For him the bell tolls

The bell rings twice these days

Pairs of sandals, shoes, sneakers pile at the entrance.

Basket full of boxers, blouse and petticoats for today’s laundry  

Two coffee cups, lunch boxes are now mandatory.

Queue before shower, about to go late

Lotions, potions, and a whole of lot of motions relayed.

Early dinner, late night snack, lying down in bed

Routines never thought of and yet naturally they came.

Staring at watches, waiting for bells to ring,

Disbelief in the clutching hands that always left without warning.

The arms, legs, chests and backs discover their complementing curves

Wrap around a perfect waist or caress a cushioned bust.

The nostrils fill with familiar smell,

The chemistry of salt and sour delicious as always.

The sound sources are alive, right across the ear

The moans and murmurs are on musical chairs.

It is too good to believe they are all here for real

Or perhaps a long wait before it all disappears.    

Ants

Ants march on my arms, I smell flood.


The anarchy of clouds and my ambitious neighbor drown our season’s harvest,

just as it did last year.

We look anorexic. 

The contour of our body blurs,

taking hours to recall the face to match the voice.

A narrow opening in the jammed window

Bring in air to breathe, to allure, demure and becomes a plague.

We emaciate, vaporize from tactile responses

To images, memories, fantasies.

A shadow casts itself in the mirror

Stares back at us to scare

And you pretend not to see.

Free Fall from Bliss

A free fall from bliss

To the depths of misery,

Trails through a chasm of doubt, ingratitude and anger,

sinners pass without regret,

Invincible and without wound,

between the warring trenches of argument,

beheaded corpses of cupid, pickled fetus in jars .

Summon Israfil for a nuclear holocaust,    

A mushroom cloud is hanging over our smoking pipes.

Breathe in and multiply in millions

As white blood cells, crabs, leeches -

in your stomach, crotch, tongue and ears.  

Swallow the bullets, they grow back as words,

The tantrums are just foreplay,

before the killing spree begins in the next anatomy class.

The formalin smells great, scalpels ready for action,   

The incisions would be perfect, sewn back to just as it was

Only a couple of organs missing you never had any use for.   

The anesthetic is trickling down fast,

Go to sleep now, you’ll be spared the pain. 

May 01, 2011

Peking Duck

My idle wings carry just enough weight

To land in your arms – once.

They wait for years without.

I love water, they slide right through my feathers

Small planktons, fish and snails to feed on

Little dips, smooth sailing,

Cacophonies of meaningless laughter.

My guiltless fat crackles in fire

Ending up in gourmet dining

With your drools all over.

The last thing I remember

In rows hanging upside down

Masks and aprons up since dawn.

Knives sliding down throats dripping blood,

Skinned to perfection,

Roasted tender, sweetened in sauce.

I’ll be up for specials

Prepared in hands of chefs taking years to master

Displayed in hooks bare naked

To allure hungry diners.

My redemption is your indulgence

Your acid consumes mine

I begin to transform and exist-

In your marrow, flesh, blood and bile.

March 25, 2011

Boss Indica

As we speak the dawn appears

Bats close their wings

Cockroaches creep between furniture gaps

And poetry disappears.

We have office hours, meetings, clients, papers, documents, Xerox machines,

Our  whining, complaining, bullying bosses

Relying, cheating, scheming, selling - you, me and everything.

I stare at your lies

You look away confused trying out new weapons.  

Your Black Dog smells my age, where’s my cage?

I throw back at you my rage,

Drink is good only with friends.

I don’t need company, only business.

No yelling bosses or meek sly assistants.

You tear my soul down

Keep me awake in blinding days

I need to wake with bats, creepy cockroaches.

Let me keep my knights

Loose all these mercenaries

And welcome you my dizzy heights

In poetry with ruffled hairs.

January 31, 2011

Go Away Forever

Go away forever, Love.

Don’t give me hopes

I’m going back to my world.

It’s hard to say goodbye every five years,

As bad as watching my five year old 

dying on me while I live on.

I can’t let go of her old photographs,

Boxes full of memory and her little socks.

Cockroaches make themselves at home

With love letters,

Followed by spiders and lizards in search of food.

They move from one address to the next,

With closet full of out of fashion clothes,

Books and words of wisdom occupying wall space,

Growing as old as mother’s classic jewelry

In fashion again and again.   

And as proud as I feel they belong to me now

One winter at midnight,

I invite myself at a burial ceremony

Under blankets on a frozen bed with a hot cup of tea,

Music on the background,

No intention of getting up early,

Chocolates and snacks unlimited for free.

A phone call interrupts,

I'm back again to that memory lane,

Another crawl and fight on the way up

To see and believe it’s no longer there.

The dead remains unburied,

Food for vultures, hyenas, rats, slimy bugs, cockroaches, spiders, lizards.

It  gets better everyday.

Phone calls distract less.

The body parts are dismembered with help from the scavengers,

They are buried each day

One at a time, 

I'll get them all soon

Until they never grow back.

Don’t pick up my calls.

If you won’t live with me

Don’t love me back.

I’ll be fine in my world.  

January 13, 2011

Unsalted and Pan Fried Butter

You were melting like butter on a fry pan on fire,

Turning a fillet crisp seasoned in pepper and salt

I couldn’t resist a bite, knowing I have

Layers on my tummy and block in the heart.

I am risking Diabetes with your sugar sweet words,

I should run, burn, drink bitter to calm down,

My sleepless nights ruins my day

They are still my most favorite hours.

My kisses are death, what I touch dies

Death becomes me, I become her.

There’s no delight in mourning,

A kill is as good as life

If you know how to live from ruins

And practiced with masters in this art .

Lies help you live,

False hopes survive,

Gods never show up

We don’t live to see prayers answered.

I turned my back against him long time ago

And let me tell you he is not least bothered.  

You sulk and sulk in buckets of tears

It’s good for eyes sometimes

You don’t expect some friends to get you

Their insecurity irritates and makes you laugh.  

Words are like arrows

Once thrown can’t be held back

It’s good to have some armors ready

Just in case, one comes around to make you worry.

If you’re here to make me feel bad

Be aware my deadly words strike hard,

You’d gasp for breathe to rid of nightmares

And a sum of all the wraths of my curse.

You’d melt like soft butter under my gentle warm knife

Ending up as breakfast with bread, jam, jelly, honey, sugar  

Beware my dear, what you are getting into

You'd be scared shit,  I'll be watching for fun the horror. 

January 11, 2011

Meeting an Old Friend

We are too honest to talk of things

Other than what they are,

You’ll feel a bit embarrassed but I don’t care.

We used to say we’ll meet years later

As kids we were then,

With bald spots on head

And tires round our waist.

We lost touch at one point, we both know why we left.

It’s never too late to catch-up, if you feel the same.

You do brand promotions, qualify as good parent,

I stay single( I call independent) disqualified from marriage market.

There is too much Heineken and hangovers on the weekends,

I crave for conversation and sweets as always instead.

How many more years do you think we’ll be spared?

I never imagined seeing you this old at 30 years of age.

I tell you, stop talking of the past you’d never live again

The disease you have is you wanted things too early,

Not knowing what they meant.

It is good not to have things too soon

You know there is a price for every achievement.

I protect myself away from peer pressure and rat race,

Thinking I’m different from the rest.

Doesn’t help anyway,

No pats on the back, someone saying that’s ok.

Let’s bitch together about life and everyone we hate

Pretentious and all too fake face lifts of facebook friends.

Affairs, adventures, promotions, next holiday getaway,

Getting over brainfucks and our poor defense.

Dinner and booze would be great, if they come from your fat cheque.

I will offer bed and breakfast at my place, the same address – my parents’.

We’ll stay-up all night, laugh until we pee in our pants,

There couldn’t have been a better time and place for a get together again.

Have you wondered why all on a sudden I rhyme too much these days,

Wait till I tell you, you can try doing the same.

January 09, 2011

Summer in Brooklyn

If I have pissed you off

I would consider my mission accomplished.

We have done this before

I’ve screamed on your face, left my trails of torment,

You pretended to ignore and worst,

Spilled your beans to people full of beans

I’ll always hate them for.

Let’s not spoil it anymore,

I’ll stop complaining, you’ll stop hating

We won’t discuss it,

I won’t keep you awake,

Don't send me letter of acknowledgment,

You must be stupid to think it will call us even.  

Lock your lips with mine; we’ll talk for hours,

We’ll lock ourselves for a week, in bed with room-service.

Just like old days in Brooklyn Heights,

Sushi on Hicks Street, dumplings in China Town,

Mojito uptown, Gay bars downtown,

You and F train off to work, me cooking hot dinner.

Mothers of six, kids on strollers,

Men with long sideburns making a pass,

Coney Island beach, boardwalk yesterday

Verizona Bridge from Bay Parkway today.

Refunds at Comic book stores,

Duane Reed and reading all about Trojan condoms.

BAM and strip pokers at home,

Free concerts and alcohol in pet bottles.

Central Park, Pretty Puerto Ricans and all that drums,

Prospect Park and a walk we both remember.                                                                                         

Our very own chauffeur, angry songs in chorus,

Your best friend in the city, 

cool roommate to hang out with.

Married couples were jealous,

How good we looked together,

We hated phone calls,

Them inviting us over.

We made plans for Boston,

To friends with couch and free dinner.

My flight was due on 15th

We waited for another summer.  

It’s been three years already,

We have waited long enough.

I’ll be off to work in DC, Virginia;

See me at least in Grand Central or La Guardia.

January 07, 2011

Cat and Mouse

Talk to me, stay a while

You don’t get me, I still don’t mind.

I may leave soon,

You'd regret you didn’t stay.

I am in a hurry, you have deadlines.

You love sports, I love to play.

I want to make love, you kiss me goodnight.

You look confused, I know what I want.

You want to forget, I want to torment.

You asked about him, I asked about her.

She looks fake, I hate to be next to her.

He sings well, you could never.

You two were lovers, we only shared a kiss.

I look for excuse, you give me verdict.

I was fooled into loving you, you'd be a fool not to love me.

I’ll tear you into pieces, you’d leave me alone.

I know your secrets, everyone knows mine.

I’ll give you nightmares, you’ll quit sleeping.

You’re scared of ghosts, I’m scared of mine.

You have dark circles, I have lost my hair.

I’m your cat, you are my mouse,

I adore bite-marks, you bite really hard.

It’s day in your world, night in mine.

Let’s go to bed, we’re both tired.

January 07, 2011

A Sad Poem for Everyday

This is a sad poem for everyday;

A verse to an epic

Written off, crossed out, rewritten, rephrased and edited

Without ending, dragging on and on like Arabian Nights.

The muse, our endless argument,

Inspiration – past mistakes,

Fuel - your shattered confidence.

The audience, the victim – us

And many of ourselves who keep to themselves -

Imaginary, old flame, and yet to be explored games.

We do a closed reading every night

In a congregation of half dreams.

New applause, new appreciation, a resolution

And back to a new verse again.

We've had enough happiness, let’s call it a day!

Another long distance call, another argument,

Recall of our mistakes, me shattering your confidence,

And just rounding up hopefully by me forgetting all about it next morning and

You, threatening with no love.

January 05, 2011

Sunday Morning Blues in Syracuse

Your perfect white teeth pops out on screen every now and then

I in return give out grins in the mirror

There was never a better time to fall out of love.

The bedspread and comforters lay rolled up in a pile,

Dirty laundry, dishes in the sink, empty refrigerator,

The sun hits the stinks of take away boxes, socks and shoes at 12 pm.

It’s – 1 inside, outside.

We walked all the way from downtown last week. Drunk.

Sunday morning on winter break,

No meeting scheduled, invitation, assignments or planes to catch,

The neighbor seems to think the same-

A couch, one pair of sleepers, Netflix, tea, coffee and chocolate cakes.

The skunks are out in the yard scavenging last week’s trash.

The snow’s melt and so did our footprints from late night stargaze.

My butt heavy steps crack the oak stairs for a cigarette break,

Smokes never smelt so good, my feet never felt so heavy,

A walk would be great, a walk would be torture.

The Burlington is ready, so are the cheap boots,

Perhaps lunch in Panda West or Dinosaurs downtown,

Lou Reed lived a few blocks from here, friends on Westcott just a call away. 

We watched Maya together, her cats in love, their kittens warm near the fireplace.

The church bells call out the pious, the Sabbath is over,

My atheist friend and everyone else out for a brunch special,

The mailbox is empty, missed calls on the cell phone.

Strangers say hello, you said “that’s all”.

My house is down the hill,

An infamous park, just round the corner

I get email alerts about muggers after dark,

We laughed how valuable they thought life was.

My insurance doesn’t cover injury

I avoid stepping on black ice

If I step and fall, I’ll make sure I never call an ambulance.

We never got anywhere near accident, you never got to stay awake and hold my hand.

I didn’t see the Niagara Falls, only buffaloes in the farm

Nobody would believe I live upstate

Unless I talk about Haudenosaunees and great white snowbeds.

The greyhound took me down south to the city,

We don’t wait at bus stations anymore.

I’ll finish another cigarette,

Call my friend to take me shopping and to the frozen green lakes,

Perhaps dinner at Dinosaurs, movie night at Carousel.

I’ll decide later,

You are free to choose to forget.

January 06, 2011

Threats

Long lines and pause in our conversation,

Inevitably diverging to trifling details 

that gives me chills and you a good night’s sleep.

I swear I will pass my anguish and chills to your bones 

Or already succeeding, becoming, tender, sweet, soft and gone.

January 05, 2011