poetry @plasticchutney - Tumblr Blog

do you do i

brief miniscule moments maybe one or two or three or more when you looked at me up close so I could see your eyes; a tint of a hint difficult to decide, what did you mean when you held my hand, what did you mean when you rested your head on my shoulders and slept, did you feel obliged. did you want to be polite. did you want to hold tight. did you feel what I felt inside: a bit of tingling and a lot of butterflies. my mind is still blind by the thoughts of what could’ve been if I could somehow know: what did you mean what did you want were you afraid of this lost cause? love is not enough I know maybe you did not want to let go of what is there already, already what is. already what is a happy story.

lonely at the bar

Craving for a laugh what a sweet loving laugh a prettiest smile soft smooth skin on butter If only I had the courage to ask for a moment to pour my heart out

on second thought it’s just a drunkard’s talk. some beer and a lovely song i just wish you had come along maybe I should’ve asked but why ruin a possibility a chance at something though not succeeding warms me to think maybe it could’ve... although on second thought it’s just a drunkard’s talk.

Outside your window trying to see catch a glimpse of a private moment momentarily, know a secret, see a scar, see your private body parts, underwear, tank tops, sports bra, sanitary pads, some spoons bizarre, your laundry i would sniff. . out in the cold my feet stiff. outside your window trying to see a cold war brews inside me, i knew you once, inside out, the inside of your pout, the bottom of your tongue, bitch, the taste of your cunt the smell of your skin sweaty from the heat. breasts full of meat, the wetness of the sheets, the flapping of the beats, what would i give . another life to live to each our own you said but i disagree i want to see no blink of an eye nowhere to be i want to see outside your window just, let me be.

an old f l a m e

I burn to want so much so much a lot-lot much to spend one extra two minutes in meaningless conversation with you,

on that staircase or the doorway or the corridor or when you are by the water cooler or helping yourself one extra two minutes at the lunch counter or just gazing into your work by the window on your chair or the bookshelf by the door or the materials in the store some coffee in the kitchen maybe outside with the kitten one extra two minutes I burn to want one extra two minutes before tomorrow when I am a different man one extra two minutes I wish I had.

I’m disappointed in you

is this a game of repetition, imposition of my deposition, again and again and again, and you will listen, your ears bleeding your throat is dry, your nails scratchy of a bitter smile, eyes wound up a million times, a million times i will reprise, a repetition of a repetition, imposition of my deposition, again and again and again, again and again and again...

In the wait of light, I’ve loved the dark. Afraid now that the light will blind me, I’d rather keep my eyes closed.

Random words Random words into a song, Stuck in my head Tucked in my bed I try to listen. . I close my eyes to see your face Humming along the same, the same, random words into a song, Tucked in my head Stuck in your bed with you.

you are my petrichor

You are always so happy when it rains, the sweet smell of moist mud, and the concrete skies, and you sip coffee. I am secretly happy when it rains, (although the naala here stinks) but won’t let you know so that we debate if rains are good or bad and you win, i win. My friend is saying the same old joke, “god is pissing on us.” we never laugh once, it is a ritual. The naala flows on the road now, and people are cursing. turn your gaze towards the sky. it’s still raining. You’ve put on your rain song. on your balcony, you are dancing along. while i’m swimming on the road my clothes dirty.

#poetry

Keys

i will lock myself in a box and lick myself clean. ignore the knocks, and fill ears with my songs. i will lock myself close my eyes. feed on myself, and on my sunrise the box will dissolve the box will dissolve only to be built again.

#poetry #amateur poetry

Foam

I’ve been screaming A head on the ground Men choking in the elevator Blinded by smoke I’ve been screaming. You’ve given me pills Cut my hair, cut my bills Pushed me from the furniture I’ve been screaming, screaming, screaming 22 21 20 19 18 eyes, voice, terrace rope-way (how old are you?) into another world swallowing soap.

#poetry

your rants.

your rants, they never end, it’s not your fault, you tell yourself and pretend it’s true. do you not know the world is cruel, but no one is helpless really. everyone is fuel for your machine.

#poetry #amateur poetry

Spoiler-free.

Did you ever have your dessert before dinner? watch the ending before the movie? watch the movie before the trailer? Kills the suspense for me. See the four before the three. What have you got for me? Maybe i’ll go on and let you be the ending first. And then make our own story.

#amateur poetry #poetry

Somebody stop me.

I know that I will fill my ego with any sort of appreciation and I know that I will chill once I think I've done enough and I know that I will drill myself if criticized, and it’s genuine and I know that I will kill all your ideas even if they’re better than mine and I know that I will still talk about myself all the time.

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)(

Let me warn you before you think i am worthy of you. i don’t wear my own shoe, i don’t own a tie. i throw away my socks that I've worn for weeks but never washed but left to lie. My morning coffee, my cherished cigarettes i’ll not miss if you flush them, from my life. and while you’re at it empty my fridge i wouldn’t mind. My parents don’t call me, neither do I. if my friends forget me, i wouldn't be surprised. Let me warn you before you think i am worthy of you. Nothing owns me. . Neither do I.

#amateur poetry #poetry

Dead fish on dish Gulp whisky, go quickly. Choke on smoke, choo-choo engine. Whoa-whoa! Attention, attention! “I love you!” I confess, while you kiss your boyfriend.

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Away too long

I can always go back home to the green rice fields that are skinny dipping and fish kissing its feet, and herd the cows revolving around the little stick that tie them to ground while the baby fidgets clenching its teat, Stay up starry nights and play games of ludo Chant kirtans and clap cymbals while they serve gods meat and badushas. But the ganga will rise and with a gush of violent tide float me back to where i belong: Away from home.

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Classroom

What, what? What are you saying? Your voice is fading. You’re scanning the room. But you can’t find me.

#poetry #amateur poetry

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