More - NaPoWriMo2017 #17

More

My Gemini heart

Has always 

Chased the end

Of rainbows.

Firmly sure

There is something

More, 

To life

Than this. 

I'm the patron saint

Of More, Better, Newer. 

Of fresh starts

And greener grass. 

You would think

This poem would be

About loving contentment

In the end. 

Instead, I'm promising

A pot of gold

At the end 

Of the rainbow

There, where

The grass is greener. 

Constant - NaPoWriMo2017 #16

Constant

After, 

12 years,

11 schools

3 universities 

2 countries

You are still the constant 

In my flavoured vodka toasts. 

The only real constant

For a dozen straight years

I have ever known. 

Not even family can bear

That epithet. 

I can't imagine life, 

Without you

And I once said 

I'd prefer to 'survive' nuclear war

All alone then not at all.

It makes sense, finally-

You being older

By 10 days. 

Compulsion - NaPoWriMo2017 #15

Compulsion

Delhi, my first, 

My best love.

Delhi, angry

And burning

And dangerous. 

Delhi, breaking

My heart

If nothing else. 

Pulling me back

Always and forever.

I have given my heart

On four continents

Yet, Delhi, 

The first, the last. 

Delhi; Sheesha, Vodka

And more

Beneath my skin. 

Delhi, compelling

And complete.

When you finally

Crack me open,

Delhi,

I'd want you

To find yourself.

New Year - NaPoWriMo2017 #14

New Year 

One of my favourite memories,

Is being on the Phone

To you,

Making Maggi

Petulantly,

On New Year's Eve. 

Mad, at being home

With nothing exciting to do.

But ringing in

New Years' 

To your teasing voice

Made up for it. 

You won't be 

Celebrating any more

New Years. 

Some part of me 

Still lives in denial

Of that. 

This isn't the first

Poem I wrote 

For you. 

But it is the first

 You won't read. 

Some part of me

Still lives in denial

Of that. 

On Having Potential - NaPoWriMo17 #13

On Having Potential

Having unrealised

Potential 

Is perhaps

The foremost talisman 

Of my life. 

Potential is

The energy in a body

With respect to its position

Not motion. 

Potential is

A coiled spring

A charged battery

(According to Physics). 

Potential is

Something inside

Me, Waiting

To go Kinetic. 

Baby, I'm just starting

To catch fire

And burn, burn, burn. 

Young Love - NaPoWriMo2017 #12

Young Love

Do you remember, 

The violent passions 

Of love at 16?

Even then

I was a cerebral lover, enamoured 

By pretty words

Not pretty faces.

You see, I was

'Authentic'

(Sheer vanity)

It was as shallow 

As falling for a pretty face.

But you know, hollow 

Pretty words

Cut to the quick

Much quicker

When you are 16

And have given 

Yourself with all the words

In your adolescent rushing heart. 

Today, I rather

Fall sedately 

Into pretty eyes -

They hurt much less. 

Quiet - NaPoWriMo2017 #11

Quiet

 There is no quiet 

In me. 

There is no Zen 

In me. 

Instead

There is a deep 

Yearning

Churning

My thoughts 

In foamy waves 

That need Listeners,

Readers, Friends. 

Does a poem exist

With no one to read it?

My poems 

Are made by you

As if my waves 

Found a beach

To crash on. 

There is no quiet 

In me.