Amorous Frenzy

I draw you by the collar
closer to me
as we fall on the bed
it happens in a rush
in a blur :
                                         lips gasps moans mixed breaths
I feel you
along the contours
of my body
as you kiss, caress
plunge yourself into me

I part my lips just a little
drawing you into me
                                             slide smack stroke
consuming the
forbidden fruit

We rise, roll, burn rapturously in whirrs of ecstacy

mornings, love, warmth

She wakes him up with a kiss, stroking his hair,
pushing away a fringe resting on his broad forehead;
he opens his eyes to her sight :
clad in his baggy blue denim shirt
her hair falling over his chest
half asleep she looks just as sexy
as she does fully awake and clothed
all prim and proper,
she gets out of bed
saying something about having to leave early
he lies, warm and fuzzy, in the rug they share
as he watches her come out of the bath
her wet hair effusing a stream of water
running down her back through the blouse
her chest heaving with every breath she takes
as she ties a sari;
his eyes follow every move of her wrists
as she drapes the cloth around her luscious hips
her nimble fingers manouvering as they pleat the sari
tucking it just below her belly button
with a flourish she sweeps the pallu
across her alluring bosom
brushes her eyelashes with mascara -
the most of her embellishments -
bends over him, caressing his cheek,
whispering bye,
"Darling I won't be long,
coffee's on the table,
don't miss me.".

Throwing Up

you spoke in mocking whispers laughed in taunting sniggers
you thought i never heard your snide remarks i heard them i
heard them all and i realised with thrills of horror that i who
relentlessly strived to go unnoticed was your hottest topic of
gossip you scrutinised me and every damned action of mine
you treated me like an object on display you broke me down
and crushed my spirit and trampled all over it and when you
were bored you made my pain the subject of your conversations
you took my silence to be a mysterious ailment you made
assumptions you drew conclusions based on rumours you thought
you knew all about me you don't know anything about me don't
you dare assume you know me or what goes on within me or why
i am the way that i am.



The format was inspired by that of 'A breathless counsel' by Meena Kandasamy - http://meenakandasamy.wordpress.com/2008/06/01/a-breathless-counsel/

Memories...

There are many of them --
Life as it happens gets recorded
in my hard disc of a brain
(I'm always in 'save by default' mode) --
some are like
harmless, even pleasant, butterflies
some like
stinging bees
I store them all
in cages
in the posterior of my mind
even as the Present engages me
I often catch snatches of
sounds of buzzing,
or, of the flutter of wings
never allowing myself
to get a full blast of them
(I don't usually dwell in the past, you see, it's the future that causes worry)
except in occasional moments
of mental peace
when I let the cages open
and they swarm into my head -
the bees and the butterflies -
diffusing colour
into my monochrome mind
making every bit of it
bloom alive --

it's like listening to old cassettes
you know
dusty, old cassettes that were lying
in some drawer, locked away;
like turning the pages of a novel
read long ago,
getting re-introduced to its characters --

and a gamut of feelings
rushes through you...

The Moon seeks his beloved

He awakes from deep slumber
to find his beloved missing by his side,
again.
He doffs the shroud of dark, dense clouds
dons the black cloak of night and begins his frenzied search
for Her - the perpetually elusive one :
He scours the skies, cuts through frosty winds,
roves through the infinity of stars desperately seeking Her,
looks down at the lonesome road abandoned by commuters
who treaded upon her all day long
at a dingy alleyway where a girl solicits her new owner
for the night; to be used, abused, misused
at the young woman storming her way back home
distraught from a break-up with her Casanova of a lover -

all this, while She trails behind him
in his quest for love, silently accompanying him
as he drifts over unknown lands,
hoping his agony abates, wanting to tell him
she is there, he could see her
if only he were a little observant.
She, who took form from him -
as did Eve from Adam -
lending meaning to his being,
his silvery, mesmerising, soothing
Moonlight.



This was inspired by 'Mrs.Sunshine' by Meena Kandasamy (Indian poet, writer, activist and translator).