Hop, Skip and Jump

1

I lifted lessons
From a passing road
Spinning them into
An emblem
Of contorted imagery
And idealism.

Then I tried again,
And struggled
To watch that car
Pass by
And believe that it’s
Just a car
That passed by.

2

Out of voids
Appear black, dead calm
Deep, gnawing cheese holes
And everything fills up
To get empty.

3

I didn’t speak to you
And in that silence
A thousand regrets
Slow danced.

Crevices began to crack open
Within me
Empty mouth begging
But I strangely knew
It could never be filled
With words.

4

The slow survivor
Was never me
Quick impatience
I stumble faster
Than I think.

5

In a world of strangers
I am the familiar constant
And I look for me
Again and again
To reassure
To touch myself
To let me know
That I ‘m fine.

Advertisements

FOOT FETISH

I licked the souls of your feet

Till I fell asleep

Then I woke up

Your ankle was glistening

A bone jutting out

My morning sun

My lollipop.

I watched your toes

Curl and uncurl

Three black hair jutted out

From a hillock of skin.

I tried plucking one

“Ouch”, suddenly you were

Growly awake,

It’s so difficult to love

The whole man.

BITTEN BY TRUTH

Deliciously spoiled and delicately imbalanced
You said, “We’ll always be together”
I raised a skeptical eyebrow
And slipped on my clothes.

You refused to get out of bed
With freshly fucked joy
You drawled, “See you in the evening”
I slipped on my shoes silently.

Before I could turn the door knob
I heard your gentle snores
I took one last look and knew
I’d never be back.

For amidst kisses, ear nibbles and ankle worship
I realized
You didn’t love me.

You just hated being single.

DEAD ENDS

Now that I have written about toes, I thought I’ll specialize and write about toenails.

I am a toenail
Short and dead
At the tips of toes
I lie mostly forgotten
Unless it’s time
For my beheading.
Snip. Snap.

Sometimes an eye
Spots my ugliness
Then using file and nail
It fashions my squareness
Into little, round moons.

The eye even hates my colour
It picks up gaudy reds and greens and pinks
And with a single sweep of a brush
My cosmetic surgery is complete.

I have no girl friends, friends or lovers
I travel solo
Mostly in garbage bags
Sometimes, if lucky
A witch finds me
And then I make friends
With bat’s wings and lizard ends.

I am a toenail
My soul is a dead cell
But hundred of years from now
The living will perish
And I will remain immortal
Immortally dead.

FOR PETER FROM JANE

I love you

I have played it in my mind

Kicked it around for fun

Hid it behind a door

Submerged it in dung

Left bits scattered on analyst’s couches

Distorted it by pulling its cheeks

Disguised it with a false moustache

Tickled it, till it changed colour

Burped it out with beer

Scratched it away with mosquito bites

But there’s no getting around it

I love you.