An Ode to Poetry

Dreams die.
The length of another everyday.


The last leaf, fallen

The poetry remains...

Confessions of a Midnight

The misty sweatlets on your forehead
The fragrance of the differences


Stains get washed away.

I would rather carry the scent of you...

Desire

It was the desire to belong.
The desire to be one.
The desire to soak in the rains.
The desire to feel the barren skin.
The desire to burn...

Tonight

Old Monk.
Rains.
And, a poet.

Let tonight's poetry be penned in the goosebumps of your skin...

Lolita

Lolita,


Years from this day
If you ever wondered, if it would be the same
Know, it wouldn't..



If you looked back
I would be long gone..



Somewhere at the crossroads
Your first kiss, grey and frail
Somewhere across the deserts
Your first rains dry and pale
Somewhere in the concrete streets
Your letters, buried and burnt..



A thousand miles away
I would be trading time
I could wake up to you every day
And, sleep in your wrinkles...



But, would it be any different?

Someday

Many a year from this day
The eyes will meet, maybe
An everyday scene, a familiar tune



The skin will be different, though...

Candid

You. Me.
A bit leftover. A bit otherwise.



Stranger showers.
Penned lips. Cigarette. Peach coffee.



Poetry. Short story.


A novel, maybe.....