Dull gold light From my expensive looking lamp Looking down at my unshaven face My bad skin in the mirror A reality check Mayer in the background My calluses have faded probably with all hopes of playing

Pink flesh was peaking out, a flower almost. From its nucleus rose broken bones. Thrashed like an airplane crashed, slowly dying in dark, his mouth full of his own penis-blood. The girl across him illuminated

The Geno-Earth has been deactivated. Now it's raining melted silicon. The programmed silicon sheet that cloaked our city and produced the sky-view of New York. We thought we were New York. For the first

I sleep With open arms Sometimes the birds I whistle to In the afternoon They come To take me Here we fly In the night In the sky of Fields of war Where we fought Where we died Here we fly In the night

Calming like moonlight on sweat sheen Fingers godlike on my threads Ink jumping Off you On me This, love, is... Breaths, flared and sulfered A daydream? Measurement's in process Rose breeze can't fight

For years I walked with disgust, My eyes oozed the pus of the dead ants that died when I closed them the last night Now the relatives of the dead still crawling My ears itched inside where my nails did't

Late in nights, lately, I feel being late for what seems to be the past, But I ran so fast for it Wanted to grab it, and hold it And kiss for endless time Not the past that I thought would be the future,

You and I, Two sets of myopic eyes Straining to see into the distance You and I, twin souls With two hearts in perfect rhythm As we die trying to describe To each other, beauty that's indescribable While

We all are jumping, Dust smoke has reached our chests, and, now, I know how a sculptured fish feels in a wild wave. I'm swooning like everyone is here, though I'm not reeking of a mixture of expensive

Long since I had this Frozen tear jamming the duct in the back of my eye, And I thought I forgot I forgot, how to cry. Then You invited yourself in, Planted ash-bitter lips on mine And lied you don't know

Will I care much about, The marks of daggered teeth on your skin, Will I only find Salty Sadness While kissing your tears-wet Red-twins Would it be harder, To get my hands sewn with yours, Your embroidered

I miss the way your voice changed, Gently rising & falling when you spoke When you punched me with your lips, Nibbling teeth poked Wiggling nose against nose, interlaced fingers, We seemed like a single

Late in nights, lately, I feel being late for what seems to be the past, But I ran so fast for it Wanted to grab it, and hold it And kiss for endless time Not the past that I thought would be the future,

In the days when I feel blue, violet, every colour under the sun But the ones I want to feel When the lover’s touch Feels like a wet, shrunken sock When his very words Embrace me like cold metal fetters

Made this a while ago. Love sketching eyes.

Yes I live among the Faithless So I have to hear the Overworking temple bell So many hands shaken by Failure to acquire things Have played it and bowed To what They do not believe Is Before I close my

Made this doodle to calm my mind down. It sure as hell worked!

A rough sketch I made during my office hours when my love was angry with me. This Sketch helped me to appease her. Art can be so helping. :p!

A lot of people (new to poetry mostly or a real poet after getting high or drunk) may once or twice ask this question: "Who is a poet?" and "What's a poem, truly?" My 10 year old cousin

I love drawings eyes. They express so much. One look and a connection bubbles inside of the observer. True window of the soul, indeed.