Lately it seems as though sighs are dew which have turned to frost-- Why do I bear this burden oh why does dawn bleed red and shout? As waves that lend chorus of voices is pretense, come adorn me with tears, come wound with shallowness of heart-- To the incessant calling of sorrow you plead … Continue reading Unraveling the pattern of pretense

Crimson is color of woe which adorns my mold that is shaped by the bitter caress of wind and water Why is it that the world no longer sees pain as pain-- I am fragments of love scattered into the horizon, to hold me is to search for compassion in your soul-- Mysterious this night … Continue reading My solace in the chaos

And when I left you beneath cool cotton sheets adored a moment soft, slow and sensual born in the midst of a pearl grey dawn. The shivers down my spine and breath of muddled summer upon roses told me everything I needed to know.   Photo credits: Stevepayneart Posted On "Quadrille #56" @ dverse Pub … Continue reading In the midst of a pearl grey dawn

And the cup which filled the spirit with hope was stained red, as murmured voices reach out to break the silence. It’s easy to wallow in the depths of despair as memories flutter in and out like ghosts, though the sullen part is beating one’s fist against the casement renouncing dreams and claims. Dissolved in … Continue reading In the depths of despair

In my darkest days you are the first glow of dawn that lights the sky, your pain is as though splitting of  seashell that hems in understanding. I am muse, I am song, yet I am woe which others reckon their own, as unadulterated heart I am sound of the sea crashing upon rocks. I … Continue reading Ode to a passionate muse

I latchkeyed my way into the month of May, while marmalading few classic cream scones. What? The mind is spent you say? Coffee the muse if its restoration that you sigh for, as even crocuses close at night. I have found that once in a while even despair can be cowarded.   Photo credits: Unsplash Form: Verbification  … Continue reading Each day takes its turn

Like a cutting knife, words can pierce the skin they go back and forth in your mind Oh, gloom and vengeance whisper within urging blood to pour out of your veins like negligence words can pierce the skin Autumn, a flurry of browns, oranges and reds a source for when idle and dark hours begin … Continue reading Inside a criminal mind

I am searching through sepulchral depths of the sea, where sunlight used to glimmer and address the waters. Blood coral, rock polyps, relatives of sea anemones, there is symphony of muted strings collecting in their souls. Beauty drank the shallow thoughts of men, as oil spills into bone deep reefs I utter what seems like … Continue reading Coral Dreams

Five potatoes, preferably brown butter mashed as colour in the sky turns to stormful ash a dash of kosher salt, pepper and chopped chives five poems left until the end of the month arrives. Now add herb-garlic cheese and follow the recipe I ponder upon life, its truth and its brevity. Five hours, five minutes … Continue reading A glimpse into an evening in April

It blurs edges and swallows the day, climbing inside the pores of skin. It begins with an image as sweet as sugar and erotic as grapes, lending darker thoughts in the hours of ache. Lust is salty air and wide ocean which leaves one longing for the quietest moments, as chastity long-preserved crumbles to dust. … Continue reading The Perfumed Breath Of Lust