Lips

You open your eyes
Your mouth is light
A perfect round orb
In this land of starkness
I know your disguise
The silent humming at night
Your lips eclipse
I'm left in darkness.

Haven't Seen

I haven't seen the stars in the sky in Rome
Haven't seen Turkey's blue and golden domes
Haven't seen a route called 66 stretching on like truth
But I have seen you and I think you'll do.

I haven't seen the colours dry on Italy's walls
Haven't pointed to David & Goliath in hallowed halls
Haven't seen London's cobbled streets or Jack's bloody letter
But I've seen you and I think you're better.

I haven't seen the ruins of Pompeii washed by fires of the mountains
Haven't seen glass meet stone at the Louvre or nature's fountains
I haven't seen the towers of Dubai scrape the sky
But I've seen you and you make me smile.

I haven't seen the locks the lovers in Germany tied to a bridge
Haven't seen the Grand Canyon or its stony ridge
Haven't seen Mayan ruins held by the clouds up above
But I see you now and I think you're enough.

Long

It's been too long for longing
Too late for waiting
And you'd rather hum,
"I speak too soon,
I think too fast."
The milk boiled, burned, over spilled
Stained your skin
The clouds that loom above her head
Never rain
The stars, like your home,
gather dust.
Send me the miles you've travelled,
Send me the sky, the moon, the earth
Send me all you've seen from up high
Send me a photograph of your smile
Crooked teeth by crooked steps
Send me the rain of your city
And the only shade of green you know
If you cannot send these postcards
Send me away.

Silent muse, violent ruse
Tarred old clues
To a mystery never solved
You know the ways of the world
You have a way with words
Said no one ever, but
I'll still tell you all
Till I end up tripping over
My own sound
Sounds, you know those things
No one can save, but I try
As i try dancing
with your shadow
Singing when no one's around
And sure, you say you like poetry
Like a man with three wives
And know the names of paintings from
France, dating back to the 19th century
A time, you wish was yours
A time, where you wish you belonged
But here you are
And there, I see
Me in your mirror
Left writing this fucking poem
Again as another century turns,
yawns and begins
Like just another day
In your book kept out of
Reach on a shelf, know this -
you're a photograph with no caption.

Keys

I feel forgotten 
Lost 
Misplaced
Like keys in a bowl 
You kept too high,
Out of reach
Like keys that lead to 
Locks that open doors 
You've closed for good
Like keys, with crooked teeth gone
Brittle with time

Regard

I have little regard
For sharp things
And 
Hidden objects

One stings
The other laughs.

I want nothing

I want nothing to do
With my hands,my feet
And my eyes
I'd rather lose
My sight, my scent
My sum, my sound
Than my words

I've forgotten how it feels
When someone touches the back of 
Your neck, the front of your chest
The end of your palm
Or what you see when you close your 
Eyes and kiss
I imagine only darkness
This storm is calm 
And the waves are still

And that perhaps, is
The worst death of all
The being alone
In happiness

With the night

All day
I keep waiting 
To be with the night
To forget the parties 
Of the day
To kiss and hold her tight

All the while
I'm killing time 
The light will never
know my name
I hide what I should seek 
I let go of these reins

All these moments
Photographs of colours
Washed and turned inside out
Hung to dry while she hums
"Music is made of cowards
and silence is a crowd."

Tongue

I bit my tongue
while I was sleeping
Woke with one hand behind my head
Like I left my pillow back home
Another on my face
For the sun was in my eyes
And I, in the shade 
Where time lay still
And the birds were quiet
In all this silence, I
couldn't hear you speak 
Even though your teeth were shining
And you hands were dancing 
As the paper waves receded
Into the fold
But it stings a little, as I wake
I bit my tongue while I was sleeping
I was dreaming of you

#99

Wrong out your rights
Wound all your heals
Drown out the noise
Erase how to feel
This second skin
We've settled in
Is better than
Anything

The Better Half

Crawl through mud and ash
Empires long forgotten
To reach
The better half of me
I prefer the tall grass 
And the wind whistling through
But I'm not divided in two
There are open fields,
Mountains of green
Where my mind wanders, and you
And maybe I prefer doors that 
Say welcome 
Even though you never open
Or bat an eyelid
When I sing and dance
Perhaps
The better half of me
Is me

I would like to meet you
But meet you from a distance 
We don't have to embrace or kiss
Like you say lovers did
Off of a postcard from New York stuck 
At the back of your bedroom door
The sailor's hat in the wind
Your hair dances 
Your feet, too small 
Like your hands 
But I don't see the lines 
Or the spilt mascara and overturned 
Eyelashes, the eyes are out of business,
the doors are still and closed 
Even if from a distance 
They seem open and inviting 
So you invite me for a walk
Then say you haven't got
the time to walk this line
And slip like shifting sands from dunes
Of the night, you blow smoke rings
And wouldn't like to sing
Or even gallop to a place
Far away, a city eroding by the sea
to see two walls going by
Across, parallel
Never to touch

One with the fading

When it rains
But the drops don't touch you
you can't seem to see
Your reflection in the mirror
Or in a puddle, the children splash about
Or even in the spoon, in your tea
You stir a storm
But nothing twists and turns
You can't recall when you
Erased yourself from your own page
In the diary of life
From the footnotes of others
The ink has dried
You're one with the fading

Frame

She moves in frames
The photo stays the same
As time goes by
It's hard to recall her name

Waiting in the shadows 
Aching for the pour to stop
In the eyes there's only rain
The heart shelters a drought

She said she'd rather not see
The other side of me
So I locked the doors
And threw away the key

She said one's a lonely sum
If only that were untrue
I need you like breadcrumbs, she said
Once the bread is through 

Flowers

Picture by Shreya Arya. Words by me.

#100

If there were three things I could do today,
They would be to burn
To burn and to burn.

Burn like the sun of a new day that sets the sky alight
Burn like the fires that keep burning even when it's raining

Many things in your life are as cold and stale as a limp dick
And the winter of your youth will never return
So keep burning

Burn like narendra modi just started eating beef
Burn like its watermelon season
Burn like the chillies are fresh
Burn like you were on fire like that one Vietnamese priest on the cover of rage against the machine's first album
Burn like Tom Morello's guitar chords on a pair of fresh strings

Burn like the cities inside of you are burning
And people are having sex on top of cars left behind on the road
And even though there are cops everywhere you aren't following the fucking curfew hours to go home because you'd rather burn

Burn down those who say you weren't man enough
Burn away those that say you're too much of a woman
Burn because you don't need to bow
Burn because you don't need permission

Burn, for you can withstand it
Burn, because your canvas is candid
And though I haven't planned it
When you burn
I won't leave you stranded.

Burn like the streets are empty
Burn like there's no music but
You're dancing anyway
Burn like you're dancing naked
Burn like everyone's watching you like a comet that comes by only once every 75 years

Burn like your parents are away
Burn like your plate is full
Burn like your grandparents used to get high
Burn and carve your name on this world
Forget about who offended you
Write an open letter to yourself
Stop being faceless on Facebook
Trendy on Twitter or tumbling over tumbler
Burn, as only you know how

If there were four things I could do today
They would be to burn, to burn, to burn
And to heal.

I would like to kiss you in
Places no one knows
In secrets nothing has
Touched in a while
The way you know you like
But no one knows

I would like to kiss you
In corners of the places
Where you grew up
Changed shape and
Shed your skin

I would like to kiss you
In your sleep
So you may dream of me
I wish that were true
Like your hands that manage
To defy gravity and curve
When you put your fingers
To your lips

I would like to kiss you
When you are looking away
So you may turn to me
And smile

Fluff

Mountains of the evening
Hills of the night
White cushions with
No ill intent
Break in the morning
To deliver and drench
You with their message
While we, the plebeians
The crawlers
Seedy shifters and
Cheque chasers
Full of words
Drained of cash
Leave home

Undress

I see her undress
Under the moon
And for a second
The things become
Clear
The ink spilled over her
Skin in youth
Marks long forgotten
The golden hoops
For silver ears
And freckles like stars
Illuminate the night
Love is a smile
She wears

It's A Slow Death

I'm flesh and bone
Blood and guts 
Root and hair
Alphabets are leaves I shed
The autumn draft
During winter spells
The everyday seasons 
The sun never sets
And you'd agree
I'm not made of letters
But my darling
Its a slow death
When they want only your words
And your body lies forgotten
It's a dull pain
That time reminds and hangs like 
Clothespins from your skin
It's an ungentle ache
When the only curves and shapes
They yearn for
Are the ones they can hear
Coming out of your mouth
The only thing they'd like to undress
Is a page left blank