Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Lost Poems

I should have kept pen and paper by my bed
I should have kept my phone next to my head
I should have memorized the rhymes in dreams
I could have done something, so it seems

But those poems are now gone
Floating somewhere in the ether
Little birds with missing words
Flying on a broken tether

Disjointed images, flickering through broken glass
Through the fog of dreams I've tried to remember
I've woken up and tried to grasp
My glowing rhymes now burning embers

It only hurts if I try to notice
But who has the time for regrets
I get down to the page in angry remembrance
A man writes, a man forgets

--
In memory of the lost poems

Sunday, July 16, 2017

warhead

far above a cursed earth
a lonely satellite looms
signals processing, data meshing
waiting for the doom

deep below in belly of earth
a girl sits in a bunker
the men with guns search for her
but they still can't punk her

the satellite floats in magnetic waves
its belly filled with fire
it's been waiting for a hundred years
for a signal from her

her finger hovers on the button
a button marked as doom
she takes a breath and slams the button
as men with guns enter her room

before the bullets pierce her skin
the room begins to blur
where there was a living girl
now there's no sign of her

inside the floating satellite
the fiddles with the keys
the wires wrap around her
the software whispers please

slowly becoming one with the machine
she says a prayer for the dead
to rid the earth of all its sins
she lets go the biggest warhead

a scorched planet below her
circuitry in her heart
she pulls the satellite deeper in space
to find a place to restart 

--
I've been slacking writing poems here, because life isn't fair and you even when you get what you want, it's not what you wanted. 

Stay hydrated out there. 

Sunday, July 9, 2017

never

waves
w a v e s
w  a  v  e  s
explosions
in the skies
of my eyes
trapped
in a spiderweb
a willing prey
slit my throat, miss
then give me a kiss
if you may
oh, you might
delightfully
if you do
it's alright
for it's 3 AM
again
and i
i will
never
sleep

Saturday, July 8, 2017

दिक्कत

हर एक मन में दंगा है
ज़िंदा रहने का पंगा है
गुस्सैल मुखोटो के अंदर
हर एक बंदा नंगा है

अंदर ही अंदर उबल उबल
अब शक्लें भी बिगड़ गयी
इस सर्कस में उछल उछल
शिकन से रूह भी अकड़ गयी

अब दिक्कत में ही ज़िंदा हैं
पिंजरे में फंसा दरिंदा है
कुछ सहमा सा, शर्मिंदा सा 
एक टूटा हुआ परिंदा है.

अब ना है आशा की कोई आस
ना ही मुक्ति की तलाश
अब तो हर शीशे से घूरती है
एक मुस्कुराती हुई लाश

---
कैसी लगी? रोक लो, वर्ना और लिखता रहूँगा.

और पढ़ लो. तलाश, खामोश, Outrage का Culture