Lovebites

 

The poisonous black coils hiss

and entangled in fanged loops go for a kiss.

Two glossy-black slithery bodies

lost in the fearsome quagmire of poisoned passion

eat each other’s identity in some unheard fashion.

The venomous fangs,

Lay bare their monstrosity,

making the moments vicious, stealthy, dangerous.

The tongues of death

nastily sway to a mysterious song,

It is like brutal soldiers of death

marching on a bloody path endlessly long.

It is like death dancing:

Its poisoned lips heaving, pushing its mighty pout

against the innocent, pure face of mortality.

Pitted against the cataclysmic forces of death,

the lovely pink sheen on the pristine face prevails.

Its softest brace breaks the hardest stones.

The fierce aura suddenly bids time to stay still,

to extinguish its fire at the acme:

the pleasure-topped hill.

The love prevails,

The horrible storm loses its restless travails

in the hazily lit mellowness of ecstatic surrender:

Defanged, depoisoned.

They are now just two beautiful creatures.

Being with the Self!

 

I know life has rejected me,

And death when will accept me

that time is yet to be!

Till then, O Sufi, is there any light to see?

Yes fella!

It's in being with those who have been discarded by fate,

Who have laboriously scrawled and scribbled lifelong

but still have a clean slate;

It's in smiling with innocent dawns;

It's in basking in the sunny charms of forlorn lawns;

It's in the faded twinkle of distant stars;

It's in saying goodbye to the intrigues of my own internal wars;

It's in being with me,

And the way it is, let it be!

Self-defined World

 

The Spring's traces last,

Hot summers approaching fast,

Languid notes in the air,

A solitary bird's forlorn chirping for musical share,

Drowned in stillness

this late morning bright and fair,

Sky's dull blue,

Overhanging the earth in paling hue,

But a smaller world is there,

The overall lethargy cannot reach where,--

In its self-defined world

in a corner tiny,

The luscious wild flower

still stands brave and shiny!

Hope Melting out of Frigidities!

 

There is light beyond the deepest dark depth,

There is a bright day after the ghostly haunts of nightmarish night,

After a barren famished fight there is a blossomed spring delight,

After pining pangs of separation there is a worthy end to the desperation,

After crashing in the gutters there is a surge and rise to bathe in holy waters,

After crying convulsions on the lips, a smile takes honeyed sips,

After the last defeat, still there is an undying urge to accomplish the feat,

Even when blind with despair, there is hope hiding and cajoling somewhere,

Even in hate love still lurks somewhere!

Dark Shades under Light

 

It has been months since

I last lit my faith's lamp,

So many days have passed since

prayers chimed in my dark den's air damp,

My meditating self,

Now gives atheistic yelp.

Lost my faith!

Lost my prayer!

Lost my rituals!

Lost my meditative trance!

Dark Shelter

 

Too far and deep I have gone into the pit of gloom,
And lost in the cavernous folds of the impending doom,
Even the brightest big suns now appear too far,
Faint stars these now and just flash their inspiring rays,
Feeble raylets reaching me cannot take out the ship caught in treacherous bays,
I know the futility of the beckoning light,
Even in its brightest folds outside, hope was always out of sight,
Now i go deep into my night,
With nobody as a witness to my plight,
All cherished dreams out of sight,
A wingless bird that tried to fly but then crashed from its struggled height,
Now I just silently walk into the dark hold of my night,
Alone
and forlorn,
Musicity of my soft moan,
Carrying me into hitherto unreachable zone!

Victory

 

O thou poor lady of rich virtues

and big but spent eyes,

Thy rosy, soft, tempting lips

bear the blood-drawn scar of a

timeless, incessant, ever-greedy, lusty kiss;

On your fair cheek, tireless pursuer’s mouth;

Muck with saliva and pitiless, sadistic hiss;

Your majestic head,

heavily diamonded with uncountable,

innumerable, romping homes and wins;

Smartly, smirkly are tied under this crown,

thy mercilessly, heedlessly, heartlessly tresses

tampered by the fingers committing sins;

Thy firm, upright breasts have been

bobbed to excitement so many times

that stonily they no longer feel the lover’s lick,

They now feel the pathetic kid’s sickly blood-suckling.

 

I wonder after so many love-romps, intercourses,

love-makings, rapes, smotherings and sex games

—the victories—

what thou feel in the area of focus of such tireless passions!

Is it still the titillating sexual ecstasy,

or every endeavour is as repulsive

as the stealthy, predatory approach of a cowardly hyena?

 

Thou were once the Goddess of the realm of

commitment, excellence and diligent striving-forth,

But for thousands of years,

wars were lustily ravaged against thy beautiful body

and thy blissful skin was bombarded with

human passions and pestilence.

 

If the lofty destination all but becomes

final steps of the mucking path,

Mud will definitely cling at its own apron,

As the stained devotee falls at its feet

after all those gutted baths,

And in its insurmountable helplessness

the Goddess of yore has been turned into a prostitute,

Though they still worship it in its old physical avatar,

But that soul banished and left destitute,

The herculean endeavours and efforts

of these throbbing masses

go on squeezing from all sides,

Thou in a tight corner,

Dressless and pitted against the wall;

Only that small, soft hand hides thy honour,

Thy Godly spirit now driven back to the

edge of a fearsome precipice,

Thou are no longer the Queen,

for thy own fate seems

worth decidable by the throw of a dice.

 

The poor lady now stands all exhausted;

Tattered, battered, bruised at the lowest tide,

The most coveted, prized virgin

now sulks like a dejuiced, unsuitable fruit

ready and waiting to give its stone and hide,

What can I get from you O poor lady?

Thy treasure trove is all but famished now,

You are left with just

monstrously compromised Satan’s diamonds,

Even my beautifully courting pursuit

will seem a poor robbery and loot,

So here I step aside

from the blood- and treachery-rutted path,

and think of some long-drawn, circuitous path

that can take me

—after a life-long hard-worked journey—

to an isolated place

that may provide me thy pure, unstained sight!