Tag Archives: poetry

Press Brakes of a Naked Fan

A shirt and a naked fan


A cage-less fan
that could cut the sound of random words

I wanted to put it in between us
whenever we had conversations on
the probability of elongated longing
or incomplete transitions

But a lot of times
it just waved the wetness away

A (dot)


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She sniffed my collar bones/Upon further investigation

(Disclaimer: Two poets..over a cup of coffee..threw words at each other..some squinting it took..result..Two freshly baked poems)
(Words given to make a poem:
Cake, brown, clink, bloat, pounding, parade, investigation, bloody, nipple, itch, social, carpet, hugs, cheeky, fog, albumin, hood)


—–Upon further investigation—–

There was a clue found
hidden deep within
the smudgy gooey brown cake
recently devoured at a social gathering
where hugs and wine flowed in rivers of giggles
until a cheeky man revealed
from under his fashion street hood
a horrendous sight
an albuminy
bloaty, itchy
pounding with pulses of pleasure
after which the revelers disappeared in to the fog
the kind that descends like a cloak of embarrassment
the rest, was brushed under the carpet
of course it was a great success.



—–She sniffed my collar bones—–

and investigated my flimsy hug
she sensed an itch stitched on my albumin-chest
and our jaws clinked when she tried to
brush the dust off my nose

I swallowed a breath and puked
some dozens of fog-webs

she offered me a piece of
her nipple-shaped cake

she was nice enough to pound
for me
on her brown carpet
but I would have preferred a parapet

A social gesture that was
made her carpet bloat a little
and a parade of red ants
got dismantled & disheartened

my cheeky faith
lost its faith in womanhood that night



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On the morning of 31st May 1917

All your blind lovers
with their antiseptic talks
and their photogenic gawks
came to fight with me
when I was brushing my teeth

I severed their limbs with a wet white feather
..ohh god, those guys had strawberry shake in their veins

Their stapled noses talked about your
hair smell of burnt jute bags

Incarcerated for infinity in your love asylum
their fossil eyes shrinked and expanded
and blinked at 1:1000 shutter speed

All their color corrected dreams
turned into Edward Gorey’s unfinished illustrations
All their disturbed kinky poems about you
evaporated from those torn pages

I arm-wrestled with their coughs
ukhhoo ukhoooo ukhoooooo

and that was that!!


A (dot)



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I needed more of reasoning

I became him

I needed less of deceit

I became that

I needed fake flamboyance

I became this

I needed stale stimulation

I became them

I needed magnetic deception

I became her


I became him

I became that

I became them

I became her

to stir up my connived imagination that was suffocating

I became those

sabotaged stolen thoughts of disinfected prophets

I became thump

and wrote bad prose with melting ice

I became trash

and left mumps in their moral throats.



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