I hoard memories
The ride in the crowded bus
Holding you not to fall
Wading through the flooded street
On a rainy day
With your stole on head
And our fingers entwined
I hoard memories
For they are divine
On a cosy cushion
The shredded chicken
And a finger-licked feeding
To steal one tiny glance
Her perilous journey all through
I paint all with green
Making them unpassé
Prisoningin in the sanctum of present
I hoard on and on
Marvelling at the enormity of their beauty
©jeyforyou

And when
I sat
To write
My obituary
Lexical pieces
Froze down
Far away
On an
Indefinite smog
Encyclopedia rummaged
Thesauras scanned
Dictionaries searched
My broken fragments
Found no verbs
Voice of my silence
Remained hushed up
©jeyforyou

My summer’s survival and I
Stumbled across
At a busy crossroad
Syllables exchanged
Exclamations ensued
And a hysterical feat of sighs
Dying embers of the eyes
So well met with the swelling young flames
Tanned facade as if got a makeover
Darkness is now sought
For the light miserably misleads
An overriding unease gripps not untightly
An atrocious aftermath
the apocalypse abounds
My summer survival and I
The two strangers not yet well acquainted
©jeyforyou

My inner species inhale my hues
Leaving me a pale moon without
And the rainbow says
“Can I borrow you”?
Where on Earth am I a befit
My words are now divorced
Off all their semantic charges
As the veneer of the tea table
I see in the picture frame
My father stood in
The cracks in the mirror
Now bid adieu
when I settle the parting of my hair
In the recesses of my homestead
I saw the settings evaporating
From the ancient cover of ‘Lord of Flies’
Marvell’s To His Coy Mistress
Houses no more the Humber
All of me
All in me
Now fading into white
A linen woven snow
©jeyforyou

In the cramped patio of his head
Few belligerent comrades run amock
Frenzied screams wrought ears deaf
Now eyes were to hear the rest
A sight so macabre
And the pitied self at war
The rust of hatred
Clogged the humane lens
Reducing men to punchings bags
Hitting
Kicking
Punching
How pulverised my name is
They smell it
With with their ears so deaf
Their myopic eyes in falsified vanity
Sing the praises of dehumanising progress
©jeyforyou

Thoughts hibernate in the tiny castle
Waiting for the fall of spring
Yearning to wear a mask of strangeness
Streaks of peppered unfamiliarity checkered
A new earthly conversation
Painting newly dyed discourses
Of unfractured tumblers half sipped
And a fragrant rain
Wets the sweats
Twin hearts soaking and drying
Pale yellows graduating into deep greens
Let confer love a new lease
©jeyforyou

At the fire’s conspiracy
I dance in my funeral
I dance till I kill
My spiritual death
A living coward into the foreplay
Of retreat and advances
Smoke from the pyre
Whirls and whines
Jolting the evaporating peace
The tectonic shift of my geography
Into this narrow crevice of wide Earth
Soiling my embroidered coffin
Swallows the breath of the embedded threads
©jeyforyou

I am not gonna use the old cliché
That he is world’s best father.
That every dad is. Isn’t it?
He retires from his vigourous life’s feat
And told by the hourly wing of time
“Hang on old man
Just hang on!
This marathon has no finishing line”.
He laughs deliriously
“And who is in this marathon
I’m chasing. I’m chasing something”.
Shocked was the time.
What’s there to chase
At this frail stage
It has been quite a long time
To this conversation between the two
I see that figure of frailty
Still not on the cosy chair
His thoughts scaling Everest
Swimming across the Pacific
They never lull
©jeyforyou

Being an old school
Dating has been a thing bizzare
Like a hydrophobic to cross the English channel
For decade he did save from this fad
Until he met her while kind of parenting
Texts followed
Voice calls overtook
Meeting happened
No dating like thing
Just meeting
Yeah! Just meeting
Very formal
Catch-ups at home
Made things more homely than homes
But no serious dating like thing
Just catch-ups
Yeah! Just catch-ups
He wonders
She must have thought of dates
That the man so fool never let happen
Let me tell you
He’s not so easy to be deciphered
He dates too
Days and nights
Hundreds of miles away from her
He dates her in his mind
He dates her in myriad ways
More romantic than Donne and Marvell could ever write about
The natural sights where he takes her to
Are more natural and sublime than Wordsworthian sketches
He dates
His dating is longer than the accidental sleeps
Of Seven sleepers
He dates her in his mind
His dates are eternal
©jeyforyou

When the pink meets the dark brown
All the shrieks and screams hushed up
Siphoning the solace through each other veins
Flesh being made to feel it’s existence
Increasing the thirst and want
Hospitable thighs allow with due desperation
The dominating toes run through and between
And the silky hair doll turning and twisting
With yelling storm ask for more
The sweat dripping off the cleavage is licked dried
The play until the flood
They play until the drought
©jeyforyou