Cat house

i will take your home away with me,
i will lure it with morsels of dry cake,
and see it trail behind me, purring,
wagging its tail, following me places,
all of Delhi’s dirty bylanes, and bastis.
i will do it because i take what i like,
i will do it by seeing everything of your
room, and choose to never un-see it.

i will put it on my heavy thighs and pet it gently
as I sit intently listening to poetry recitations,
for hours and hours; i will steal metaphors
from the air to feed it; and catch enjambments
to make a string and tie its neck,
keep it tucked to my warm full breasts,
a feline love affair with the house of my lover.

I will also recite poems,
but those written by you,
and read them,
as if they were written for me,

i will find myself lurking like an unwanted shadow
from a lamp post on a half deserted street,
somewhere in your half-broken sentences
and awful imagery.

while something licks my chubby ankle
with desperate irony.

 

 

 

Little by little.

hit me plateaus, so I don’t have
to go in circles around you
or climb your mountainous
peaks, only to find so little
of your skin there.

hit me glaciers, so I don’t have
to frolic dizzy like a mad stream
and erode everything I run over;
you freeze me, so I take years
to melt.

hit me parts of you, so I don’t
wander at night in hunger and
nibble at clay bricks off your house;
I want to stop stealing others’
homes now.

don’t rush into me like a waterfall;
I’ll lose you in the noise of your own making;
hit me like the moon hits the face of the
earth, or the earth hits
the face of the sun,

kissing its dark corners,
every hour,
little by little.

 

 

 

 

 

 

nature’s outlaw

Knives hurt less, you were a double-edged sword.

i took down all the clocks, i wrecked the windows,
i drank off the icicles guesting on the thatched roof of my shanty heart,
i walked backwards, i slept upside down, I ate my own words,
so we could love.
you gave me signs, you were nature’s outlaw.
you were the marauding storm, pregnant with homesickness,
you carried desire and death. I should have stayed inside.
you came back again,

offered an apology, more desire and more death,
brought remains from your ravages so we could rebuild;
you promised that this time you’ll ransack at night
without noise,
you pleaded I won’t know of it at all;
you tucked your head inside my belly
and hung lose on my spine,
you cried,
‘I am sorry,
I can’t help it’.

you perched on the sickly marbled portico,
and gaily spread all your loot before a garden weeded with flowers,
I couldn’t choose what you’d use
this time.

you promised it won’t be like last time,
it won’t be exactly like last time. you laughed
and raised your fists, ‘these are big boys now’.
i believed you,

you don’t walk the same street twice.
so you entered from the back door
and this time, you made blue marks on my flesh
because you had learnt my maps so well.

and struck at the right places for not forgiving you
even when you apologised. you called me weak, ungrateful.
you stripped my skin like I was a snake and my skin could be stripped,
and dragged it on the streets for you could not afford to walk without me.
you had to carry something that belonged to me.
I have marred your life, even as you plundered mine.
snakes know how to grow new skins,
but which ever you street you go, the trail of my blood follows you.

even when you apologised.

First, they loot,
and then call us poor.

 

 

Every time you

tell your daughter
to say yes
to that she wants
to say no to,
you teach her
to confuse
her no with your yes,
which seems like a good idea
till she grows up
and forgets to say no
to all the things
she should’ve,

-From a bad daughter.

(because rupi kaur got me thinking. Also read her original poem from which this one is inspired.)

random number 3931

random number 3931

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via GIPHY

He took a deep breath and came close to her, overlooking knots of people strewn about him, some cussing, some getting cussed at; he wanted to touch her simply to confirm that his madness does, after all, have a real cause, like a guerrilla sliding his hand down his waist to clutch his gun and feel its cold steel solidity in the wake of an armed revolution, as if that could defy his humane doubts and plunge him into the center of his cause.

“I love you, and I feel ashamed to tell you this. You with this laugh, these fingers, these dirty pair of converse, look so human and incapable of understanding what I’m saying”.
She with her laugh, her fingers, her dirty pair of converse, drew back.
“You’re making somebody feel so loved, is that not enough for you lovers?”

random number 3931

Known too well

I looked into your eyes.

There was a truth in them.Or maybe the truth I had known,

Love.

There was love.

A reflection of my love?

But there was.A love that scares you.

So perfect that you move back

With abated breath, a heart held tightly within, trembling feet, and closed eyes

Fear of having found just what you were looking for?

What will I do?

I have known the urge, the urge too well.

And this love,

It tells me, right now, to leave you, and keep the urge with me.

I have loved the urge of loving you too long to let it go.

I have known the urge, the urge too well.

Let me keep the dreams,you take yourself away.That is the only world I have known, known too well.