The Rotten Hand

That hand only had claws

will bleed your own down.

when none but you is left, 

caressing pubes, 

running over your gut,

nothing you shall have but a trifling old hair

That hand holds the world,

the toy will play you down

only Time will unfold 

with its empty cries 

and frequent vomits,

HELL awaits in the bosom of a devil's child. 

That hand fears no God 

but the belief will conspire 

for its sweet revenge, 

desire of a painful death

oozing out its skin. 

consumed with fear

will you wither away

Oh! Hand.

lets find another

for when you wither away

its tender touch

will close your eyes

and let you wither away,

and your ashes will bloom

a rose with a thorn.

Hole in the wall

I want to become that famous story untitled, unpublished,
a nameless sensational character in it.
The narrator narrates and the listener awaits,
no proof, no evidence just an unhinged faith.

I want to be that deliberate controversy
and still be a secret audience.
A sex tape with faces smudged,
with a billion likes and a million shares.

I want to be an eyes wide shut orgy,
untamed by any Bill or a whip.
Known to all, desired by all
and participated in by none known.

I want to be that unidentified couple on a train,
on the same upper berth under a bedspread
hoping to wake up to a hundred eyes
just before the station it alights.

A Moribund Flower

The roof leaks, I drenched in the droplets

The unwashed smelly pile of clothes concealing things beneath

Disability creeps in, disability of the flow

The limp routine keeping me low

And I ask to myself:  am I waiting for a decision to be made?

Waking up in the middle of the night

Looking at the switched on bright light

Hoping that the life is just another dream.

Am I the concocted one or a mere accident?

am I love or it’s just a word I hear?

I didn’t ask the roses to smell sweet for me,

I didn’t ask to bear thorns too.

Is the end a destiny pre nurtured?

Or I owe this existence to the end?

No I don’t for I didn’t ask for it,

Not my life, not my body, not my end.

But I still wait for a decision to be made.

The first rain

It was the first rain

Unlike anything before; cold, breezy,

a cumulonimbus in his heart.

He had her moistened memories.

His puffy walls not yet ready to collapse.

His windows and glasses covered with dew

made it blur, his profound view.

For again he got up to see his reflection

But the dewed mirror was crying.

Those lines of tears he saw flowing.

But his eyes, they were dry,

As dry as the last summer.

The arid summer had become his dream

For though devoid of mirrors, he saw her mirage.

The kid's poster

I was a kid in a puddle then,

the ways were black and white

leading somewhere I never knew

except for a concealed few.

On my way to the school

there was a poster on the bus stop,

poster of naked girl,

A lady she was, she was in my dreams,

In every blink of my eyes!

I felt something strangely alienated,

unsure and dubious about me.

I accompanied with my guilt,

I never changed my way,

Nor did I miss any sneak peek.

I was fond of her,

it was a routine to think of her.

One day there was heavy rain,

Mom and Dad fought over a grain.

I thought it was me and my way.

So sometimes the guilt changed the way

and sometimes I blamed my day

but the rain never stopped.

The kid drowning in the puddle had desired the poster,

today the flood has drowned the puddle,

the kid still desires for the poster profane

but the poster has become blur in the rain.

पिंजरा

I got a D

Desperate for love and affection

desperate for recognition

desperate souls devoid of pleasure

shallow desperation made deep without a plunge

urge for love as sinful as sexual pleasure

a spoonful of nothing to subdue a seizure

love i thought was as deep as Freud

but for a desperation ought to be glued

shallow shallow my love my love

for it is to fulfil my unknown desire

yellow for a day, blue for an evening,

black for a night

oh what a plight..

for we shall cease to love at the dusk of a desperation,

following a color blindness

should i cease to love before my desperation ends?

For i shall dwell in superiority

but without love i shall die

viola!!!! if the death is superior......