A Short Love Poem

To that endless notion, That we all have spells in time, Lurking from crawling to walking, From diaper to khaki pants. And in this pleasant truth, We are defined not by the clothes we wear, But when, and with whom, the clothes come off. We are only a naked art form, Impressionism becoming minimalism, A…

Eulogy to Hugh Hefner

Where to now Hugh? The centerpiece who masterminded The centerfold and made a woman’s body A rightful of a pilgrim’s tabernacle. A man who had scant respect For the fig leaf and made rabbit ears A cynosure. In this Californication You helped boys to grow up to be men, Dancing to the spiking hormones. You…

Courage

There are traces that become trickles. There are amorous eyes who sculpt innocence From soul-to-soul interfaces.  There’s a worthy life-smith in every trapped soul Life will always be a cancer of the breast, A beautiful one at it. There are offshoots of flesh Near the Irrawaddy, rocks that will Never gather moss, tumbling along Conservation…

Bilingual

There are days the tongue, Forgets which way to roll, When I start speaking in Sinhalese With an English accent. I’m like the roti eaten with maple syrup, Or the waffle blending with kithul honey, And I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t see skin bleaching or the brown tan Spilling out, calling…

Evolution

In your long absence – 4 days in total, One half of my bed looks like a temple Waiting for you, its pilgrim, While the calcium strappings I call my bones, become restless On this rust-colored September night Longing like the Arabian sirocco Combs the sandy dunes, The tummy-tires of a fat man, While the…

Humanizing Beauty

There are standards of beauty De-facto mannequins that to the bygone eye, Makes a carefully crafted memory, Which in time, becomes a careless nostalgia, When you look out of a window-pane To a world of unspooling collages. There exists, jawbones, a tad like Mandy Moore’s Thighs and hips, all generously Tyra Banks And a heart…

Fairytale

In life, the prince chases the princess Or the girl next door or a cinder-fingered Ella. Who promised a fairytale in return. And the princess – who’s always beautiful Jumps on the Prince’s car – a flashy one at most times, And they drive off to the sunset, like Bonnie and Clyde, While a string…

Depression

It is strange that melancholy, Although sounding like a tummy-disease of melon, Is just, a crack that lets in neon lightning On an azure collage. Your tummy Collects blue butterflies, into a disorder, A slope that goes along to the abysses, Defining you, as a lepidopterist, Who grows mulberry trees inside his gut, Where little…

Towing

In the foremost moment, You chuck in happy in the form of balmy, The same way you look at an apple.  Malus and malady, pulp and plague, Metamorphosing your lips, your cheeks, Everything other than your mind, Looming to first kill – primavera. Every assassination, straight or gay, Is a little kill at best or…