14 Wednesday Dec 2016
Posted in poetry or something of the sort., Uncategorized
I walk the streets
of pavements
and people,
with boiling pots of oil
bananas and mango fries,
flowers, shoes
and spectacles
dresses, laughs
dust and pebbles.
I walk
eyes on me
the strange being
walking the streets
alone
mornings
late evenings
and nights at times,
the only brown one
on these roads,
a phone at hand
tracking places
and smiling faces,
in search of food
and solitude.
08 Friday Jan 2016
Tags
I tell him
I need
to move on
to get off the roller coaster
not be that person
around
only when he needed.
I needed
to love
another,
to gather my life
its bits and pieces
to find my way
to move away.
He asks:
“So,
I shouldn’t have said
good morning?”
(c) Creative Commons
13 Friday Mar 2015
Posted in poetry or something of the sort.
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16 Friday Jan 2015
Posted in poetry or something of the sort.
I will not write of you
Cz you asked me not to
I will keep the lines intact
For a novel of fact
Under a fictious tag
Of an amazing nag
(of me ofcourse)
I will write of men
Of women and their men
With nothing of exception
But just mere exemptions
In my life of desertion
Of those I ditch
Switch
From whom
I move on
I will not write to you
No words of harshness
Or gentle perversions
I will just not write
No words of randomness
Of imaginations
Caresses
Or surprises
One day you will look back
In all randomness
And think of all those
Maybe surprises
And the words
I might have written
If I just
Might have written.
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