* oyster *

-- a bird spilling my emotions --

Perched on that beige twig,

she would not fly.

Peering through my window,

she seemed to daunt me.

Obliterated of every melody

she would never chirp,

abandoned, I sensed she was.

The perpetual sky, till furlongs was her courtyard,

but she wouldn't ramble there,

wounded, I perused she was.

Exagerrated wings, she was sheathed in

but fettered, they all were.

To conquer the yonder mountains,

they would never embark.

Withered, thus I painted her as.

A divulged oyster she was,

painting her, I sketched myself.

Rapunzel

Do you know I look complete with you,
with you, my life rambles in
gaiety,
in gaiety,  now I mock all the odds,
the odds that had once endangered me.

Your puerile chortles caress my soul,
my soul, a silent and sepulchral abyss,
till abyss, I can run just to see you,
to see you is the sole penchant for me.

You anoint sentience to my soul,
my soul, it breathes and dies everyday with you,
my rapunzel you are, I die without you,
you are mine in that sky full of stars.

There are people and there are winners.
Losers are mere poltergeists.

THE ORANGE DRESS (PART 1)

It was 10 of September. I was hesitant but anyhow expressed my desire to her to accompany her in her shopping trek. She knew she needed help and gladly validated my proffer. Out of a thanksgiving or a formality or just out of happiness, I don’t know but she hugged me, a hug that departed me to an abstract world of reveries of freaking but delightful feelings, a hug that appeased my wailing heart. My heart, which I knew had dried up of all hope and happiness, was suddenly recuperated and it thumped harder than drums as if wanting to jump out and dance like a lunatic.

We set out together. My heart wanted to roam with hers on my bike and just when I was directed by my stupid brain to take out the car, came from her a voice , “ we are going on bike, right ? “ and I just managed to say, yes. So, two hearts rolled on two wheels inside bustling markets, through jammed roads and over abrupt speed breakers. I kept a track of every expression of hers, everyone one of them caressing my heart more and I felt more and more happy about her. We barged in many shops and hurried out of many and I kept wondering if any attire could embellish her flaring beauty anymore. Finally, we grounded ourselves to a showroom of some acquaintance of hers. She faked many dresses on herself, discarded many more. I was mum all the time dwindling up every emotion of mine but when that orange attire decorated her, I blabbered out. “This one is for you”. She didn’t muse over much and ordered the orange one and hugged me again. I was stoic this time. Well protected in a rectangular box with the tagline, “dressing up two hearts “, came her wedding dress. I was satisfied albeit my heart withered.