Flower petals withering in the season of spring, talking in whispers to the orange-painted walls of a place I have learnt to call home - Everything rhymes with rain and I love you with a SIDEWAYS EIGHT. Panting dogs eye me at the corner of a street and I eye you as you pass me by… Continue reading ¿¡Everything Rhymes with Orange!?
The big, black clouds engulf the sky where dusk-winged birds to home they fly, the flutter of which does stir the air - carries to me the scent of your hair. Thus I approach the pattering drops that drench the waiting, golden crops, fill the air with an earth-like smell, flushes my cheeks - oh,… Continue reading Roaring Rhymes – Couplets For You
You invited me today, finally, to your home, but I refused - my legs are tired in your pursuit. *** Under the fan, I sit and see it spinning like my mind spins when you are near. *** My clothes smell of you after you pressed your warm body against mine. My laundry basket is… Continue reading Poems for Summer: Part 2
I could talk of you but my lips are sealed - sore with your kisses. *** Hold me in your arms, let your fragrance linger and watch me die from the wounds of your rejection. *** Kiss me on my naked body, leave those bite marks on which the flowers will bloom when spring arrives.… Continue reading Poems for Summer: Part 1
Cold summer, blow the winds from north blow warm, rustle up a drying leaf or two, let the embroidered curtains unwind - my lover is in wait. Cold summer, let the flies buzz and the birds chirp, let the musicians tune their instruments - my lover is in wait. Cold summer, let the spade fall… Continue reading I Don’t Like to Keep You Waiting
It is the season of summer my love, and you are making me sweat. * Taking a bite into the fruits of summer - my body smells of you. * "Look here," said she turning away from me. * In your arms, the summer's sun, ceases to set. * Call me a bird, for I… Continue reading Haiku for Summer
We walked together, the path was unknown - a storm passed and we stepped into it, together. It took us for a swing ripped our clothes apart only what remained was our naked, bare bodies.