Hemorrhagic diathesis

O my well-wishers,

Please, Please!

Gift me a cactus

On my birthday

As she had

No way of knowing

That I bleed from

Her touch

Pain catches up

I eluded him for a decade

Pain caught up with me at last

Struck by my guilt possession

Leaving me on my own

He couldn’t resist asking

“What have you done mate?”

How to handle parents

Call me your lover

In case you don’t remember

What’s in the name

For there is nothing

Which I don’t surrender

Caste, I belong to none

The question about my religion

Please don’t answer

Instead ask your parents

To drink up the coffee

That I drink

And 

Don't tell them in advance

It is bitter

Café Invitation

When crowd strips off your identity

Their parameters restricts your creativity             

When you walk ‘alone’ among friends

I welcome you to inhale aroma of sacred diversity

Dependence

Your need of love

Despite her bitter words

Drown you in tear memories

And
Blast your ears with deafening soul-ache
It's your choice whether to live or 

Re-live the pain

A Summer Vacation

Contents of her journal

Belonged to someone else

Someone like her

His

Sweat and stench

Dreams and impossibility

Fragility and arrogance

Smile and ego

Her sweet poems

Turned sour

Like the milk left out

In summer

Why had she gone home

And left him alone

Death of a tree

It has been raining

Tear

Marks on her cheeks

She sobs

Walking around a tree

Studded with yellow colored holes

On its circumference

Xylem and phloem drinks up

Injected toxic metals

Poisons leave

No leaves and shade

She shivers

From

Cold weather 

Choices

Shivering in a thin jacket

Fingers wrapped and palms padded

With clothes –makeshift gloves

Radio on his shoulder

He asks for a 70 cent coffee

People look at his dirty braids

Tell him places to work

Eyes filled with sleep

He will wander off

In some random direction

A Coffee Goddess

Beautiful faces have real pain

Think of an unrequited love

Bills comes in the way of dreams

Overworking even when sick

Yet greet you with a smile

You wonder

Where she get the courage

To expose her fragile self to

A stranger

Who might simply say

Bad, bad coffee

Daily Struggle

Comments and criticisms make him stubborn

Bottom of coffee cup turn him delusional

Red eyes take zombie walks

A different day doesn’t make him personal

Say-cheese smiles with clichéd conversation

He faces with wooden expression

Saccharine expectations met his cold behavior

How can one handle hypocrisy with compassion

Religious Conversion

You considered him a God
And
His house God's abode
Few days later
Lover’s gift
Lay in front of your gate

A guilt stuffed teddy

Enumerating mistakes of your religion

You ask
Breaking your sexual addiction

What’s so special about your religion

Are you staying? or Ghost Life

Not only moths die for flame

Flies die for their addiction to nectar

Life evaporates with a fizzle and fumes

For I’m a mere specter

Sips of cinnamon flavor

Conversations are nothing

But a long forgotten favor

Thoughts are immovable stones

She left without eating scones

If only I had asked

My birthday is just a day now for her

Her sudoku smiles

Questions grow like weeds

Memories blind emotions

Not only love, self-esteem is at stake

Work vs Love

Red eyes walk to work

Heart laden with guilt by evening

Day spent on a bench with papers

Life torn between working and loving

Cafe longing

Memories of touch are still younger

            Though my lips are far from tender

            Bold aroma, full body, and dry lips

            On the porcelain cups, is all I can remember

           Warm hugs and awkward laughs

           Over baked cookies and charred muffins

           Without you, the silence suffocates

           The café- a cemetery of live bodies

Love & Shit

You love the shit but don't know shit loves you
When you don't give a shit, it so happens, shit loves you

Sensuality

Cheeks supple like peaches

Lips as if drenched in red wine

Milky white of her eyes

Sliver on her pierced nose

Twinkle at my advances

Yet nothing could arrest my heart
More than anklets on her silky long leg 

Love Business

Torn hearts on greeting cards

Bleed artistically

Like the one used for blood drive

Lovers has become

A new kind of blood donors

You

You said

You are

Beautiful

Intelligent

Sexy

Witty

And

Practical

Night before

Breaking up with me

Love Doodle

Your snoring

Disturbs me

Lying on the bed next to you

I read your mind

A blank notebook

You didn’t even bother

To doddle about me

What kind of artist

You are

Abandoned

Barely moving his horned head

Still like a bison standing

In a tea plantation

Yet ready to attack

At slightest provocation

Blood of a pregnant tea picker

Splattered on green tea leaves

An orphan in a café

Serves blood infused decoction

Ideas, possibility, and destruction

And blood of a mother

Have so much in common

Alphabet

I’m nothing but an alphabet

Spoken with twisted tongue

For which she must attend

Speech therapy sessions

In hope to get better

She twists and clicks her tongue

Yet at the end of semester

Teacher leaves her on her own

In her dream, she prays

I whisper to her

“Tell, you love me however

I’ll be with you forever.”

Mental Illness

When sunlight becomes scarce

The depression returns fierce

Winter had come unexpected

In my cubicle, I ravaged through

Limited resources scrounged

Before larvae-pupa transition

Now, lying in the poop of mine,

I curse the weather and contemplate

Food search or survival by coprophagy

Long distance love

To play hide and seek with her

You flew miles away

Pulled by her scent

Her musky odor becomes yours

But her words measured like a medicine

Hurt you like an image of abandoned home

Unseen wound

Herbs and flowers bend only for butterflies

Like a dried leaf you flutter in a room

Slapped to the wall like a cheap tattoo

Through your paper thin wings, a wound bleeds

Life cycle of a moth

Biology textbooks speak of

Egg, larvae, pupae, and

An adult with no mouth

Inside the cocoon

Get ready for weeklong life

Full of sex 

Moth Love

       You drop pollen in her ovary

You watch over her all night

Like a bat upside down

The burning yellow god helps

Bees, butterflies, and wasps

In their search for the flower with nectar

And watches them plunder

Missing petals and twisted stem

Ravaged ovary and head bent in shame

She prays you to listen to her in evening

How she got duped

Where she had gone wrong

Tears gather over her leaves in morning

Must have made her strong

Moth myth

O colored one!

Why you bent on self-immolation?

Don’t you understand?

You are one of too many lovers.

Gone are the days

When people gathered around the fire

To tell the tale of sacrifices

Of their loved ones

Now such tales are

Lost in noise of shelling peanuts