Tag: love

The Surfer

Salt on his board, sand in his underwear
A stud on waves, entertain a bored audience

Couple pose for pictures up on a dead tree
The sunset is lazy

One by one they all come in
A smile here and a frown there

Through the glasses of a sultry woman
He watches the ocean

Win Her

Worry not, Warrior,
the stone you throw
is into the deepest depth
of a beautiful heart
yet to be conquered.
The day she opens her heart
the sound you’ll hear
is not the slump of the stone
but the beat of her heart
that will beat for only you.
All the stones you threw
will come out in sweet kisses.
Like your warrior forefathers,
you will conquer,
but with love and verses.
Like your warrior foremothers,
you will dance with her
in the glittering desert adorned
by the tears of all your ancestors.

Clothes of Memories


How does one unsing songs
the notes of which
touched in places orgasmic
uncompose poems written in trance

How does one undo romances
that haunt with an ache
unlove love which was felt
in a moment of spontaneity

Now, how do I wash a kiss
of fire that rained
till it rode away in a taxi
at five in the morning

Even clothes wear memories,
burn them or wear them

Hugging Voice


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


Their Love

A mid-August afternoon
he kissed her;
silence droned in her ears,
her heart wrenched
with emotions almost painful –
her heart throbbed,
’cause someone loved her so –
if he had kissed her
for hours,
it wouldn’t have sufficed.
Yet, with a single touch,
she knew she loved him
and he loved her as much.
She wanted to be closer –
under his skin –
with no time and space
between them.
She wished
nothing else mattered but –
their love

They Always Leave

His words wound around her fragile heart
like a vengeful venomous snake
to strike again with malice

she stood stupefied and motionless
trails of tears slithered down
the hill of her bony check

with careful intent he folded his clothes
she watched him pack his bags
swing it over his shoulders

in utmost grace he walked to the door
she held him back by his bag
and broke down crying

a broken heart to nurse, wet eyes to dry
why do they always leave her
making promises at first

she will stumble through life for answers
nobody can answer her questions
she will go back to being her