One Night Stand

He quietly looked around
Darkness stilled
The gentle rustle,
A soft whisper
The wind
As it softly whistled,
Fueling the desire in his
Heart...

He stood and gazed,
Woods all around
A solitary haven,
No soul to disturb,
No soul to hear
Just unquenched desire
Law raw, hands
Trembling...

A sudden glint
Flash of eyes
Lust gathered his
Tormented mind,
Wish to own,
Wish to touch
Softly treading ahead,
Footprints...

Just a crack
To break the dawn
thirst un-quenched
Blood-shot eyes,
Shout of joy
Beautiful yellow
As he caressed,
She lay there stiff and
Cold...

They all came
Loud fanfare,
"Save her. Save her!"
They medal they carried,
Her limp body,
A stuffed toy now
Gracing the museums
The generations call her
'Tiger'...

The Eyes

She sat and looked
The child went
running past
Flying down the stairs
A step skipped
Crash... Bang...
A bucketful of tears
She sat and looked...


She sat and looked
The honeymooners back home
baggage shed
Taps running, the cooker whistle
Potatoes fried
Sizzle... Ouch...
The tiffin all packed
She sat and looked...


She sat and looked
The party on
in full swing
Candles lit, claps resound
Slices shared
Ripp... Crunch...
Piles of gifts sorted
She sat and looked...


She sat and looked
Houses built
and buildings grazed
As generations came and went
Blink... Blink...
Head once cocked aside
She sat and looked...

Is It Something?

Is it saying something
That when my child says 'Arms'
I see guns and missiles
Crossing my crazed mind?

Is it saying something
That the sign 'Keep Off The Grass'
Reminds me of dark nights
And heights of unadulterated Ecstasy?

Is it saying something
That an 'Apple' on the street
Is not the luscious fruit
But music blaring my ears?

Is it saying something
As I look around
I know not what to think...
And yet I speak. And yet we speak.

The Conf Room

They sat around the table

Brains running round and round,

Words flowing, synonyms lost,

As debates raged on and on...

Pages laid waste,

Ink almost running dry

No cellphones blared

And laptops almost died...

The desk groaned

Chairs squeaked and squirmed,

Windows fluttered

Lights almost shutting off...

Scribbles and Sketches,

Stories and poems formed,

The company slept on and on

As here an artist was born..