The Storm, The Stranger!!

A thunderstorm, a blazing blitzkrieg
An incessant pour of shower
A lady and a modest freak
Stuck in that shack for hours

Her eyes so hypnotizing as if they said
It’s the thunder which scares me dear
Gazing at her I further read
She wanted me to be near

A stranger yet such a familiar figure
As if I had known her for my life
Known her thrills and known her tears
Known her as my wife

The cold crept in, the dampness prevailed
I could feel my hands go numb
She looked at me, I looked at her
And I knew that the moment had come

Like a leopard so swift and elegantly poised
I approached her as my mate
In proximity with her and her nervous breath
I left the moment to our fate

Fair as a fairy the angel stood
Dressed in red and white
And the million sparkles on her glossed lips
Meant there was going to be no respite

I unbuttoned her scarlet top
As the curves were slowly revealed
White as snow were her breasts so supple
Inviting this freak to feel

The sky lit up and the fire grew strong
As our lips met to discover
The pile of hay was to serve as our bed
Where we could twist and turn forever

The night moved on and so did we
Her giggles inspiring me more
Our skins rubbed on and our aroma’s mingled
As we wriggled on the floor


And the golden pause when she looked at me
The moment had come to a hault
And the killing consent that the woman gave
To begin the final assault

Her legs parted and her head fell back
As she prepared for me to strike
I clutched her hands as I entered her
Two souls had come to unite

The golden pearls of perspiration
Made their way on my forehead
My love, my life, my Juliet said
Make love till I am dead

The climax came and she dug her nails
Deep into my flesh
The adrenaline pump and the painless pain
The invitation to start afresh

We lay there staring at each other
The crackling of the fire
The rain, the storm, the thatched shack
And the “magic” of our desire

- Kanishka

My poetry, my pain!!

Would poetry help to drain the pain
The mockery, which has been made
The divinity that has turned profane
The petals transformed into blade

How far would my writings carry me

Cause reflection never relieves pain
And I am an abode to melancholy
A marble in acid rain

Non-chalantly I have cursed the past
My present is cursing me now
The subtle issues which became so grave
The intricacies of the know how

These hypocrites who broke my trust
Are oblivious to the fact
The bleeding wound and the dust in my eyes
Is still what remains intact

Hillarious it is but painful true
Even my writings have gone vague
The flow has stopped and the pen is dead
What remains is an empty page

The bluffs and poofs which seemed so real
Vanished in thin air
The world seem to have lost conviction
Lost its finesse and flair

My mind saturated and my fingers tired
My eyes now fail to see
The yellow pages and the familiar writings
Of the pain called poetry.

-Kanishka

POISON ME!!

There she sits caressing her hair
The black silk which seems to entice
And for eternity am I ready to stare
Willing to pay any given price

The silhouette which that immortal castes
Even the shadow begins to breathe
For ages should this moment last
Till my patience begins to cede

And even Valentine would melt at the sight
As the pearl sweats down her neck
Leaving a trail it makes its way
Via the valley to her breast

She sits there, redefining curves
The marvel which I beget
Forcing me to sing ballads in her praise
Like Romeo pampered Juliet

She purifies the water when she bathes
Crouched beneath the basin I see
And this mischievous heart should mend its ways
Cause the lady deserves privacy

But who would teach a stubborn heart
The doctrines of decency
For all I know my love is pure
Devoid of sin, of vulgarity

Oops! I folly when I speak of heart
And of love and passion I boast
Alas! I died some years back
And what remains now is my ghost

Yes, I defy the laws of death
Cause how am I supposed to love
Ghosts are meant for wrath to bequeath
To screech in the air above

Yet, it restores eternal peace
The silence of a cave
And all I want is to stare at her
Is that a sin so grave


For who understands the killing grief
Killing to kill a ghost
I cannot touch, I cannot feel
The person I love the most

There she sleeps alone in our bed
A tear trickles down her eyes
Helplessly I stroke her head
But my love doesn’t recognize

Parched are her supple lips
Wrinkled are her cheeks
And again & again she negates to live
For my love is what she seeks

Coward that I am, for I cannot see
My love suffering this sorrow
And a loser returns to his cemetery
To hope for a better tomorrow

And there I go into that decaying carcass
The dampness of the grave
The coffin doesn’t help much either
For a solution is what I crave

There is just one question which I ask
Earnestly I beg before thy
Give me a remedy to end this task
The poison for a ghost to die.

- Kanishka

Black blood!!

For it vanished like smoke
All the feelings that it had invoked
The scattered pearls which lay on the floor
What once was a necklace which I adored

The protagonists have changed over time
I used to live; now I am dying
Wishing that my eyes could deceive me
For what I was, now I crave to be

And the nicotine in my blood which says
That tobacco has now taken her place
And the only difference which now remains
She mutilated me, the cigarette relieves the pain

And with each and every drag that I take
Reminds me of the love so fake
Ramshackled, yet those hinges still creak
My efforts to erase her, prove so weak

Etched in my blood
Is that love so divine
Mixed with alcohol
It still does remind

Those sleepless nights
Those crazy dreams
Those endearing bickers
The ecstatic screams

And the times when we fabricated love
Her eyes closed, her breath fluctuated
In my arms she lay as if she said
For ages my love, have I awaited

For there is no more of her today
What remains now, is an empty bed
And me on the floor, lay hallucinating
With the liquor, ashtray and my beloved cigarette.

- Kanishka

Free Me!!

I want freedom from all these broodings
The painstaking days, the futile moorings
I want freedom from the jealousies and gains
Laughing over others when they are screaming in pain

I want freedom the bondage of trust
The false promises and the love so abrupt
I want freedom from the endless rhetorics
The plagiarized success, the false heroics

I want freedom from this killing competition
Coercing you to work, regardless of recognition
I want freedom from the Darwinian Proposition
Survival of the fittest, indifferent to relations

I want freedom cause I’ve realized
That life jibes at every turn
And for “Gandhi” to exist today is like one
Butcher made a plastic surgeon.

- Kanishka

Brutal World

Should I or should I not
Trust these bastards and bitches
For they are the ones who have incessantly fought
Beyond all loyalty, beyond all the riches

The faithful impression is all a farce
And to my wonder how rapidly it fades
The queen of spades and the king of hearts
The sadistic pleasure for which they crave

And still again to my apathy it seems
I have to survive with these parasites
The castles in air and the volatile dreams
These jokers never fail to provide

And behind my back they talk all dark
Oblivious to my emotions and feelings
Planning how to bite and bark
To provide that pleasure from my wounds and peelings

For all I know that thy need my blood
Use me as a ladder to climb
Morbid parasites that endlessly suck
Only to weaken and leave me behind

Alas! I pity myself when I see

The amount of effect it has cast
The scars and sores of those atrocities
For ages will these long last

Callous, cruel, ruthless world
False and fallacies, is anything true?
And I am but a helpless mortal
Death is more faithful than you.

- Kanishka

The Journey

Insanity is something familiar
Obscure, ambiguous rhetorically unclear
For the mesmerized wanderer to finally nest
That craving to loiter, the irresistible zest

The journey to search remains so bright
The brave against the dark, killing the fright
Abysmal gloom that slowly haunts
The shrill of the wind, the flight of the heron

But the journey still so invigorating and divine
Beyond the demon, beyond the shrine
For there is the fragrance of victory which keeps me on
Inspite the shrill, inspite the heron

For who knows what the end might contain?
A fallacious compensation, a morose gain
Or the truth of life, wisdom beyond bounds
For its not victory but the journey which counts.

-Kanishka
20th January