Fight.
Till every flag 
Drips blood.
And you let go
Of  the words of 
the messiah
Who never came.

-

Everyday, I walk
through the lonely 
corridor, dry and grey.

Dusty papers strewn
across tables, empty
of life - or words.

The door creaks,
as a sizeable worm
crawls in, slimy.

Dreams trapped,
in webs on keys, where
ants play Houdini.

-

A thrashing grey rain
Bleak, comes in the night
And takes me on a ride
With misery.

Daylight, dries me up and
Summer, blows away my sleep.
A walk, in the brightness
And I fade.

-

Touch

Her hand on my back
frail, in pain.
Tip of her fingers
fidgeting, with despair.

Do I, go for me.
Do I, stay for her.

Do i live/
Do i die

Do i abide/
Do i thrive?

-

Dreams
 
I feel lost
like a feather
in the afternoon wind.
Floating for eternity
in the air of uncertainty.
My wants do not match my needs.
My needs do not match my dreams.
My dreams do not match my reality.
Life goes on and
I go along
with a hand perpetually
placed on my chest
where my heart fights for life
as if held captive in a
Derelict well.
The breathlessness, reminds me
how much I am alive
as opposed to
how dead I feel inside.
The heaviness in my heart
relieves the emptiness I feel.
Reality
and dreams
and emotions,
Where do they converge?
 

-

പ്രണയത്തിന് വിലക്ക്!
ചുംബനത്തിന് ഭൃഷ്ട്!
ശിക്ഷ-തത്സമയം
ഉഗ്രൻ തല്ല്, വേണ്ടിവന്നാൽ കൊല!

പീഡനം സ്വാഭാവികം.!
ബലാൽസംഗം സന്ദർഭങ്ങളുടെ സമ്മർദ്ദം!
ശിക്ഷ-കിട്ടിയാൽ ആയി
കോടതി നിരങ്ങൽ, ഭാഗ്യം തീരെ ഇല്യാച്ചാൽ ബിരിയാണിയോടു കൂടിയ ഹൃസ്വ ജയിൽ വാസം!

എന്താല്ലെ?

-

എത്ര ഇരകളെ നിരത്തിയാലാവും ഈ സദാചാര കോമരങ്ങളുടെ അമർഷം ഒന്നടങ്ങുക?

-

“She loved her”

Everybody caught up on the she and her and left the love alone..

-

Once more, I leave.
To never return.

I quit a long time ago,
A day when my heart and
soul danced to Sufi poetry,
sipping on a glass of dreams,
Oblivious to the self.
In union with the
Words and their music.

That was a long time ago,
My body walks on, unaware.

(Full poem in caption)

-

Sun flare

In the sun flare of a photo,
I catch a glimpse of you,
smiling to yourself, afar.
Yet within me and,
under my fingertip,
in a moment I captured,
of an afternoon in a cafe,
I spend assimilating you
to my thoughts.
You, a thought,
more than just a thought.
Absent, present.
Away, near.
A memory awaiting a life.

-