I have ocean currents in the pit of my stomach.
Swirling till I feel my head spin.
Forwarding the speed of sun so days and nights pass flashing by,
I sit beside my choicest window waiting for the time to die.
World is unjust and incoherent,
A place where people of faith
Credit with veracity, the state
Of Being moral and independent;
Yet they inculpate the accrues
Of different men and tribades,
Who struggle to stick to their
Proclivities of natural virtues.
Everyday of my life
I thank God for what I am grateful for
With all the challenges thrown at you
Battles become your core.
Let me touch you one last time
Touch you while I can
While my body is still warm
While my love for you still beats in my heart
We invite anybody who queerly wants to talk poetry - to come and share their stories with us. With each new word, let's walk through this life: chin up, spirits high, feet facing forward.
Remember our rhapsodic times of love,
When we really knew each other?
Our infantile moments of Bonheur,
The day when you held my hands
And told me with all your charm,
“Let’s fly together, my dove.”
I remember those eyes of small girl,
who looks perplexed,
when people laugh, ridicule, whisper, point and say
"Look, she is different, she is wearing boys clothes"
When I bend my head,
look at myself, I see just clothes!
My deepest thoughts and strongest desires
My heartfelt wishes and passionate fires
Come in and sit down, feel welcome and stay
I’m not complaining of a heartache today.
Last year, it witnessed a beautiful fall
White and yellow roses - blossomed tall
Long tailed slender blue birds flocked it all
Is he a boy or a girl.
A half woman, not man enough.
She is faking it, he is not for real
They is not themselves.
All my life I wrote about boys
But I looked at girls a certain way
Boys, I dated, yes, I did
But only girls managed to take my breath away
I really like you and miss you. Randomly. For no reason at all.
But this you will never hear.
The closet is a dark place.
But it has the safety of anonymity.
Once upon a time you carried your heart on a sleeve
And now, the sleeve is shorter.
Thousand AKSHAYs just cut their wrists
Fearing what their parents would say,
A hundred JAIs inhaled gas from a burning stove
Humiliated by those ‘Oh-So-Dear’ relatives,
But, don’t you worry!
They were just a part of that “miniscule minority”.
I wrote this at a time when I could only turn to the internet while I was coming to terms with my sexuality.
Hey there! I’m calling out to you
Dark skinned and lean and a slight beard too.
The Solidarity Song highlights not only the uniqueness of this country and the pride we feel, but also the challenges that lie ahead.
Turn bed sheets into balls and traces the point from where the streetlight falls gently on his chest.