The Need

Craving your airy essence
In the stillness of last night
I lavished six squirts
Of your fancy, fresh fragrance
Onto the soft, virgin pillow
On your vacant side of the bed
I drifted to the verge
Of where you’ve lain luscious before
And savoured six senses
Of your virtual body and soul

[P.S. Last night, an old feeling I'd not felt in ages, overwhelmed me, and would not let me sleep. A poem in me, inspired by strong emotion, wanted out. This is what I got. I really liked writing it, and I hope the person I wrote it for would relish it just as much].

Random Questions

Should the AIG bonuses be paid?
Isn't Ravalomanana Ratsiraka replayed?
Can Pope Benedict heal Cameroon?
Will Zadari his wife's name ruin?

A Song for You

it’s your smile,
your smile,
your open, flirty, strawberry smile,
threatening to sweep me off my feet.

it’s your ways,
your ways,
your easygoing, waltzing ways,
almost bringing down my walls.

it’s your eyes,
your eyes,
your pretty, playful, island eyes,
lighting a hot flame in my heart.

it’s you,
just you,
all that i see in you,
that makes me dream and hope.

Impulse

i’ve read somewhere,
in great shakespeare,
about the firstlings
of the mind
being the firstlings
of the heart. i find,
generally, in that rule,
the heat and impulse of a fool.
but if you nurse a rivalry,
then, i guess the scheme is wise,
to kick the balls of chivalry,
and take the good playwright’s advice.

Standing Again

It’s not been easy
It’s been hell
Raw emotions and the elements
You take me through
The fiery furnaces at the corners
The lava, gases and the deep-burning geyser
The rocks that support life
Cutting flesh wounds into me
Fills them with chippings and rare rock dust
Bits of me dry up
On the jagged edges
I’m plunged deep into
Black waveless water
Fish and sailors are long extinct
The water has turned into something
That will melt
I’m flung out and hurtled to the sky
To burn in the scorching sun
To be pecked by hungry birds
My skin is stretched over my bones
Tight like a banjo string
A spiraling black hole
Swallows me whole
It has no bottom or tangible walls
In shock my nerves feel like
Snakes inside me
If only they’d bite, my pain would stop
But I go on and on
The elements happened to me
And all emotions too
In just five seconds
The ground moved once and
I, will never stand again.

Pain and Breeze

Life is pain and little breeze
All deserve more than they get
Yet living’s beyond regret
Problem doors will all have keys
Happiness won’t come with ease

Being at peace with yourself
A conscience free from dark design
Is the elusive underline
The vain-vaunted fame and pelf
Can’t coax happiness off a shelf.

Secret Santa, Give Me a Pair of Socks!

Secret Santa:
Shoestring budget of 10 bucks (you said!)
You got your friend a pair of blue socks with sick grey stripes.
He moaned “I don’t get interesting presents anymore!”
You called his family and ‘curioused’ what he would like.
“Something artistic and unusual”, they hinted.
You found the task of looking way too difficult.
And having no sense of art in you...
So you got him a bum-boring gift.
He still wears them for an excuse to be rude.