Posted in Love Poems, poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized

Baby Blues

family

How after 4 years, together,
we see two indentations,
on a mattress, the beauty sleeps,
that become discolored impressions,
You see, as a measure of time.

I can’t help smile,
seeing my wife, keeps her legs hoisted
in the air, to allow for the tadpoles
to swim through by gravity, while
a Sunday Times newspaper
lies beneath her, on the bed.

Silly me, to think, that for
two people who are ambivalent,
about children, we possess the right
to create one. We laugh afterwards,
looking at the wet newspapers,
the humble pie, that is served,
to clean up, and perhaps
even replace, a wet sheet.

The same newspapers, we will, one day,
fold, to make paper boats or floating jets.
The conquistadors and the aviators,
paper hoists, inside a child’s heart.

While, before throwing away the newspaper,
I look at a little stain, rich in life,
directly on a newspaper article, that to
my delight, – and anguish – reads,

Quadruplets born at
Lady Ridgeway Hospital.

Posted in Love Poems, poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized

-I Love You-

Love 10

How we loved, the exhales,
To the exfoliants, the chemistry,
Of what was so tender, and if not,

Unrushed,

The little bit of daylight, between me
And you. How we let our blindfolds,
Strip our pupils, our peep holes.

While we begin the seduction,
Juxtaposition-ed fragrances, ever-closing gazes,
The mouth in extenuating circumstances,

Mouthing,

With the sail raised, “Ahoy Sailor”!
Holding her, in sheer brevity, in ephemerality,
Ethereal lips too esurient, to miss out,

Inching towards an inclined state,
To become conscious, of a paltry breath,
A short burst of hot air, combing fuzz.

Strange,

The coincidences, that we coalesce to,
How détente is beautiful, and prone to,
Empower, a euphemism, as four letters.

The oasis is lush, the springs are pristine,
The date palms are tall. The dire sense
Of water, on a tongue’s terminus,

To be quenched,

Just as much, by defeat…….

As by surrender.

Posted in Love Poems, poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized

On Father’s Day 2018 (To my Dad)

0331

The difference, between “my father”,
And “our father”, is that, one gave me life,
In the form of a tiny, swimming tadpole, 
And stood as my canopy,
On my darkest night; while the other,
Gave me heavenly incandescence,
To evaporate my tears, and to mirror my face
With the saffron sun.

While I thank my father, on his day,
Knowing, that my mother’s breasts once forgotten,
I could only stand under your canopy, your arms open,
So unlike prayer, and those interfacing palms.
How in a world of, decoys and serendipity,
Judases and Midases, you showed me, the difference
Between faith and fate.

One is the reverence, of a heavenly occupant,
Who sculpts the Invictus in you,
And the other gives me, Cartesian coordinates,
To my eternal duel, with dyscalculia,
Metamorphosing into my GIS, every time I’m
Inside a labyrinth. Life is just about,
How I fit into my dad’s shoes, those Size 14s,
Which I wear with three thick socks.

How I could never measure up to my dad,
The lighthouse with a hundred step
Spiral staircase, a thick window
On top, from where a light shone far,
And a stentorian voice, that I could
Hear, from a distance, like the siren,
Of a lone fog horn.