Writer. Fighter.

On a bench in the corner, Lost in the crowd. Adamant to be apart. Convincing self to be an art, And the artist. Twisted wrist, and a split heart. Learning chords on broken guitar back home. No phone calls. No messages. No one’s out there thinking about this lost drone. Vibrating on the verve of… Continue reading Writer. Fighter.

She won’t go wrong

Confined in impassable space, Her life’s a set of crossing lines. With every pause at each wrong place, She’s cramping to the sidelines. Teardrops gash her beautiful face. She’s a dying, innocuous song. Wild implosions beneath her case, But she keeps on keeping strong. Insisting her efforts in assuaging demons, Her days remain irrevocably consistent.… Continue reading She won’t go wrong

Kiss at sight

Strings clamped to the clouds above my head, Attached to the corners of my psyche, I’m viciously infatuated with your body scent, I’m craving to cuddle on your lap Like a stray, needy baby elephant; You’ve got all your pieces at right places, Emerging in an enigmatic prophecy, It’s a pull I cannot avoid dragging… Continue reading Kiss at sight

The Blind Box

I’m trapped in a cold, blind box, Four square-walls without an exit, I bang my head trying to escape, It’s hard to touch the Sun without sweating, I need warmth, but I’m scared of burning. I wear scars, all over my heart, I’ve been brutally cracked, I’ve been split, I want to be found, desperately,… Continue reading The Blind Box

Like you mean it

‘Say something nice to me,’ Neal said to Marisa. ‘What,’ she laughed and mumbled in her sleepy voice, ‘at 3 a.m. you want me to say something nice, huh?’ ‘Yes,’ ‘Okay,’ she thought. ‘You are a nice person… not the kind of I thought I would like, but you turned out to be better from… Continue reading Like you mean it


A sunny bright morning, The wind is hot, Delicate flowers chiefly tuck themselves, Inside the leafy green umbrellas, And those who do not have this luxury, Are burnt already; Stealing a glance, I pass ahead feeling pity for the ones, Who are still up for a fight, With their tiny mildly-venomous thorns, Eager to slit… Continue reading SMELLING THE DEAD


ROWS: Libration of lost traveler, Has his persistence diluted. Been deserted, certainly his Limited intellect shrunk wit. COLUMNS: Libration has been limited, Of his deserted intellect, Lost persistence certainly shrunk; Traveler diluted his wit. I intended to make it a square poem. As you notice, each row and column has 4 words and 8 syllables.… Continue reading LIBRATION | A TECHNICALLY SQUARE POEM


Sitting at the turf of my precipice, I see grievance in the faces of eels, and I try to eat them raw, as if they are waxen desserts. We moved out from our kitchen, an hour ago. Ah, the correction: She kicked us out, from where all the spice and smile cooked. I’m slowly forgetting… Continue reading YOU DON’T TAME A PISCEAN


Had I known: The rendezvous with this monster would be such life-altering if only I get a peep through the shamelessly hung-open hooks of her blouse that my mind will get molested but with the bang-bang, I’ll miraculously find strength in the middle of my legs in between the shaking knees and a wish for… Continue reading MONSTERS in GENERAL


I started to have the wickedest dreams: I’m just a clown on stilts Walking on murky energy streams Bouncing balls of maniacal laughter Pleasing deranged and cheering crowds Then I spot you in one of these mares Flying around on swinging trapeze You make my heart malfunction My normally defiant beats step in line Love… Continue reading THE DARK MARES