Tuesday, 19 March 2013

Bon Appétit

Oh, you know her and have seen her wandering eyes

Her fidgeting chest carrying a half palpitating heart

Half of it is already so numb, more over thwart

Soul dripping in ink too dark to make a baffled note

If she writes, muddled letters stain the spotless sheet

She artlessly leaves a mark where ever she steps,

But...Alas, as fate would have it

Renaissance never followed, what follows is only dearth

Vulnerability is so juicy,

Melting on your tongue, as

Mozzarella on pizza crust

Little Cherub becomes a malicious mammoth,

Cheesecake so richly silk to make you hover

Don't tell me that you have no desire to taste it

You know it shall rouse your dead leach senses

Instigate you

Entice you

Incite you

Linger to your sedated mind, enveloping it in a cocoon of succulent pleasure

Chef-d'oeuvre, a magnificent feast to dine upon

Be an unprejudiced basilisk, suck away all her aching breaths, but,

Look for the juice dripping from your smoldering smirking lips

For staining the chenille might leave a sign of your scrupulous sin

Do let me know once you are done with that aphrodisiac THING

Is she still taking that vicious agony stricken lurching Breaths in?

Is she still alive?

Anyways, Bon Appétit...

  ***Chef d'oeuvre- a masterpiece
      Chenille- velvety fabric
      Cherub-an innocent child looking angel with wings
      Basilisk- a mythical reptile whose look or breath could kill***

Thursday, 14 March 2013

I know no New Season

Yes, I do know and, I'm very sure

You want me not, no anymore

Can you be a little patient,and

Shall we wait for a New Season?

Then we might fall apart

And walk a different path

Will you talk to me for a while?

And, let me hear your Last Smile

The Last Blush of your cheek

That makes my knees go weak

Still how can I make you stay here?

Feelings furled and nothing I bear

But, this is no good time to drift away

For searing summer season is on its way

Parched lips and cracked surface beneath

A glint of love and a drop of mist to breathe

The Girl flaunts her nut-brown tan to her friend

Soil thrust its chest oozing with love to attend

Won't you be the last thunder shower? 

Quench and spell cool the blood flower?

Autumn might soothe, enliven the dying blossom,

And bring some respite to burning heaving bosom

Falling leaves emulate forsaken love billow

Wish to be left naked as a weeping willow?

Winter coldly shouldering howling winds and snow

Will it be able to endure the burden of Icy teary woe?

No, no, no, trust me it won't…

They can't ever and they don't…

Poets shall wait for the season of romance to arrive

When the beautiful nature's tender buds fondly revive

Cheerful chirpy songs of spring birds freshen the withered air

It's the time for love to flourish wildly, can you even forswear?

Love is no less than the holly, always red, prickly yet evergreen

New Season needs callous inception, where love shall demean

Still if your efforts to slay the love go in vain

Wait for the day when I shall feel no more pain

You will be an achiever, a loveless winner, a warrior buoyant

Isn't defeating love and finding New Season, a triumphant?