Curfew

It was a night
That seemed like
An afternoon,
The sun seemed
Not to have set
Only turned invisible,
Trees stood still
Leaves barely breathing
As if there was
A curfew on the wind,
Sweat flowed
Like blood
That wouldn't clot,
Thirst raged
Like a fire
That couldn't be doused,
The mind fled
Like a migratory bird.

On the delete list

It is a number
I cannot bring myself
To delete like any other,
Though I have paid
My last respects
In my own way
From a distance,
It is like
The yellowing book
With my father's signature
I cannot throw away
Though the print is fading
And the teachings passe,
It is like
A secret love
I know
Cannot go anywhere
Though its glow
Is life-giving,
Just looking at it
Brings alive the voice
That went unheard
Like Cassandra's.

Graveyard

Night falls asleep
When we walk
Through our past
Picking up the toys
We have discarded
Laughing at how
We could not sleep
Without them
How we did not sleep
Because of them
The stinging words
Don't sting anymore
The mocking faces
Now stand mocked
The risen have fallen
The fallen have risen
Still strut as if
They have never fallen
Dreams we had to bury
Rise from the grave
With a sad smile
Stand unhappily awhile
Before we wave them inside.

Waiting

The blank page
Waits for words
To fill its emptiness,
The bare blue sky
Will not mind
Even barren clouds,
The white wall
Wails for
A child's scrawl,
The lonely aadi wind
Knocks on doors, windows
Crying to be let in,
Dreams stand orphaned
In every street
Of the sleepless city.

Lust

In the dark
Colours lie awake
For the day to break,
Roosters sleep light
Cannot wait
Serenade false dawns,
The dream brings those
Who have vowed
Never to step
Into the house,
White chases tan
While brown blanches
Ochre darkens
With lust
Turns ogre
Finds the door shut.

Colours of desire

When we meet
We swap lists
Of what we have bought,
She looks admiringly
At my designer wear
Praises my taste
Envies my luck
At getting a rare shade
Extracts a promise
To get one for her;
Pleased, I seek her tips
For repainting my house
I tell her I liked her decor
The last time I visited her;
After making a fresh list
Of what was new in the market
And what we needed to buy
We take leave, heads bursting
With the colours of desire