Dead Sunflower Fields

Its that kind of evening again

Nothing is safe now

Jackfruits and more burst

And more and more ripe

And the smell this evening

is maddening.

 

Such evenings are just not

Safe for you my little girl

Someone as young and fragile

As you my little girl

And such things stir in me

That heightens this evening

 

And your brown brown hands

Red full lips midnight eyes

Beckon me, they do

They do beckon me and

You dance just ahead of my eyes

And your family waits for you

 

Hurry home to your mamma

Little girl, my little girl

Do you see those eyes over the hedge

covet your brown brown skin

hurry hurry home hurry

home my little brown  girl

 

your mumma waits for you

milk gets colder as a glass on the table

she waits at the door and calls

out to you, her pretty girl of just 13

and here you are dancing in front

of these dirty brown eyes

 

you are dancing in front of me

 

Over my fence under my window 

you jump and skip and run

over my enticing summerfields

my sunflower fields seduce you

and you slow down as your mumma

waits at the door for her pretty girl of 13

 

 

 

It happened just 67 steps from home

And you were snatched and don’t cry

It was not your fault and you will go to the gods

And its all the way to hell for me

For what I did to your brown skin

And you were just a pretty girl of 13

 

 

Those 67 steps you didn’t cover

my little pretty girl of 13

now you will never come home

and your mother knew this would

happen someday to someone as

pretty as her daughter of just 13

 

under my fields and my soil you lie,

my little 13 yearold pay thing

and no one knows still but the

village now whispers and no young girl

take the shortcut through the sunflower fields

 

 

your bone melts from the flesh

your yellow summer dress 

I have hidden somewhere where none will reach

And I burn in my own private hell

And you are now far away from all this and me

But still the sunflower fields haunt me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

we roam the streets

Factories of dreams are now controlled by these one armed men
So you and I now dream the same dream
And we walk the same streets every night
And the street lamps know us
For In groups of 76 we roam the streets
But pretend
For they have promised to keep our secret too.
So we roam the little blind alleys
The lanes now a part of a poor man’s home
And we roam the streets as if in a silent vigil
In groups of 76 we roam the streets
And pretend it’s just a nightly stroll
Pretend we don’t know what the others are doing.
But we dream the same dreams
The same one armed dreams
And wake up on the same foot path
And we go back home and pretend again.
Old beggars sigh with relief and reclaim their space.
And smile for they know our dreams
And the shame the one armed men bring to us every night.

My wish tonight,

A green wall high,

My fingers don’t reach

The other side,

And the nest rests,

On the green wall high,

And orange flowers bloom

On the other side,

Let me live a night,

In its citrus light,

Give me a push towards,

The green wall high,

Where rests a nest,

Overlooking the orange delight,

My wish tonight,

To scale a green wall high,

Help me climb

A green wall high,

My wish tonight,

Before I cry.

Silver buttons pop out one after the other

And now the sheer silk underneath shows.

And I stand amidst a pool of some gauzy fabric,

That was once next to my skin.

I wore them in the evening,

And I now want to wear you,

For I am cold,

I want to wear you

For I am not.

And I do nothing,

As I stand in this windowless room,

And the last button falls

With a resounding tinkle.

And you come just one step closer,

And you think its just one of those nights,

And you would move away in the morn

But you are 75 years too young,

Too young to know

That tonight I can gobble you up,

And the wine has sharpened my teeth,

And my insides await you

Just like my skin,

And you are so young,

You will be trapped soon,

And I open my legs,

And you gasp for breath

And then drown.

And you now know not what you saw

In my eyes tonight,

One kind of life,

Belies another death.

lament in grey

O hridayheena mone ki pore naa amaake!?

Why am I so melancholic tonight. Reading venus envy and am about to cry.i cry over cartoons so its not strange that I might want to cry over a comic strip. But I am not sure I am crying over zoe’s sweet pathetic life. I am crying over my sweet pathetic life. Its 11:32 now and I should be in bed by now since nowadays I wake up so early and stuff but am on the comp hoping somebody comes online and/or someone calls, though she did manage to sms and say she cant. Why? I don’t know.

I hate girls! Have I said that before? I hate how they make me feel.

O the heartless one don’t you ever think of me?

here's to women and here's to hoping i wasn't one.

I Can't Be Around Her
I've only to look at her
Or brush my hand against her hand
And this thing between my thighs
Starts to instantly expand.

I can't be around her
Without longing to touch her,
Without longing to hold her
Without longing to screw.
I can't be around her
Without longing to feel her,
Without longing to kiss her---
What the hell can I do?

I think of maggots in the mud,
I think of termites in the wood,
I think of gore and slime and blood,
But it does no good.

I can't be around her
Without longing to grab her,
Without longing to crush her,
Without brimming with lust;
I can't be around her
Without longing to lick her,
Without longing to eat her---
Any moment I'll bust!
Any moment I'll bust.

in wait of rejection

They call me coward.
As I stand in the bylines
And sigh and sob
And make many such futile noises
Of frustration.
Of loneliness.
Of may be even relief.
For to approach
To get off that cold slab on which
I sit,
And approach
What is seemingly
Unapproachable,
Will bring smiles,
At last at the seeming
lack of my inhibitions,
on the faces of

all my detractors
and they may even laugh
at my failure to bring home
what seemed out of reach.
even now that I stand in front of you.
And you look at me,
Or through,
Or past me.
And I pray.

(My eyes shut)
Let me off kindly
For I will never again take this same road,
For I am a coward.

cotton polyester

why cant i have him?

who has him?
why is she/he not me?????

on one of the last days

this black ink on paper is not enough

for what i had wanted to say,

i need it engraved on stone i had wanted to say

but i guess its just love i mean.

but i can not say it,

not to you.

and the moment passes for you do not care.

awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

i mean look at her. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

at odd hours

Chemistry is a mysterious thing.
It strikes at odd hours.
Your heart beats faster….I mean Your heart beats faster.
And you know hers beat at the same rhythm.
Or does it?
Do you ask?....
Do you?.....do you?
Wait for the door to open and walk right out.
Don’t look back.
Chemistry is a scary thing.

do we or do we not make an ugly couple??

kunal kapoor of course!!

December

Eyes like december
Fascinate me yet;
Eyes that can't remember
What I cannot forget.

Hands like december
Cool my fevered brow,
Kill this passion's ember
Forever here and now.

Lips like december,
Frozen and forbidden.
Whispers cut and withered,
In death's silence hidden.

Flesh like december,
Once bright and warm,
Now a languid cinder,
Lifeless evermore.

Heart like december;
Blood of bitter snow
And I the sick pretender
Unable to let go.




the poem is not mine and right now i forget whose, but definitely found it on an FtM website

let's look at it this way!!!! yummmm.

Lament of an Ugly Girl

as i watch your face
through the fire
that burns between us.
i pray i get over you
before the fire touches me,
for beauty till now did not affect me
and now that i stare at you
i am aware
i am aware
that i could have looked away
had you looked like me.

Kunal Kapoor

this guy deserves to be worshipped for the sheer beauty that he is.
and oh! he reminds me so much of somebody else.

Kajolagainandagainandagain...