Passion on beach

Seas tell a unique story,
long romantic walk,
kissing in the wild,
open crest of waves,
azure sea and breeze,
blue sky fading slowly into grey,
white sand,
footprints leaving a mark,
imprint of pleasure and moaning,
fellow travelers swaying to the tune,
laden with shades of uncertainty,
marooning on love and lust,
trees rooted on sand,
standing alone,  
offering shades to lovers clicking moods and moments,  
Selfie talk on social media,
joy to intimate and honeymoon lovers,
Silent night,
unbridled pain and passion,
ushering into lovemaking,
someone shall wait in the breezy night,
interspersed with emotions and fluttering wind,
worries shall end,
naked skins merging into each other,
consummate and escapade tale,
bearing a secret,
we shall never tell,
Forgetting it ever existed,
nestled inside a hotel room,
watching hues and views,
nature carries a price in an idyllic destination.

Intimate love and sea breeze

Naked souls wading freely,
flicking the sand,
i long to hold her hands,
invisible woman,
legs stroking and pressing together,
a gentle touch,
harmless caress,
running fingers on her waist,
breeze wafting speedily,
clutching tight,
lips cupped,
hardened breasts curled together,
blood rushing like thunder,
longing for intimate adventure,
naughty and inviting smile,
heightened love at its peak,
inside the crystal water,
waves crashing furiously.

When the mind plots!

Kill the messenger,
ghouls and evil minds,
conspiring death on foes,  
brain is thy lethal weapon,
wicked, ruthless and madness unleashing,
nothing shall ever stop this obsession,
every second, conjuring death to avenge the wrong,
I ain’t,
my silly mind plotting,
Stopping at nothing,
Countless proposals hot women make,
imaginative as it gets,
not high on drugs, alcohol and hallucination,
blame it on creativity,
writers hide behind,
only if I could wash ashore the brain’s sins,
in the holy Ganges,
retribution has never got away so easily,
I shall repent for murder.


The cloak of everything

Blow into pieces,
curled shaped smoke,
weave a tale,
turn the page,
forget the fuck,
brush off as nightmare in the day,
unclutter the mind,
forget the love of yore,
wipe her off your mind,
just a speck of dust,
an enigma,
for they never stay for long,
gyrate to a new tune,
keep walking,
trudge the hills,
in search of nothing,
pull the cloak of everything.

Five a.m love

Hazy morning,
misty eyes, 
creamy layered cloud, 
blue dotted sky, 
ships mooring at bay, 
flapped wings, 
stroking at the cusp of dawn, 
sensual skins caressing,
dappled sunshine, 
five am love,
shedding clothes,
flesh staring naked at each other,
tears washed ashore, 
ignited beliefs.
love cannot fail,
hope and promises,
where the mind meets inlet waves.


Wind chime and the imaginary angel

 Your scent tugs at my heart,
 feeling a lump in the throat,
 you came like a speck of dust,
blowing curled smoke of illusion,
eyes rubbed,
losing myself to your sight,
an enigma,
gone with the wind,
drop of petal,
surrounding your identity,
throwing a twinge of disappointment,
midnight dream,
an imaginary angel,
who are you?
some call you the wind chime,
perfect clatter of sound tinkling inside the heart.


A creamy moment

Rosy lips,
taste like choco fudge,
dripping saliva,
enmeshed tongues,
curled like grasses knotted together,
ignite the flame,
Mouths scything into a tongue lashing affair,
scoop of ice cream,
sensation running deep, panting and unlocking,
locking again,
longing for the passionate kiss,
shall not be the final one!
light and breezy,
 intimately violent,
 the moment shall melt,
drench the mouth,
savor the delicious concoctment,
a creamy moment!

A flash of lightning

Lost souls to adventure,
Baring the heart open,
crevice unfurling,
flash of lighting,
holding stars in the palm,
a restless heart traveling places,
longing for love,
this silly emotion lost in translation!
ever wondered what we are bound to,
law of attraction,
deciphering the inner meaning of emotions,
laying open and uncensored,
in the barren land,
the faithful is questioned,
like our inner feelings,
why we become attracted to fellow passengers!
Aphrodisiac and orgy to the mind.

Furious sea at bay

Gentle wind soaring,
water flapping the face,
fluttering pages,
birds flocking above the mist,
story told,
a silent mind in ebullition,
reaching the elixir,
repression emotions,
cup of tea overflown,
itchy palm,
 scratching the skin,
every moment bearing the pain felt,
angst washed ashore by waves,
sea is a silent spectator,
witnessing the fury,
yet unmoved by the anger of violent tides and waves,
few can comprehend,
humans or ghouls, 
gentle or evil.

Mirage at cusp of darkness

Dry leaves,
drenched in a patch of mud,
deserted forest,
birds squeaking,
 legs lolling in quest of destination,
yearning for the lone wooden ship,
growing small and disappearing in distance,
 flowing in the still water,
silent glances of travelers,
dim hope,
leaving present memory behind,
vision of opening eyes to a new world,
wait is longer,
chased by batons and arms,
no dignity left perhaps,
moon losing its sheen,
eruption of darkness,
a mirage at cusp of darkness.


Deadly concoction called friendship

 tasting like a soul’s addiction,
deadly and lethal.
reaching an elixir’s journey,
victory and fun,
joy and sorrow,
unbridled passion,
breaking all imagined limits.
walking the rope of danger,
Yet not an ounce of fear in the flesh,
Where love and bonding conquer all,
Yet none conquered,
aha of joy,
wildest encounters never reach
its end,
moments of togetherness buried!
Happy Friendship Day


Clarion call on a lone journey

Asunder hands,
chained together,
battling sweats,
an endless march,
in search of an identity,
lost among thorns,
a journey eluding travelers,  
fraught with misery,
parched throat,
a dusty terrain,
where neither dawn nor dusk exists,
a mind filled to the brink,
hath no fury or punishment,
buried emotions,
ravaged by pure sparkle of the flame,
no destination is endless,
a crushed purpose exploding like volcano
clarion call,
the end is blurred.

Poetry bouquet: Connecting strings

Barren flavor

Paan stained emotions
flavor of barren land,
raw and colorful feeling,
laden with a thirst,
exploring vivid towns,
a village silenced by voices,
thirst for adventure,        
hippie shedding cloak and clothes,  
shorn of facade.

Connecting strings

Play naked,
connecting the string,
inside out emotions,
straddle freely,
belies what humans are capable,  
a green heart needs no healing from artificiality,
a budding flower,
revel in the self’s uniqueness.



Has social media made us lame communicators?

Communications is key for any relationships to thrive. In today's age of social media, read FB with 2000 plus connections, Insta Love or Retweets, one can bet on our connections beyond comments. The truth is that we have lost the art of harnessing relationships or communications skills when everyone is suddenly gung-ho about their social media achievements and one can wonder on the number of friends on display. The moot question is: Who are our real friends, with whom we speak regularly. 

Wanna bet! There are few who are our true friends in this virtual world and the whole FB triumph has made us lazy when rather than picking up the phone speaking to a friend or planning a lunch meet, we end up sending a WhatsApp forward. This whole forward or virtual e-greetings for birthdays, Diwali or New year has made us lame communicators where deep inside this fear of not meeting and bonding physically has become our new truth. I often wonder whether we are for real in the first place or just turned into some digital robot, typing greeting or Whatspps whenever it suits us.

For instance, I may speak loads to a Whatsapp contact or on social media but may be, will be at a loss of words in meeting the person. I think this says a lot on the communication skills suffering and reason why we should meet more often with people not only to break the ice but also getting to know each other. Time for us to loosen a bit for the digital world has stiffened our souls. 

 Do a test and just drop a genuine Hi to your random FB connection beyond comments, asking to call them or catching up. The answer is simple: There are very rare cases when you will get a reply and forget about meeting up for we have become remote-controlled by the world of Insta that works like another version of friends with benefits. Basically, you like my posts and I like yours. Honeymoon over. Sadly, that's how the entire things pan out.

 Of course, there are few people who became good friends on social media and despite we haven't met physically, we make it a point calling and speaking endlessly on the phone. But, I can count on my fingers the number of such connections but blame it not on others but ourselves for we are busy beyond words but too selfish in making the effort in expressing love or appreciation beyond the world of status messages or Tweets.

Beauty and the plucked rose

Beauty is delicate,
plucked rose losing sheen,
dollop of spark waning,
the moment beauty gives in to passion and love,
lost fragrance,
beauty radiates when exposed to the sun,
what to make of love?
love is,
similar to beauty,
the chasm and miasma unexplored,
a stranger lover is clueless,
in the intriguing night,
leaves shorn off in the new season.

Say hello to Hope

I shall tell a secret,
invest in love, friendship,
every single thread of relationships,
cornucopia of emotions,
equate the heart with goodness,
bare it all open and unfiltered,
discard the past,
empty the vessel for it carries no worth,  
paint the universe with love,
say hello to hope,
celebrate success and smile at defeats,
leave everything behind,
eliminate the scars,
vanquish demons of the past,
accept the shortcomings,
as you say bye 2018.