My poet.


You paint me a story with words, 

Poet You have me 
In places and times 
Of your choice.

All I ever did in return,
To build you, 
A kingdom 
From clouds & fairy lights. 
But your face of utter wonderment, 
Meant the absolute world 
To me, 
And I came undone.
You rescued me 
The day you met me.
And you’ve been saving me 
Everyday since.
Tempt me not with play , poet.
Don’t be coy and dare to tease
For I shall ravish you nonetheless,  
In ways 
Not even your books could describe.
I can’t tell you things that have no words 
And yet those wretched little things 
Drive me insane 
Uncurling in my heart 
Making me breathless 
With the many things I can’t say. 
After a single kiss I knew 
I’d spend my life trying to 
Fit the right words around you.
You, almost escaped description. 
And then I found a way 
To tell it all in tales
Without the limitations
Of words.
In a room, 
Too small, 
Where we both belong. 
Making the kind of memories 
Worth writing songs about.
Telling each other stories 
Over smoke, 
And some kind of liquor. 
I found it.
I found you.



to women.


you’ll never see me frown

because what use have i of anger?
nothing brings me down
that is  how i inspire.
i know that,

I am no conventional beauty
i might not be pretty
or built to fit a size zero
but a mere woman
of all your pretenses
your ego
i am fragile
i am lethal
i am beautiful
i am a woman
you’ll notice it in the stretch of my arms
as i reach for the lighter
its in the curve of my lips hugging the cigarette
you’ll hear it in the music of my sigh
and the rush of my blood
i am a woman
its in the sway of my hips
the harmony of my moves
as i walk into a room
with a step and a breeze
its in the fury of my eyes
my soft silky skin
the lift of my nose
and the bulk of my thighs
its the hypnotizing bite of my teeth
on the full of my lips
yes its the swing in my step
and the wonder of my touch
its in the mere stretch of my height
my ever curvy back
and the mountain rise of my chest
i am a woman
its in the femininity of my existence
and the rough edges of my mind
in the kindness of my fingertips
and the mercy of my heart
in my contradictions
yes i am sublime
i am a woman
its in the cool breeze of my stride
in the dance of my hair
in the sweet nectar of my breath
and the way i seem to float on air
i am a woman
the brightness of me
and body
is what you probably see
yes i am that girl
that never bows her head
i am that creature
that elusive confusing thing
i am a woman
and it seems
god made it so that
my beauty
it lives deeper than any makeup can paint
i walk like the canvas on the wall
with pride of the painting it holds
that seems to baffle us all
so lift your head up like me
we women
what magnificent creatures are we.

for a minute, she was my muse.


It was dawn when it happened

I was taking a walk and then she appeared like a goddess.

The only light on her face was the red mist from the smoke she was having .

In the very heart of the blackest night.

At a the corner of 5th and something.

I swear it was like she manifested from the graffiti on the wall.

There were highlights of orange, red and blue on her features.

I was entranced.

It hit me like a wave.

Something I’d experienced a million times before but in a new-found intensity.

I was floating with the colors of her face.

Flying in a sea of words that meant nothing and everything.

When something within me stirred.

There I was, tossing words,

hoping to  god they were never to be heard.

She never stopped walking, my angel in colors

I never got to see the true face of my  minute muse.

Everything about her inspired me.

Everything about her baffled me.

I closed my eyes for a second.

She was gone.

I kept staring at the graffiti on the wall



For another glimpse.

She always appeared though,

At least in my head,

In a sea of rainbows.

Protected from all this mundane gray.

At least for that, I should be thankful,

 At least ..

She reminded me

I could still be inspired.