Liberated
of inhibiting doubts.
Ravenous spirits gush out.
Wildly spurting
from constricted eternity.
Shamelessly abandoning abandon.
Drops of delicious you
scorching my skin.
Pin-pricks of ecstasy.
Pools of sticky lust
tingling with sensuous ripples.
Parting of thirsty lips.
Drunk in a verbal frenzy
of amateurish vulgar charm.
Honey wrapped fingers.
Delightfully sucked beyond
redemption past rapture.
Agonizing wait spills over.
Crashing past raunchy
protests of innocence.
Fervent pleas please.
Oh please do
not.
Stop teasing my hunger.
Mouthful of risqué bitten
off in greedy chunks.
Sweat laden gasps devoured.
Tired of time
and again of moaning whispers.
More, more and endless more.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Familiar sounds
"You coward!" She spit out the words at him with as much vengeance as she could muster. "You joke of a man. And a second rate one at that. All you can do is run away." She looked at him with glazed, red eyes. He did not answer back.
"Speak, damn it! Say something. How can you just keep quiet, you spineless.." She choked and her voice faltered. She clutched onto his arms like one possessed. Her nails had broken his skin and a trickle of crimson blood oozed out.
"I hate you! Do you hear - I hate you! I hate you for having loved me so selfishly. For making me forget the misery that is loneliness. And for reminding me again, so brutally. I hate you"
Her voice had trailed into a whisper now. The antiseptic whiteness of the room sickened her. The only sound other than her enraged, helpless voice were the periodic beeps emanating from the machine. The cruel measurement of the remnants of a beautiful life.
She was so afraid of the quiet that would follow. That threatened to greedily engulf her complete life, without any remorse.
She was feeling raw, like a forsaken piece of meat left out on the butcher's table, waiting to be chopped and diced. Her strength to wage this battle was at its nadir. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her eyes closed.
She stood on an endless plain. Flat, desolate and enveloped by a deafening silence. She screamed but her voice did not come out. She gasped for air, but the air refused to flow into her starving lungs. Then his voice rang out from somewhere, jarring her to the bone. She frantically looked around to locate the source. She had heard him say that before. Many times. Only now it seemed unreal - recorded. Someone clicked the stop button and the voice stopped. She felt nauseated by her relief at the stopping of his voice and defeated by her familiarity with the silence. Her legs, suddenly gave up on trying to hold her upright. She collapsed. The ground was as hard and cold, as a polished sheet of naked steel, and stung her brazen skin like a scorpion.
She lifted her head with a start. The periodic beep was still the only sound around. Suddenly, it did not seem so cruel anymore.
"Speak, damn it! Say something. How can you just keep quiet, you spineless.." She choked and her voice faltered. She clutched onto his arms like one possessed. Her nails had broken his skin and a trickle of crimson blood oozed out.
"I hate you! Do you hear - I hate you! I hate you for having loved me so selfishly. For making me forget the misery that is loneliness. And for reminding me again, so brutally. I hate you"
Her voice had trailed into a whisper now. The antiseptic whiteness of the room sickened her. The only sound other than her enraged, helpless voice were the periodic beeps emanating from the machine. The cruel measurement of the remnants of a beautiful life.
She was so afraid of the quiet that would follow. That threatened to greedily engulf her complete life, without any remorse.
She was feeling raw, like a forsaken piece of meat left out on the butcher's table, waiting to be chopped and diced. Her strength to wage this battle was at its nadir. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her eyes closed.
She stood on an endless plain. Flat, desolate and enveloped by a deafening silence. She screamed but her voice did not come out. She gasped for air, but the air refused to flow into her starving lungs. Then his voice rang out from somewhere, jarring her to the bone. She frantically looked around to locate the source. She had heard him say that before. Many times. Only now it seemed unreal - recorded. Someone clicked the stop button and the voice stopped. She felt nauseated by her relief at the stopping of his voice and defeated by her familiarity with the silence. Her legs, suddenly gave up on trying to hold her upright. She collapsed. The ground was as hard and cold, as a polished sheet of naked steel, and stung her brazen skin like a scorpion.
She lifted her head with a start. The periodic beep was still the only sound around. Suddenly, it did not seem so cruel anymore.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Sleeping with a man
It had to come to this one day. The way this... I mean, my life... is going, it had to come to this. After all the situation gets more and more desperate every day.
Wait, wait!
Did you think men had such low standards! When a woman falls down from the bed at the mere thought of sleeping with me, how did you imagine a man could do that? Huh? Come on... give a man some credit!
Yes, in a beautiful village nestled in the lap of the snow covered mountains, I shared my bed with a kind and honest man for a week. And this says a lot about that man, who is from another world, which is practically alien to me. Who gets as much beating at work as I do, probably more. Who is perhaps simpler in thought than I am and that in a way is saying something. If you have ever tried being honest with yourself for longer than a few weeks, months or years, you will realize how incredibly hard it is to find it in another. And you thought I was going to talk about.... Cheeez!
When one goes through a time of confused crisis in one's head for twenty-four hours a day, an offer to stay one's reckless fall when one is speeding downhill at a reckless pace, is nothing short of an act of incredible courage. Foolish maybe, because I am almost double his weight, but courageous nonetheless. Another addition to the beauty, which surrounds me? I see too much, as someone once said to me.
Intimacy is as much in a wetness of a passionate kiss, as in a gentle smile of understanding. Have you ever stood in front of a mirror and hated your body? I have. Even for a split second, it is not a pleasant way to feel. Yet, somehow I recovered from it, stronger in ways, I don't fully realize. Because I still find myself standing. Because I understand. Do I? And what has this got to do with the subject of this post?
White mountains,
White skin,
Soft snow,
Frozen inside akin,
Grey crowds,
Grey days,
Meandering roads,
Solitary silent ways,
Red seduction,
Red pain,
Bread and cheese,
Self pity in vain,
Black night,
Black fear,
Will to dream,
To hold you near.
Wait, wait!
Did you think men had such low standards! When a woman falls down from the bed at the mere thought of sleeping with me, how did you imagine a man could do that? Huh? Come on... give a man some credit!
Yes, in a beautiful village nestled in the lap of the snow covered mountains, I shared my bed with a kind and honest man for a week. And this says a lot about that man, who is from another world, which is practically alien to me. Who gets as much beating at work as I do, probably more. Who is perhaps simpler in thought than I am and that in a way is saying something. If you have ever tried being honest with yourself for longer than a few weeks, months or years, you will realize how incredibly hard it is to find it in another. And you thought I was going to talk about.... Cheeez!
When one goes through a time of confused crisis in one's head for twenty-four hours a day, an offer to stay one's reckless fall when one is speeding downhill at a reckless pace, is nothing short of an act of incredible courage. Foolish maybe, because I am almost double his weight, but courageous nonetheless. Another addition to the beauty, which surrounds me? I see too much, as someone once said to me.
Intimacy is as much in a wetness of a passionate kiss, as in a gentle smile of understanding. Have you ever stood in front of a mirror and hated your body? I have. Even for a split second, it is not a pleasant way to feel. Yet, somehow I recovered from it, stronger in ways, I don't fully realize. Because I still find myself standing. Because I understand. Do I? And what has this got to do with the subject of this post?
White mountains,
White skin,
Soft snow,
Frozen inside akin,
Grey crowds,
Grey days,
Meandering roads,
Solitary silent ways,
Red seduction,
Red pain,
Bread and cheese,
Self pity in vain,
Black night,
Black fear,
Will to dream,
To hold you near.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
The best lie
The cigarette smoke circled up from her lips in perfect rings. She lay looking blankly at the damp ceiling. She was strangely relaxed. Tired, but relaxed. He lay beside her, forbiddingly close, still covered in drying beads of sweat. He was still nauseated by the smell of smoke. He could still feel her all over.
It was good wasn't it?
Yes. It was.
It was the best ever, wasn't it?
She suddenly frowned. As if something had suddenly corrupted the perfect trance of her private blankness. The calm... Why does the calm go away as soon as he speaks.
Why must you do that every time?
Why indeed, he thought. He loved every inch of her five-foot-four frame. He knew it like he had seldom known anything else. He had seldom known anything else. Why should that matter? He knew what he had done.
What did I do! I just said that you were awesome.
She moved her legs over his. The skin on his thighs got goose-bumps. He was waiting. He had been waiting for so long that now he waited out of habit and not out of necessity. Not that it made the waiting any easier or difficult. Finally, as always, he could not wait any more.
Well?
No, it was not. It was not the best I've ever had. I've had better.
She still said it plainly enough. Without any emotion in her voice. Yet he saw the longing in her eyes. Eyes, which hidden behind a veil of smoke, belied her visible calm.
I love you.
I know.
He started humming a song.
What are you doing! Why must you sing when you can't? I can't even understand the song. Whose song is this?
Mine.
Yours!!
She laughed out loud. He smiled. A smile of complete surrender. This is how it must stay. This was the truth. He loved her too much to let this matter. All his pretensions of calm did not matter. His slighted pride did not matter. His attempts at being a man did not matter.
Are you happy with me?
She looked at him. A look of immense kindness. Her lips quivered, but the words did not fall out. She reached out and pressed his hand.
Tell me the truth. Please.
She lifted his hand to her lips. She could smell his sweat. She could smell his fear. She wanted to comfort him. Yet. His love for her was as truthful as he claimed it to be. She knew. She was happy for him. He had found her. His truth.
The truth? The truth is that I am happy. The truth is that you are a good man. The truth is that you are my best lie. My very best.
It was good wasn't it?
Yes. It was.
It was the best ever, wasn't it?
She suddenly frowned. As if something had suddenly corrupted the perfect trance of her private blankness. The calm... Why does the calm go away as soon as he speaks.
Why must you do that every time?
Why indeed, he thought. He loved every inch of her five-foot-four frame. He knew it like he had seldom known anything else. He had seldom known anything else. Why should that matter? He knew what he had done.
What did I do! I just said that you were awesome.
She moved her legs over his. The skin on his thighs got goose-bumps. He was waiting. He had been waiting for so long that now he waited out of habit and not out of necessity. Not that it made the waiting any easier or difficult. Finally, as always, he could not wait any more.
Well?
No, it was not. It was not the best I've ever had. I've had better.
She still said it plainly enough. Without any emotion in her voice. Yet he saw the longing in her eyes. Eyes, which hidden behind a veil of smoke, belied her visible calm.
I love you.
I know.
He started humming a song.
What are you doing! Why must you sing when you can't? I can't even understand the song. Whose song is this?
Mine.
Yours!!
She laughed out loud. He smiled. A smile of complete surrender. This is how it must stay. This was the truth. He loved her too much to let this matter. All his pretensions of calm did not matter. His slighted pride did not matter. His attempts at being a man did not matter.
Are you happy with me?
She looked at him. A look of immense kindness. Her lips quivered, but the words did not fall out. She reached out and pressed his hand.
Tell me the truth. Please.
She lifted his hand to her lips. She could smell his sweat. She could smell his fear. She wanted to comfort him. Yet. His love for her was as truthful as he claimed it to be. She knew. She was happy for him. He had found her. His truth.
The truth? The truth is that I am happy. The truth is that you are a good man. The truth is that you are my best lie. My very best.
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