Cheers, Darling

he sings
You know the room is spinning
Because he has a glass of wine
in his hands

you know he’s too drunk
The kind of lingering music that surrounds your ears

He smokes a pack of cigarettes
burning his eyes
In the box he calls room
Eating out of a can

To forget
You were even there

How?
How did a person break another person?
In a way that love could not fix treachery?

in a way that he says your name in his sleep,
While i ease the nightmares away

I talk to myself
To assure my own existence

Because around him,
I am only surrounded by the ghosts of his past

Icy, unmoving stares
And stoic movements
We define dystopia in this apartment.

To Antoine

And in the broken desert,
Malfunctioned airplane,
I made a friend

He began to say, I have a fox friend…
Friends dont matter-
I am dying, I exasperate.
‘It is a good thing to have a friend,
Even if one is dying’
And I stood stunned,
Baffled,
In silence.

His rose had tamed him,
The haughty rose who was devoid of humility
But the rose was his
and he belonged to the rose
And that was all there is.
In another planet-
He looked at the thousand roses
Sticking out in abundance
They were beautiful
But he called them hollow
Nobody would cry for them.
And then he sat in the grass and cried
In memory of his singular rose
That he valiantly protected on his planet

Where do the people go,
He asked the Railway Master.
Not even the locomotive knows.
They are pursuing nothing at all.
Never satisfied where they are,
The wind blows them away.
They sway, the flower said
Devoid of roots.
They don’t want to stay.

Only the children know what they are looking for,
Wide eyes, and flattened noses
Against Window panes-
Looking out.
They take a rag doll
And it becomes important to them.
It is only with the heart one can truly see,
Truth is invisible to the eye.

I came with a broken airplane,
With my supply of water dwindling,
But I knew that my friend meant more to me than my life
When he said,
Let me go by myself
Here it is.
Leaving me only with a galaxy of stars
That tinkled like bells.

(This is my tribute to one of the most beautiful authors’ most beautiful work that changed me in so many ways. Le petit prince by Antoine de saint-Exupéry. This poem may do hardly any justice to the poetical and highly intellectual and imaginative prose.
But with broken efforts and meek attempts, I try)

Withdrawal Symptoms

Turn off the lamps
And sip the darkness,
Because the sun comes
Eventually
And exposes the scars on your back.

And no matter how hard you try to cover them,
Like an x-ray
He sees through you.

And before you can kiss him on the cheek
And whisper ‘stay’ into the depths of his mind
Amidst the folds of his skin
He is gone
Leaving, in a way that
Erases his existence.

Word

In those cold nights
With the sheets over our heads
Encased in each other
When we muttered to each other
‘i love you’
And felt so brave.
So brave, because we were committing
An act of such magnificence
Only warriors in the field could be likened to us.

But since then
I have realized
That love is just a four lettered word
A mere jumble of syllables

Because love resides
Not in the speaking of it
But in the silence that comes after the storm.