Friday, February 27, 2009


I could see the shapes,
even in the darkness,
the cool breeze and the furnace..
it seemed like the night of "could-Be's"
the air of passion and pleasantries..
he sleeps besides me,
clutching my arm..
the smoke now setting up a charm.
it's like it was meant to be.
the ash drops with a silent glee..
it just seems right
to have him sleep so peacefully.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Pop goes the weasel!

I made the morning look wild. I stabbed the bed in the middle with a comb that now left a tiny depression, i smeared a little kajal around the eyes and displayed some lingerie around the bed for a hard-to-miss look. i knew this was the day, it just had to be the hour too. i had waited for this for a long time, when he could get off "work" the "next" morning to be back home looking tired and weary. I couldn't leave it at that. something had to be done. I'd made my peace with that. he meant nothing more to me than a crying-in-a-KJ-movie bastard. some wine had spread on the sheets the last night by mistake which proved quite helping now.
There was surprisingly Eric Clapton on the CD making it a little meant to be.
Not that I despise his sexual frequencies that got him laid every other night, it's just that his priorities were a little disturbed. the crying disturbed me at first coz well, c'mon, it wasn't ET that was departing, just same lame monotonous romantic jerk dying. popcorn seemed important that afternoon in the cozy hall. not that I don't like the boast about his night-of-three-times-the-first-time. It's just way too sexually prude to announce that to your two-week old girlfriend. and so it begins. 5 weeks was way too much anyway, plus a little disinterest heads the male orgasms to sniff other options.
Bleak that the chances seemed of me getting into a fight and demanding an explanation, and well if it wasn't meant to be then why deprive oneself from sheer gratitude and well, a bit of sadistic pleasure? Dramatization always helped my source of explanation that proves extremely beneficial right now. and well, the jerk had to learn a lesson. So pop goes the weasel and here comes the rehearsal. the stage is set, the lines are read. Now all it requires is the act and the introduction of the sleazy jackass.
enter: Fun.

Sunday, February 22, 2009


I have always believed..
whatever we see, we conceive,
was somewhere beyond,
something only we could crayon.
we made this reality,
we gave our love,
powering an intensity,
with our own thoughts and actions,
and now this serendipity
of finding ourselves within each other
giving us everything like no other,
is dangling between opportunities and will,
i just wish we knew
that is this luck or reality?
a flow of hedonism?
will it always remain, "passion meeting surrealism"?