Of dreams

Scattered thoughts
Brought together
I thought of sky
You of dreams
A baby cried somewhere in the room
Birds flew carrying wind on their back
No time to look up
Someone yelled love
And we never cared
Too busy to take a breath
A baby blinked at the moon
I closed my eyes to think of tomorrow
You counted days on your finger tips
Someone cried
We searched for napkins
And maybe little words
Broken in pieces to forget
A baby laughed in sleep
I drank myself to sleep
You kept the volume high
For night isn’t to sleep
Someone spread rumours
A baby listened to lullabies
Someone couldn’t jump out of window
A baby played with her thumb
Someone had a fight
A baby learned to say ” mama ”
Someone read scripts
A baby smiled
Someone did something..
And a baby something , something
I was out of job
You quit yours
Under the moon light
We had a dream .

After the chaos

Where the chaos in my mind stops
There is a vast stretch of greenery
And a tiny house
Painted in bright yellow and white
Next to it stands a tree
Very often in purple and green
Through the window
I can see mountains and alpacas
And bush of wild roses
Swaying with the wind
In what we call our backyard
Walls are painted
With murakami words
And pictures of our fantasies
It’s alluring
The place
And I am kind in the silence
You look happy
And I look lovely
We don’t have tea parties
And sandwiches on Sundays
But instead I read my favourite phrases ,
you stretch your body on the sofa
And we eat the leftovers
Sometimes we drink to sleep and
Forget we made love that night
So we make up in the morning
And we giggle
And giggle
And laugh to sleep again
For five more minutes
I hold you back , you hold me back
And it’s late afternoon
We are off to the woods
And mountains and streams
Away is the war
Or smokes in the clouds
And away is the
Away we fly
Away we run
From the questions
Once troubled
Our mind
We are happy
And we never need to ask again


How peace comes in suddenly
Amidst the stretch of a paragraph
As shower of breezes
chirping birds
Flowers of spring
And a brighter day
then slips right into another line
And I am lost again
Between the words
I didn’t choose to read …

A poem

or maybe
Someday I’ll write
A poem, bitter
You’ll clap your hands
and it ends there
You would still bite your lips
And suck the blood dry
When someone takes a life
To call it fate
Or maybe
I’ll write one more piece
When a girl went out at night
Few will talk and
Others will listen and nod their empty heads
Autumn will come again
and the child would continue to cry
For little love he doesn’t even know of
He is deprived
This time , someone will
Make a song out of it
And colour it with tunes
I’ll paint , as I can choose
Of love that misunderstood of lust
Of downfall of emotions
Once even I owned
Maybe tragic will love to grow
Over the bed of butterflies that never came out of their cocoon
And some carcass of happiness
That’s left