Will a time-machine help,
Shokie wondered,
Was the past better?
Should #time go in reverse,
End in a singularity?
Wham Bam, thank ya saar!
One day without an incel
In the cell stinking of acid/blood?
Is limerence a vibe?
O let go with a peg,
& a tweet with such crap.
#vss365
I have been losing
Memory I never had
That’s not a riddle
Not even contrary to popular opinion
It’s the dark matter
Of all that we are
Love is built on such
Hate too probably faith definitely
How we like to think we live with what we know
How we assume and borrow to cope
I wanted to write something
deep
or honest
or worth your time
But
it is Sunday morning
when I think
about
why I asked
Will you marry me
or why I did not say
I love you
Ah
They
won’t be thinking
about
that
this Sunday morning
or
any other day.
Discovered dating too late,
With action & words out of sync
As in a badly dubbed movie.
She asked for #wine and salad,
I chose double choc ice-cream soda
Before parotta and beef double fried.
She wanted mine,
Avoid hints and amore
Before parotta and beef double fried.
#NAlove
"Insp. Shokie, the kids (and I) would like to know if you ever get time for poetry."
"Have you watched your love's execution?
When it's time to #cave in for that deed,
The scene's never pretty, never stink free,
It's you who will live the eternal death."
"Insp., kids!"
#vss365
"Who killed him, Insp.?"
Shokie closed the diary of the dead man.
"His writing. This 'diary' is a story in reverse narrative. He knew she wouldn't read it right and skip the epigraph too:
Words be Death's fave #Muse.
Infidelity one way,
And love in reverse."
#vss365
I talk too much
When I should be silent,
I laugh too much
When I should be crying,
I joke when I should be serious,
I tease when I should not,
I remember the day you cried
(not because of me)
In our shared public space,
And all I had to say was,
"Do you know what others will think
if they caught us like this?"
It made you laugh.
Is that when I fell in love with you?
I guess not.
The day I feared has come,
When you ask,
"Tell me about you and Ma."
If you were a son,
I would try,
"Don't be stupid"
Or
Senseless empty verse
With admirable phrases
And great vocabulary.
He wouldn't buy that
But that's the way
With fathers and sons.
Not with you,
my dear girl,
Image of our love
And my darker self.
You won't say it
But your look says,
"Seasons are just
Six-letter words.
As for four-letter ones,
Fu*k, su*k, li*k and lu*k
Are better than love.
Tell me what it was."
Too old to have hope,
Too young to forget:
Walking arm-in-arm
Feeling self-conscious,
In aloof embrace,
The impotence killed,
Loneliness I chose;
With her, crowds vanished,
Always on passion's #crest,
Trust, desire, safe risk,
I know not, till then
No false company.
#vss365
Why do gods come here
To deal with the likes of us,
To be forgotten?
Why do heroes fight
To send millions to their graves,
To be remembered?
Why do we support,
That selective pick and choose,
To discard many?
Why do we not stop
The repeat of history,
For resurrection?
When a common man
Can afford
A hit on another:
(10 for broken bones,
20 for hospitalization,
50 for 10 hacks,
75 for daytime public kill,
100 for 2, special discount)
They say,
"It's the Golden Age."
Or
"Everything Is Ok now."
Last weekend,
I tried a party--
In gruesome reality,
Not happy virtuality.
For a while,
I was fine--
Mostly silent,
A dumb charade,
With mental (dis)likes;
Forced to speak,
I tried emojis
With subtitles.
In writer-reader mode,
I saw Shokie frowning,
Where's the murder/story;
Cut the scenes
Leading nowhere,
Chekhov whispered;
How about poetry,
A la Gerontion or Wilfred Owen
In a trench full of grey guys.
I went through
A trashcan of memories
To get through the night.
I must have endured
Parties with guys,
Alas! Without a byte stored;
This lot was decent,
Friendship is tiring,
Scars of worse still itch;
The absence of women,
Is that why I searched
For the logout button;
But then, with those
The promise of tomorrow
Is the impossible requisite.
Don't you laugh, my love,
I don't need your clone,
How well I cope without you.
