puresmiles

Pitch dark, alone, silent, Slowly he creeps in my room, But wanders here and there, Unwilling to get into form, An itch in my mind, A lustrous desire to take him in, And enjoy wonderful pleasures, But he refuses. He was strong in my heart, Shapeless, yet refusing form, He moves weirdly, Making me restless with pain, Time passes by, Threatens to leave me alone, My plea is heard finally, Promises to stay. Eyes closed wait for him, Peaceful mind clear of thoughts, Slowly yet forcefully he gets in, Mind completely rejuvenated, I take him in fully, To create a beautiful creature, Few minutes of pain and pleasure, To form a complete creation. After endless pleasure, Beads of sweat, Trails down my forehead, My paper complete, End of a creation, Ready for my readers…

Born as male, yet living as female, A curse to the gender, Heavily loaded with make-up and lipstick, Adorned with dazzling attire, When we walk on roads, The wave of crowd move away, Like the red sea parting for the Israelites, They call us THE THIRD GENDER. God’s creation, no sin of ours, Epics talk loud of us, Loyal followers of Lord Rama, Legend behind winning the Kurukshetra, Trustworthy servants of the Chinese emperors, Alexander the great’s best desire, Blessed we are on festival days, Yet deprived of all human rights. For hunger, we remain platters to men’s pleasure, Begging by force is not uncustomary, For none are even trusted as servants, Thrown away not even equal to dust, Tattered by the inhuman attitude, Not even the least respect given to us, None to understand, We crumble down in humiliation. Unfortunate of us, If it be God, an embodiment of man and women, Human race kneel down to pray for health, But for us the treatment is less, Begging or selling ourselves for food, N

Way back your memory, Down the lane of your thoughts, Deep down everyone’s heart, Lay the sweetest memories Your first day at school, With tears rolling down your cheek, Holding mom’s hand tight never to let it, The first kindergarten teacher, Rhymes that you learnt, Happiness on your mother’s face listening to you. Your first friend at school, The sweets that you shared with her, Your first fight with her, The little rhymes that you both recited, Little wounds after a great game, The cute wink after a naughty act. The monkey fights with your sibling, Little secrets shared without mom’s knowledge, Eating the shared toffee like puppies, Walking to school holding hands, Signing each other’s progress cards, Little things a foundation for a strong bond. The first guy that you admire, A naughty wink from a teenager, First kiss in your dream, Self-admiring in the mirror not knowing passage of time, Dreamy days with thoughts of a dream boy, Occasional un-rhyming so-called poems, now just a f

An old, rusted, van, Moving as slow as it can, In a fast, speedy, busy road. Frustrated by the speed, I overtake them to see, A load of crying hearts in it. Filled with old men and women, The van was from an old age home, A banner displayed “Ever happy old age home” For a minute my mind wondered, Slowed down my bike to hear their talks, Just to understand the ironic banner. A lady by the window, her locks displaying her age, With tears rolling down her cheeks, Jeering to see a happy family traveling in a car. Another gentleman dressed well for his age, Says “my son in US, leaving me here, gives lot of money” A tear in the corner of his eyes longing for his dear ones. A couple sitting next to the driver spoke, “Ah! That little boy should be our grandson’s age” And both sigh together with memories. Why didn’t those ruthless sons and daughters think? At least for a minute, all that these old people had done, For them to be doctors, businessmen, and software engineers. They can give them l

Like the buzzing of a bee, Just next to my ear, Like an old ceiling fan, Right above my head, Like a lover-boy speaking in a cell phone, Just next to my seat, Like a loud horn in a bus, Right in the front row, Like a talkative friend, Just next to you in at the cinema, Like a loud mouthed boss, Right before you a pain everywhere, Like the ring tone of a cell phone, Just when you break your head with a code, Like the hush of a cloud, Right when you admire the moon’s its beauty, Like the tone of a little love fight, Just when he is late for dinner, My love for you, Is it an in-healable wound? No I call it a sweet disturbance, A never-ending pleasurable PAIN…

When you are near me, The Sun shines bright and the tweety sings sweet, Roses smell good and frogs look princely, Your magnetic smile drags me to you, Warm are your hugs with love, I see the color of joy Yellow. Hand in hand, The waves kissing our feet, Your gentle hand on my shoulder, Breeze of sweet sea, Little crabs running hither thither, I see then color warmth azure blue. Soft you are many a times, But I admire thine manliness, Gently forcing me to a slave of pleasure, Kisses forceful but pleasurable, Wild with ecstasy when you hear mine moan, I see the color of Love Red. Dark nights starry sky with a shinny moon, Waiting for your lustrous hugs, All alone admiring the moon as you, Chill breeze frozen memories, A long wait for your warm hands, I see the color of sorrow black. Fresh smell of the mud before rain, Little drops of rain on us, A speeding bike a joyous ride, Tight hug with no way for air, Rosy talks and sweet trees to dance, I see the color of earth green. Little nymphs