Dreaming an Enigma

A machine of infinite codes,
An enigma for a mindful earthquake,
The square root of a five star room,
First class seat integrated as a function of ‘x’,
Divided through the lands,
Imprisoning the self in a windowless cube,
An imitation of a known equation,
That was meant to explain identity loss,
Where the product of the north and south poles
Would create a hyperbola,
Drawn on the tears of humanity,
Coded to trap me beyond recognition.
Thursday, 30thof April 2015

Dear Beloved

Imagine! A step! And another!
Towards an ocean, out and in,
Out you go, go into the land,
In you go, and tremble, with footsteps,
Now open your eyes, hold your breath,
Pictures taken, the dance changes,
And the sky opens, hold hands,
Legs moving left, and you hold,
Heads turn right, and you hold,
Let go, here arms, there legs, then twist,
Pictures taken, the dance ends!
Thursday, 30thof April 2015

Romantic Thieves

A chilly wind forcing the lips into blue silence,
Dry and fatigued revived by the moist tongue,
I think those lips and maybe the tongue, too,
Were meant to be stolen for the first time,
And then later, mine to borrow hers’,
And hers’ to borrow mine,
But only to realise that it did not last,
Only to realise that what was left behind
Was the whispers of hers’ and mine,
Feeding memories into our hearts,
Memories meant to tour the body,
Guided by each pulsating beat,
A melody that started by the thief
Who stole those lips and maybe the tongue, too.
Friday, 24thof April 2015

The Etiquette of Parting

Let us not say goodbye,
Instead, until next time,
Until forever, as I dwell
Upon an earth who has lived
As an infinite life,
As an infinite death,
So, until forever, friend,
As I pick up fruits from
Trees on different earths,
Never to hear goodbyes,
Except for reason that
A person whispers no more,
That is a time fit
For one last goodbye,
For one last whisper,
But until then, just
Let us not say goodbye,
Instead, until next time.

Thursday, 23rdof April 2015

The Fall of Men

I passed a shabby little town,
Intrigued by its damp colours,
Revisiting my lonely footsteps,
Cobblestone-covered streets,
Narrower than horse carriages,
Ruled by thousands of crows,
And nothing else mattered,
Windows: shadows of grey,
Doors: barred beyond reach,
As if a town for a gothic play,
Staged for lives in despair,
Neither whispers nor silence,
As the last man standing falls.
Tuesday, 21stof April 2015


As soon as I lost interest in arid lands
They became so close that memories
Started to come back illustrating the
Beauty of those pure Arabian eyes,
Hair veiled beyond conscious views,
Noses as graceful as any raised sail,
Elegance in their walk,
Sweetness in their talk,
Defining femininity,
A heart’s affinity,
Beyond divinity.
Saturday, 18thof April 2015

Flight YV1

I noticed a sense of vacation and
Vouched to give myself a break,
So, I booked tickets for Flight YV1,
Destination: a place so surreal
Like none other.
Though, I booked it too close
To the date of my departure,
Hesitant to take this journey
Where hearts meant to ignite
Like none other.
I know not of what to come
If I get on this plane just as
I’m about to get off forever,
Maybe it is an opportunity
Like none other.
Though, postponing it might
Create a greater tomorrow,
Or maybe it is merely myself,
Hesitating at this special hour
Like none other.
The thought of two hearts
Breaking to bits and pieces,
To never be able to recover,
A deafening single thought
Like none other.
To Flight YV1 I shall ask:
Should I just ignore it?
Or pursue this further?
I await its reply eagerly
Like none other.
Friday, 17thof April 2015

A String of Hair

“Lights! Camera! Action!”
The lady in a scarlet dress
On the lonely dusty stage,
Singing a song about her man:
Me, because it had to be,
I was meant to be her knight,
The one to claim her– “Cut!”
Stupid director interrupting her,
I would never do such a thing,
Never would I cut her voice,
A melodious tone– “Makeup!”
Such an annoying sound,
But it was directed to me,
So I approached my fair lady,
Took my brush and tools,
And moved my hands,
Though it was all an act,
The director signalled us to
Go back to our positions,
She to the stage,
And I into the darkness,
But then I saw a string of
Hair that was out of place,
It is ruining her beauty,
She is so imperfect,
I need to– “Oi!”
I need to– “Stop!”
I need to–

Thursday, 16th of April 2015

Synchronising Souls

The heartbeat palpitated into the mind forming a mind-beat,
To synchronise an adorable being meant to exist for two days,
Still on the loading screen the heart started a pottery workshop,
There I sculpted her into a free soul unbound to any society,
A depiction of what I have observed over those limited days,
Now, she sits on a large canvas admired on specific occasions,
Although she is always there somewhere in the back of my mind,
I hope for a destiny’s page to turn consisting of us two again,
Sharing mornings and nights that would last countless years,
Such that our synchronising processes reach hundred percent.
Tuesday, 14th of April 2015

Summer Beats

Summer to which many hearts intertwine,
Beating melodiously for limbs to rise
And fall – choreographed for a night’s glory,
Hips curving, smiles shouting, a day’s beauty,
Step out, out you go, and go step out,
A natural reaction to many summer beats.
Tuesday, 14th of April 2015