chaiNboli

Jupiter peels an orange for Pluto when hailstorms were trying  to read their love letters  in backward fashion. The alphabets reminded them  of leaf stalks without flowers,  so they dropped them on the floor  as a punishment for  the smoothness they had. A boy with anecdotes in his head  found them funny,  like the soggy laugh of a bullet  mocking the birds that can fly,  but can't hurt. Like the cheap fairytale mothers cook  for hungry children whose legs were  left inside God's wardrobe. So he took them to polish  the shoes of a dictator  with stone knuckles and marble heart  hoping for a bed made up of green skin  of an extinct reptile with  dotted marks of sorrow on it. He wanted to gift it to his lover who, for the lack of metaphors,  couldn't once describe  what heart break feels like. Her vanity mirror was better educated  to know that ice-cream can  also be i-scream,  lo...

A helium filled sorrow residing  in a balled up love letters, equals love for the smoothness of  a mole in your collarbone. You carry the memory of my eyes  every where you move, you say. I unfold your cuffs while you confess to have dreamnt of a bougainvillea baby with my smiles and your smile. This is the point I am supposed to blush. Your heart hums a paper boy's song. Joy grunts your throat then. Like the memory of a sea  inside a dead fish's fins. Like the coldness of a weapon  again warmness of helplessness. May be that's why you burnt rainbows  to pieces of charcoal  and decided to clean  your teeth with it. May be that's why you decided  to push the limbless world  into wave traffic and apologise  half heartedly to all your wounds. This is the moment you  turned into a stranger. You slice me to my bones and smoother your edges. You, a shovel intended to kill, not to preserve life inside earth. You, a pear stealer, A whi...

The sacred dictator laughs while the fire pretends to be water. The instinct of hunting  was passed down  to men from the very creator while  october decided to have  it eyelids closed because  it was afraid to catch  the sight of a gun on the floor. The act of violence is hereditary: a sacred biography of god , a common spelling among lovers. For example, The weight of a gentle kiss  crushing the wings of wind. The heaviness of separation breaking metaphors about fish and ocean. The thickness of longing shattering  the song on a sunbird' lips. That is, To speak about love is  to crack one's own skull  for a unique colour, so that it will be easy  to draw a self portrait which no one will want to look once. The equation is supposed to be  love equals blood shed. Not same as the contrast  of a black boot of fisher man  aganist the white belly of a dead fish. Remember the gutting of roses, the tearing of pages the solit...

You have been eating god for a long time,  that now your tongue is a left over prayer. Am a bald baby waiting to be caressed,  to be held and to be called beautiful. Only god can love such flushed things,  I believe and wish to turn you  into a kiss during a cholera outbreak. You teach me "pray"  can also be "prey ". You teach me that  the curve of your lashes  can turn into a labyrinth. I try to grow another heart  out of your quietness. I try to write a poem where  sun  is envious of your light. Your growing absence  mingles with grief. I ask the sky to wear black. My friend asks me where  I see myself in three or five years. I say " in a carbon cycle". Because, You leave like a father,  in silence, in whispers, in cruelty. I wait like a mother, in hope,in love, in softness.

Your lavender gaze of loneliness  gives hope to a malfunctioning star  to open it's mouth for leftover love letters  the rain has forgotten to destroy.  Transparent like a poet's first poem,  you move around,  your silence -a dripping golden ray, your  grief - a bubble of soap floating. I sit inside summer's warm basket,  asking the oceans  why they won't ever dry up,  so that I can have the secret  equated with life. You turn into the sunset whose memory  I am forced to let go into thin air. To love you is, to have a deserts thirst, To be loved back by you is, to have  the line of impossible turned into a circle. To see you leave is to become a child confused to see her home burning  while she was taught that  fire gifts warmth and light . But  To have your eyelash in my heart: I call it a miracle, a talisman, a momento. I keep my faith in a single god,  and call him your name.  Even though his ey...

A semi colon at its simplicity  is an incomplete apology letter. It never touches the yolk of a sun  with extravagant stretches of metaphors. So metaphors decided to replace  the hiccups in the arc of my throat, with a viper's venom in pockets,  that has to be gifted to the  suicide notes between my teeth. When God kissed me in his kitchen  he had found my teeth  a perfect hiding place of luminous sins. He was building a shelf for knives,  to calculate the hardness of a father's heart. Fathers are scientists observing  the silly dance of tiny little frogs  inside glass bottles on full moon days, and appreciate them to be daughters  if they have no words. Daughters with their weight of heart, challenges gravity and sometimes turn themselves into red apples that  no Newton will pay attention to. Apples with their blushed cheeks  take small spaces to sit and grow,  like a mother's happiness  pure like marshmallows. ...

An eclipse with an extra finger A butterfly travelling in an aeroplane  The shock of a stone touching an apple Soiled mouth of an atheist with prayers  Broken sandals in pilgrimage  Bald spot in a cuckoo's song  Poem of a war poet without stanzas  Painted pomegranate near a demolished port Privilege of a sunlight kiss on a boy's skull Sorrow knee dipped in silence Nest of a melancholy sigh Petal of a bougainvillea stuck in a gutter Rest room for widowed hope  Dying wish of a wind  Space between thumbs of star crossed lovers An unpeeled orange getting rotted Hologram collarbone where stars long to be Unwashable stain of a tear A sugar cube ignored by red ants Weaponized anger in rust A misplaced mole among bullet A run away child in distress  A tamarind curse  Napping snail inside borrowed shell Patch of a dream marked by absence  Fracture of a habitual limb Third eyelash of god A blue flame licking it's prey  An ending in magneta - ...