Satisfaction

Was it you?

Was it you?

The one I needed?

The one I wanted?

The one I….

The dying moments of our love

Of this escapade

This poetry

That we created

This music

That we shouted

This writing

That we painted

Those dying moments

Showed me and you

Us…

Us…

The discarded petals

Of a fallen flower

The wasted drops

Of a vintage liquor

The trashed floor

Of a forgotten temple

It showed me

Showed us

Why were wrong

Why this was wrong

You were not my need

But a luxury

Not a desire

But a dream

For the moment I loved you

Was the moment my love died

And I stand here satisfied

But hollow on the inside.

Life Curve

Every man knows. 

What he is capable of, what he is worth, what he would end up as, when he would die....

Some could be ignorant about it, other entirely ambiguous, but most are clear. As clear as the sky after rains, as clear as the ocean without a breeze, as clear as the forest after men are through...

I am one of those.

My body is no temple, it is no pious sanctuary. A God resides in it, yet my vessel is a crumbling submarine. 

The curve of my life, has been worse than an ECG chart, up down down down down flutter up down down.....

I have always believed life is entirely a learning curve, a course to experience, to try, to acquire as much as you can in your puny brain. And not just knowledge, not just ideas, but memories, thoughts, impressions. 

I have felt more than my share I fear, experienced hell and heaven, tasted more sorrow and joy than most others combined, all this and still in my mid 20s. 

Now, I realize that I have sped up my life chart. The experiences are not only milestones but accelerators. The more you go through, the faster you want to go, the quicker you're through. 

Would I be disappointed? Should I be? Have I been the greedy kid who slurps up his ice cream at one go and then eyes the others around him hungrily...? Have I robbed myself of the most luxurious of amenities available to humanity, the luxury of time?

My narcissism, my arrogance, denies. Nothing can reduce my stature. Nothing can diminish my existence. Or is it the other way around? Is it my arrogance and narcissism that has forced me to take this path of thought, a hypothetical presumption to answer future failures?

I cannot answer. 

I will not answer.

But I will tell you this...

If I live, I will rule

If I don't, I will die.

Seduction

Tip toes she does, into my abode

Stepping in delicately, sans any rush

A single glide, through the silk

Now she stands, portraying on the drapes

A figure of beauty, essence of ecstasy

A source of radiance, image of poetry

Stringing on her lightly, a delicate thread of temptation

Her loose gown, flows down menacingly

Concealing little, yet hides it all

The cloak of a mistress, the bodice of a lover

A sight of pleasure, taste of desire

A fountain of sparkle, noise of Angels

Closer she steps, each one a glided performance

Enthralling me for eternity, scintillating each moment

Like a petal falling from a Rose, whisking in the air

Her locks wave behind her, dancing to a tune

A signature of perfection, moment of elation

A writing of romance, painting of summer

Crouched on my bed, a look of seduction defines her

She teases me sensuously, taking me further

And then throws me back, more with pleasure than touch

Now atop me, a devilish smile appears

A statue of creation, light of Creator

A ray of winter, touch of fear

Dancing on her lips, a sparkle on the red

Something on those curves, a secret to be told

They part now to reveal, intentions that are cruel

As one hand covers my eyes, blinding me from vision.

It rises onto the skies

Falls deep into hell

Lingers on the surface a lot

And then again it rises

(Or does it fall once more)

Only to stop midway

Somewhere between the skies and earth

Where no good can ever may

Floating above the depths

Shrieking amidst the grey

A thunder of loudness bolts

And stops before you can face

And again it begins the ascent

(Or is it a decline, Oh pray)

To only fall back 

Somewhere in the interlude

Lost in the hush of surround

Only to begin a whisper

And soon into a sound

Like a baby it grows

Evolving into this mammal

As it guides it successor to pinnacles

It never could surmount

But you do not know that

You may never guess

For a symphony contains a million shouts

But only one that gets the applause.