PALINDROME FOR LOVE

That emotion can always be reversed ,

He mocked at her

He: You are trying to find a word

That cannot be reversed

To describe a feeling

that is notoriously reversible

Palindrome for love?

Grow up…

Move on….

Ageless love?

She: Of course, Abelard and Heloise.

Heloise actually said

“Let me be your whore”

and he married her….

 

He: They lived in letters

They loved in letters

Was that love or fantasy?

Losers…

Their tombs were united

By Miss Bonaparte much later

Professor Higgins is real.

Ego is evidence.

 

She was furiously indignant

Not every man is

Professor Higgins of Pygmalion..

Bernard Shaw was merely writing a play

It is far from real.

The argument progressed

 

She: Penelope turned down 108 suitors

Till Odysseus  returned

He: Homer was blind

Another round of applause………

 

ACCEPTED ILLUSION

He had no light of his own
He merely reflected the Sun
shining in a foreign country
He was inconsistent , consistently
vanishing at fortnights
He caused no growth except dreams
He was not deferential to a monastery
Nor contemptuous of a whorehouse
Both were free to have dreams
Lovers merely used him for their
pick up lines
Many babies opened their stubborn mouths
to be fed by mothers wanting to
close the doors of a bustling kitchen
We all need an illusion to pass the night
He is the biggest illusion
to all the lonely sleepless eyes

A PLACEBO WITH OUT AN EXPIRY DATE

I am not your Saturday night palsy

I am the pins and needles of your words

My curves are not like that wine bottle

Not fragile nor likely to cut or cause a bleed

Intoxicating may be

I remember the eyes like black coals about to catch fire

Spreading a warmth in winter nights

You cannot get over me like flu

Or  a bad case of  thrombophlebitis

I probably happened like the rare drug

That never expires…..

A life time placebo ….that does not cure

but pacifies……

( to flame catcher / a muse )

WORKING DREAM

I thought it was the child marriage that had to be eradicated

I thought the right to education of a girl child was at stake.

I thought it was the domestic violence that was a menace.

She was never really safe at home, but she did dream of a larger

World out there where she would be empowered …..

The man at the helm of affairs hated her …

That silent conspiracy among men when they hate a woman climbing a ladder

By her own efforts not because of a profitable chance association………

This time, the cost was her life for taking a salary and nothing else…………

(The true incident of a young girl Rasila Raju  , a soft ware employee of Infosys in Puna  murdered at the premises of her work place by a security  guard. Victim had reported sexual harassment at workplace to her family)

 

PURPOSE TO LIVE

I may not have left red blotchy

letters on the bathroom floors

I may not have left pink

Lipstick kisses on papers or cards

I simply never felt that at any age

I was fighting unwanted attention

all my life

Broken glass pieces on my fence

and I was accused of seeking attention

When I was giving it

The only aspect of my cognition

that saved your life

Saviors die several times

for taking the responsibility

of someone else’s survival

unable to armor another with a purpose to live

OCEANS APART

I could read you like a book

I could complete you like a poem

I could paint you like a hero

I could touch you like a child

I could hurt you like a memory

I closed my eyes across the hall

I could feel the ocean , swirling waves of water

I could not swim to the shore

When I opened my eyes

You were running away

You saw that I was dangerous for the first time…..

Because you were in the same  ocean

but were oceans apart…..

POETRY CAN ALSO VIOLATE

If you loved me

If you could convince me

every touch was mutual

spontaneous

If you could touch me

everywhere and anywhere

that defined me

If you could show me that

every natural curve was indeed

natural , show me why she was

silent and never spoke in touches ….

And then wrote a poem in words

It would be the biggest violation

of my body suffered by my mind…..

To be just a focus of your sensations

reduced to words

To summon & sustain your erection each time you

read the poem and so do all others…..Gosh….No ….

Intimacy resists this violation……….my love….

 

PAUSE

I am in the middle of this sentence
The pause takes your shape
Should I be grateful to you?
For misunderstanding me
In a way that made me look
for my self ?Guilty girl in the dungeon
She was sexy She hated the fleshy outgrowths
On her body that converted friends Brothers in to pure men
His stickiness between ,Her shapely thighs
Too much human smell ,Stifled in a struggle
Was that love or hate?Was that duty or choice?
It felt like someone with insatiable hunger ate her up
If I have to teach one lesson ,It would be never love ever again

Foul Play

I was blindfolded my hands were tied

I was twirled clock wise anticlock wise

Then one hand touched me Next another

Then one more Tell me who am I ?

One man was using many hands

Twirls left me imbalanced I smelt a child , but he was a grown man

Hands in glove with others The game was played against me

Sometimes suicidal threat Othertimes homicidal threat

Finally they stopped playingThere was no one

Just the stench of foul play

Could it be a father ? Could it be a brother ?

Could it be a friend ?

Hatred has more eyes

Love is blind.

THROWN OUT

You threw me out

at mid day from college

For writing a journal of protest

At midnight a man was not letting me sleep

he wanted confessions of sin

was not letting me think

about your systematic devaluation of the day

you desired a sinner

 

I was moving my chair backwards anyways

Time out on a wooden bench

 

I  missed  my father

White hair does not always make fathers.