Those Few Hours

Vividly I remember the room,
as it was revealed with the break of dawn.
The curtains were drawn over the windows,
to let not any light break our sleep.

But somehow, morning had found a crevice to creep in.
And I looked around the scatter.
The cheap liquor guzzled in excitement,
that whiskey then took over the night.
Soft and silent, the darkness leaned on me,
I assumed it were your tresses, and then let be.
The banter loitered around the corner,
some words had slipped and fallen on the floor.
In her effort to pick them up,
she fell too.
Or was it I who had fallen?

Her caress on my shoulders felt like dewdrops,
and her breath which hung on my neck,
insisted that we be swayed away.
We had pulled the blankets over our bodies,
to let not any sight break our dream.
But somehow, moonlight had found a space between us.
And I was blinded by her beauty.
What remains now is her smell on the pillow,
It has lingered on my body, worn my clothes.
A winter song through the window, tickled me
I believed it was your kiss, and then let be.
Few hours were found in my pocket,
it's yours, I'll hang them behind the door.
In my effort to bring order,
I was left in chaos.
Is this the damage you do?

An Old Guard of Despair

An old guard in this city's dust,
trying to keep my uniform clean.
I'm trying to keep intruders away,
they say the city's filled of thieves.

Entrusted to watch this decay,
till it crumbles and perishes to ground.
I'm trying to keep it's walls in shape,
to prolong my days of earning.

The children of the adjacent block,
play their evenings with these walls.
I'm trying to keep their 'hide & seek' alive,
to prolong my days of longing.

Told to ward off offenders,
from misusing this piece of land.
I'm trying to stave off destiny,
to prolong my days of fonding.

James Long Street is filled with
buses, of all shapes plying survivors.
While both of us, are still, awaiting
for that bus which will take us home.

An Evening for Her

The window had befriended me,
or was it my confines.
It had beckoned me closer,
asking to share its view.
This room which I belong to,
or is it my insecurity.
It says the window is notorious,
for making you risk beliefs.
The adornments I hold on to,
or is it my vanity.
They say the window is a rustic,
staring through your cracked soul.

It was a trivial evening,
a usual chain of events.
Could have easily been unseen,
but for that knock on the window.

Curiosity, you know is strange
makes you courageous and scared, equally.
You know not who or what to trust,
an acquaint, a friend, or an encounter.

Presenting itself in all grandeur,
it seated on the parapet.
As I sat at my window,
marvelling at this beginning.

It had brought some grey,
some vagueness into this clear sky.
The evening descended to crescent moon,
leaving me with the stranger.

There were words and lyrics,
a silence threaded it together.
The street filled with yells known,
this space; bereft of details.

And I wanted to reach you,
hoping you'd fill my bosom.
Wanted to stay at my window,
asking it to rain bit longer.

Been in Love

“When was it, you remember?

When you were a bit like bubble,

waking up in a dream, bouncing off reality.

When you were a bit like “the kid”,

relishing innocence, guffawing off mistakes.” 

"I've been in love"

“Oh that time, yes, I remember!

When you are living the clichés,

‘taking it slow’, that's what they say.

When you are enjoying the humdrum,

‘winning her over’, I’ve done my day.

When you are a bit goofy and stupid,

to hear her scolding, see her anger.

When you are bit of everything,

amplifying the hours, dancing to days.”

“And then that time, you remember?

When you were found at the local bar,

loitering in evening, bouncing off chairs.

When you were idling around the harbor,

fishing for nothing, laughing at disdain.”

“Yes, that time too, I do remember.

When you are shred to pieces,

dropping desolation around places.

When you are smiling, prim and proper,

‘get over her’, that’s what they say.

When you are falling with a thud,

‘Not worth it’, but I gave my day.

When you are strong, calm and quiet,

And howling inside, shrieking in pain.

When you are reasoning with past,

finding faults, justifying her way.

When you are active in everything,

condensing the time, ticking off days.

When you are without meaning,

shining shoes; cause they reflect better.

When you are with yourself again,

broken and battered by the storm.

When you are a man again,

‘I’ve been in love’, maybe that’s the way.”