaper

The moment when you smell
the perfect fragrance in a crowd
(the one you wanted to wear for years).
Such was the moment I met you.
‘Am I nothing but an odour to you?’
What’s left of us but odour?
That lasts as long as the memory of it.
What was left of me for you
when I left was odour on clothes.
And what was left of you for me
when you left was your odour on the pillow

Sexy Beats

The music notes rain in my hair,
assuasive notes nuzzling against my body,
making-love to me with its sexy beats

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