Casual Intelligence

It feels numb to walk out of the familiar street of clustered love and longing to the vastness of apathy
Hours Wet streaks dry, famine down your cheeks Prayers Hope, like dark clouds drifting away Words, assumed comforts Left over sourness of distant stare and the immediate chill
You walk out the dragging breath, half built bridge. The bunch of females, his mud plains of unejaculated coital mirth

The Mound at my Backyard

The legacy
you pass down
to your son, sits
at your backyard
showering flowers
on to a pit

Golden white fur
breathless, still
sleeps, over ants
mud, dry leaves
and tears

He sits lost, recollecting
the pet names, the cuddles,
the warmth
that spread through his feet

And I, stare through
the million mounds
over my senses

The barren cemetery
Lit by my solo cigars

The Insult

Suddenly, one day
You become a weed
on a courtyard wall

The wild green
that nourishes
on the intrinsic bliss
of his domesticity.

Their murmurs of yesteryears
gather on your body,
hanging down
the dilapidated concrete,
and write
new epilogues
for a play, that ended
much before
the first Act

Your hapless nerves
become, the scorching summer
intruding, their frozen corridors.
The melancholy whore, You
spread like evening rays
over, the impending silence.

Your words
Your skies
Your cuddle
Your newfound womb,
shatter over
a forbidden land, mutilated.

The snake bite
on their moonlit nights, You
ooze out, from
a million pores.


Seventy five summers
weighed down on her
as she stepped out
of the home
he was laid to rest.

Not a drop could contain
the sea, she left to dry
now lost to termites
and her progenies other worlds

She, the alien
to be forsaken, earnestly.
Her hunched values,
broken limbs, sagging breasts
and vague senses

The door, closed
behind her.

the gaze
wind, and
the road.


like an unwritten poem
Word by word
Letter by letter
Breath by breath.

Like an island,
embracing the current
that spreads over her body
the poison blue.

like the sky
Carried away to the south
by the birds

Like people
walking out of lives

like God

Like a love


I may not have done this
if you had, held me close
for a moment or so
before walking away into
the chores of indifference

Leaves holding on to the wind
before the fall.

The morning dew,
droplets of diamonds
On my face, pale white.

Vindication of an Irrational Psyche

On those days you walk out
of a recent love
You feel like a woman
in labor.
That moment
of sudden calm, comes unexpected
as you push your despair out
and lie back, tired.
as if in a post-coitus carelessness.

The nights come back
like a recurring full moon
spreading silver, As you see
time, spread out
like a fisher man’s big catch
of the day.

You become
Spring, infertile
as you bury deep
the desires
from that nether land.

Only to sprout
alphabets, poems
and silence
in your eyes.