No

No. Not with this intensity.
Not this way. Not again. No.
Not like this. Not in this manner.
No no no no. What not will i not do.
Do not do nothing. Do nothing to nullify this. Not your choice. Not my life. No.

Eternity

Traveling alone is a way to reconnect with yourself. Unless I've proved that I am comfortable with myself in all my solitude, how do I even think of living my life forever and ever?

Yet

Maybe you are my garland
Coz you choke me as you slip away
Your fragrance just a set of migraines
Your memories like the typing history on a smartphone, i cannot really get away from what I told you
Yet, i will

Starstruck

Staring at the ceiling is a promising option when your
Heart doesn't beat that
extra lub
Dub. I would
not die like
This. Chaos is more my style.
Starstruck explosion
Is this universe after all.

Prose vs Poetree

I am lazy. 

Not saying lazy people write poetry better, but we tend to think of the easiest way to crunch something into meaning. This often helps to break free from the normal ties with language. And that miracle is a poem.

Tear (flow down / and scratch) my cheek

do not mark my (sorrow / rage) in this act

misdirection is the (intention / result). did 

you (feel / notice) the pauses in your brain?

Do we split our souls when we reproduce?

where does the baby's life come from? do we split our soul and deposit them in tiny packets in the ova and sperm? then these little messengers, carrying a bit of our history float and make up a new memory, a new life. each day, with each little cell, you scrape off a little bit of your soul. and finally, when there is no more to scrape from, you drop down dead. 

Red Velvet Cupcakes

that smell, feel, taste, 

your intoxicating being

i am addicted

everyday

sniffing bits of you

savouring

teasing

devouring

to the last bit

this is how memories are made

You

Why didn't my curly hair tangle you?
Were my feet too ugly, nose too sharp, laugh too loud?
When this list gets over, tell me, why? Really

But I have a mini-you in my pocket
I cherish
All of you
All of you

The easy one

Let's talk of butterflies and clouds
and flowers and laughs and
All the good things you can see.

The audience craves for a poem they can understand
None of your mumbo jumbo will get published
Don't let them go for a dictionary or stalk you for the meanings you have scribbled.

So i talk of butterflies and clouds
And all beautiful things
and show what a joy they are
Natural topics, natural words,
only
rhymes are not my thing
Let's talk of flowers and laughs and
Happy thoughts and
Laugh our happy laughs inside.

Sorry

Sometimes, you need to apologize to yourself. For all the sacrifices that now seem pointless, for taking yourself for granted, for denying things that come naturally, for denying things that seemed too far above. Your wounds on others are easier dealt with, with words. Try coaxing yourself to believe you are sorry when you are not. Words falter then, not in this world where everything is just a syllable away

Buffet

Feed me with a cluster of colours

Black and blue ought to be perfect

You could even try variations of the red-maroon spectrum

Those might even be mistaken

For a romp in the sheets on a starry bed

bed-

lam is the planet I have become

Your sperm (subject to subjective suspicion)

And my unspeakable down-there(s)

Make the corners of our home.

Feed me papayas and pineapples

Or a garden variety kick-in-the-back would also do

The ensuing tsunami crimson

Would be the tip for your services

VAT included

Thank you very much sir, I enjoyed this meal, very much.

Eternal sunshine

The mind has its ways
To pull the past into a haze
That neither you nor I can let go of
Still we try drown it down in Smirnoff

Memories

Are scoundrels, clouding the sun
Of the present in all its fun
Nature herself tells us to forget:
Alzheimer's, dementia and the rest...
Listen, kc,
Without a future to see,
Our life becomes a purposeless rut
Without vision, the mind will shut
Vegetable existence too wouldn't matter
Without future, the world will shatter
The sunshine is what is ahead
The brightest is the spotless head.