dreams · love · poem · Poetry

Free Fall

I don’t dream of flying.
No.
The dream of flying
comes with the fear of falling.
Instead,
I dream of falling,
Along with my inhibitions
And fears.
I want to fall off a cliff,
A high mountain,
Stripped off my fears
One by one.
Letting go of everything
That I have,
Until I have nothing
Nothing but my soul.

As I fall deeper,
I become light,
A cotton wool,
A cloud.
Maybe on my way
I shall become a rain drop

Maybe when it’s time
To touch the ground
My wings will open
And I shall fly.

(Featured Image- Ron Griswold)

blogs · LGBT · love · poem · Poetry · relationships · society

Taboo

Let our love be a taboo
Hidden in the deeps
Of our hearts.
Let’s not let it out.
Let’s not speak of it.
Cross your heart and I will, mine
For the world is a cruel place
It ruins all that’s virgin
And kills all that’s life
It can’t keep a secret.
Good things don’t last
And rare ones often get extinct.
If they won’t understand
Why even give them a chance?

blogs · love · marriage · old age · Poetry · relationships · Uncategorized

Promise – IV

Years later, when
Time will be old and wrinkled,
When kids will have their kids
And I will lose all my teeth,
When you will need a third limb
For your daily needs,
When no one will care
About us being in love,
When the mirror
Would blatantly lie,
Don’t believe him,
Just use my glasses and not yours
And through my eyes,
You will still be beautiful
And I will still be charming
I promise.

Featured Image- Old Couple or Musician (Salvador Dali, 1930)

blogs · love · marriage · Poetry · relationships · Uncategorized

Promise – III

When our boy is out there,
Playing, hurling himself into the mud,
When our girl is with him,
Beating him, like girls always do,
When the scene makes you smile,
And your mind wanders to the past
That was different and difficult,
You look out for me,
But where am I?
‘Right behind, Ma’am’, I say,
Your tea is with me.
Just the way you wanted,
You smile,
Just the way I promised,
To love,
Then, now, forever.

blogs · love · marriage · poem · Poetry · relationships · Uncategorized

Promise – II

When world is done shouting,
And silence is making your tongue heavy
Like a bad taste, pukish
I will let your head collide with my chest
Your hair scattered on my belly, crimson
Like blood at a murder scene
Your vermilion smeared on my shirt, crimson
Like a bullet through my chest.
I die in that moment of mum,
In that moment of mum, we live.
We will live through it,
I promise.