Winter Song


I sit by the embers of a bonfire
And watch the clouds as they convene,
Heavy with burdens they grudge to release.
The sky is dressed in steely blue
The wind hisses, and faded voices
Come and go, come and go.
Light flickers somewhere
Far on the horizon,
And yonder the black shadow
Of a church tower.
But this is a promiseless night
Of a promiseless life.
The laughter of the un-cursed,
Brighter than the sun itself,
Forever echoes in my ears.
But my fingers grasp the icy wind
And my knees bang on frozen mud.
I invoke the snow to bury me
And let me sink into its embrace
And catch me, and save me from the frosty morn.
But no answer comes. No comfort.
Only the blanket of midnight.
That falls on me as I lie
With eyes wide open,
Dried tearless by the unfeeling wind,
Lips frozen in prayer,
Heart waning,
And waiting,
Forever waiting for a better spring
Since your departure.


This Side of The Moon

My Tinder profile jokingly calls out to those who want to be immortalised in a poem. And curiously many men get in touch demanding their poem without even doing anything to inspire me. Well, all I can give them are a line or two. On the other hand, the inspiration behind my most recent works never asked for a poem. He became my muse without knowing it. He was simply attentive, selfless and caring. And I lost him before he could even be mine. I wish he knew. I wish he read my works. I wish there was hope for us. 


On this side of the moon,
When evening rushes in,
I don the guise of a huntress
And march, across dead leaves
And dead dreams
Into stuffy bedrooms
And obscure pubs
And ice-cream parlours
And tequila bars
Though I know you aren’t there.

The half-darkness promises noble preys
But morning falls on overripe boys
Who do not merit a mere blotch
Of my overflowing ink.

On this side of the moon,
Lips kiss while souls lie in boredom
And bodies mingle, but hearts never unite.
So my neglected heart
Wraps itself into your memory,
And my lips, frozen in feigned smile,
Swallow a waterfall of tears.
On this side of the moon
I will miss you until my final day.

And on the other side of the moon?
Do you remember the taste of my kiss,
The warmth of my hand,
The shade of my eyes?
Do you ever dream about me,
Or lie awake,
Asking what could have been?
Or is my heart too far away
On this side of the moon?

A Storm is Coming

The waves still sway softly by the shore,
And the mist of paradise still curtains the land.
But yonder back clouds hold their council
To herald the approach of war.
A storm is coming.
The wind screeches and mocks us.
This time there is no escape.
The boat, oft besieged by rain, cannot withstand more.
The mist dissolves.
The sun hides in fear.
A storm is coming,
And the boat must capsize.
Its cargo, gathered lifelong,
Unseen treasures destined to delight,
All will succumb to decay
When the storm arrives.

I pity thee, woeful captain, who dreamt of
Happy excursions on summer days,
Envisioning love, and feeding on laughter.
Summer has run away, captain.
And winter is in charge.
From now on, storms will reign and rage.
But worry not, captain.
A mighty storm is coming.
You will soon be at rest.

Back to London

This is a poem that expresses how I feel about returning to London after spending most of the summer having fun overseas.

The black shadows of memories embrace me.
As paradise flies away on a paper plane
And the leaking vase of joy falls into pieces.

And I awaken on the riverbank
To see all,
My hopes, my dreams, my life flow by
Slowly, surely.
And only London stays behind;
My nightmare in daylight,
The city of choking air
And empty hearts.

I hold onto the wind, the smoke, the puff of steam,
All that’s upward-bound
And saves me from the inevitable,
Ultimate fall.


Falling in love, with sights, flavours… and people is an inevitable part of every journey. It makes it painful to leave, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. This poem below is a souvenir from an encounter that, however casual it was, still left a deep mark on my heart.

~To K.~

Daylong I hunger, but food cannot sate me,
Daylong I shiver, but fire cannot heat me.
My desire, my wish, my all
Is the golden-haired, golden-hearted boy,
Mine for a moment
And gone forevermore.

Oh, warm, hazy red nights,
The orange flame in your eyes,
And me, white, raw,
Rarely marked by love.

But your soul kissed my soul,
And your heart embraced my heart,
And time stopped, and my love was born.
Until daylight invaded and hope vanished.

I fit into your arms
So well that I thought
I belonged there.
But I belong to no one.
My love, my smooth, polished crystal heart
Vanquished by the world;
And distance,
Mountain after mountain
Between us.

So I drift on, and long, and hunger
For love that cannot be;

Amor vincit nihil.