Return To The First Chapter

Once upon a time in a land far away
Was how most of them started
So I always prepared to go far away
Whenever I read a legend
Then it all started with a death
And finding clues to catch the killer
I often prepared to heave a sigh of relief
Next came those she was not truly wanting
him but he wanted her ,they ended
wanting each other , the Mills &Boons
My bane to belong to a gang of giggling
faces , curious and expecting
Last came the best
The ones I read to survive
the meaninglessness of life with out words
Now plot did not matter
The person did…
Now the end did not suffice
to justify the means
I read about real life characters
I could return to the first chapter
Knowing the end …

Writing in Bed

Men continue to write
in a bed
That she never slept in
She stopped searching
for a dream as she read
the clouds writing helplessly
in the sky that refused to
let them weep rain
And saw the raped wife
using a measuring tape
to design a new cot sitting
outside the room
body less

ENJOY THE KILL

You try so hard to push me
down the gutter
You toil day and night
to ensure that I am loved by none
Every word of mine is used to assess me
in the worst light
Every person I meet is used to judge
me….
I gave up on love long ago
Do not resuscitate
just to enjoy the kill…..
Leave me my paper world
Spare me this world of make believe…
Do not spy on me all the time
Just to feel in control
Quoting me out of context
I am tired of being on trial
for wanting compassion
For feeling compassion.
I can sleep easily
Said the man with out conscience
After the kill….
He liked the fight
Fingering a woman
Her mind was their arena
Two men or more against one mind
The weaker hated her the most

Love of the Oppressed

Falling in love with an oppressed
Man was the height of romance
Catherine was lonelier
for love on the moors
Against Headley
not for Edgar
but a Heathcliff the brute
Emily Bronte and many others
Were the Anima of a beast
The dark fiend justifiably
Aggressive is perhaps
the only emotion denied
and desired in a sanatorium
of gasping breaths
Muse was the projection
Whose suffocating
Smothering embraces
kept the soul of the anima
kicking alive

ANCHOR

Love can also destroy
Sometimes more than hate
I have already been there
Now it sleeps in separate compartments
In a dinner plate or cut fruits
In a muted phone….
A switched off TV as you speak
And that repeated day dream of UFO
during your regular shouting matches
As I look at the Advertisement columns
To sell the dysfunctional refrigerator
Black sucker fish swims
for the fourth year in the aquarium
around the miniature anchor