Monday, October 10, 2011

Untitled :-)

Oh what would it be like to make love to you,
that flows with such feverish fervour.
What would I not give to lie under,
as every sensual wave hits me like a new awakening.

Every nerve, every atom of my very being comes alive,
just feeling your delicious softness over me, under me, through me.
Like an extension of my own pulling away,
or am I an extension of you?

No, wait! That’s just my mind playing tricks,
because you’re there, and yet, here I am.
I can’t help but be blown away by your force, passion, beauty, grace,
so soft that I can bend you at will — mine! So stolid that I can’t help but submit — yours!

The fire embers that fly and get lost in the wind — no, not fireflies that light up again, but the tiny flecks that escape the wooden fire —
are testimony to our symphonic overture.
The errant sparks give themselves to the universe after that orgasmic burst of a moment,
but the flame burns strong, bright.

That’s us.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
you to me and me to you.
But no one will ever know — our secret.

They will never understand your moan and my sigh,
your teasing playfulness and my longing gaze that consumes you into its very depths.
Pity. They’ll never know the fantastical spectacle that fire and water create.
They won’t because they’ll never care to see what lies under my downward shy eyes.


Sasi Restaurant, Kasol, Himachal Pradesh
18.45, 8.10.11

A different life

It’s a different life,
the one I dream of.
It’s like the rolling clouds over the verdant hills,
beautiful as they are, stark white across a clear blue sky,
still nothing but air to hold when I stretch out my hand.

It’s a different life,
the one I dream of.
It’s like the high from a joint, rolled up in a scroll.
The elusive bliss from the seamless nothingness beyond,
a neverending chase for the ethereal je ne sais quoi.

It’s a different life,
the one I dream of.
It’s the one born out of the reflection from my tears.
The thoughts unleashed like the walled river released from its bounds,
its gushing, rolling stream giving life to uncountable saplings on a desert plain.

It’s a different life,
the one I dream of.
It’s the walk on a wonderfully chilly winter morning.
Question is... is it the road that goes endlessly on, melting into the horizon
or is it the one that goes winding up to a doorstep... the doorstep I otherwise call home?

Sasi Restaurant, Kasol, Himachal Pradesh
14.30, 8.10.11