I gave you more than I own

You are my glow in the gloom

 

i

I sat on the edge of the world,
folded my wrinkled soul in
your favorite shape and
gave it to you.

you tore it into a multitude of pieces
of confetti that I decided would fill
polka dotted helium balloons on
our wedding day.

I gave you more than I own.

 
ii

I robbed all your sorrows and
gave you enough love that
could drown this world twice over.

you were too busy with your
relationship with destiny while
my dreams dissolved in you.

can’t you see I have nothing to lose
and only your love to win ?

 
iii

lightning froze through my
cracked veins when December
was colder than your heart;

your voice curled around me
like fragrant French wine but
you buried me in your lies and
reasons even when my share on
this earth was still unknown.

but still, everything about you spelled elegance.

still does.

 

Rajesh Jethwani

[Rajesh is a resident of Madras (more than Chennai), and chooses to omit the fact that he’s an entrepreneur. His poems have been published in 3 anthologies both in India and overseas. He enjoys reading works of Rumi and Pablo Neruda. He loves drinking tea, trekking the mountains and listening to Bollywood classics. His dreams include summiting high altitude peaks, writing songs for Bryan Adams and publishing his own poetry book some day.]

New Leaf

I just woke up from the worst dream of my life
and the love of my life wasn’t by my side
I was crushed, hollow and left alone
slapped by the time and kicked by my own vibe

I wanted to give her everything that she needs
and even wanted to do all the good deeds
I messed up everything and we broke up
She died inside after and I shook up

I did everything I could to not see her again
I just didn’t tell her that I also feel intense pain
Today after four months I had the courage
to call her and pour out my heart’s rage
I cried my heart out and burst in tears
everything will be fine is all I could hear

I explained that I was on too much of drugs
mdma made me a total mind fuck
you were my strength, you were my fear
everything will be fine was all I could hear

I know that it wasn’t your mistake, it’s all mine
and everything is gonna be alright
but where do I find that girl who loved me
“you killed her Harry” now I’m free.

She said money is what I run after and work all day
this is what you taught me when we broke up in may
you were too busy with your hangout chats
trying to hangout with a girl, what’s that?
you didn’t even care when I slept outside the room,
2 am in the snowfall with fresh fucking wounds,
I was homeless in a lonely night chase,
and you said visitors are not allowed at my place,
you’re too much of a psycho for a hot water shower,
I was scared to take a bath, so I gave you the power
I’ve had too much of your bullshit now please leave
didn’t you say, live and let live?

Alright Ammu, you won and I lost,
but running after money is not what I taught,
and that hangout chat is totally misunderstood,
I can write with my blood that it was for good,
and those sleepless nights you spent outside the door
made you my princess and not a whore
I’m sure it was hectic and no apology can fix it,
not even if I wash your feet and drink it,
you should know that I left my family last year
and even fought my brother who was very dear,
I chose the path of a love life with you,
believe it or not but I did it all only for you

About that visitor’s text I’m really sorry,
I didn’t know or see your worry,
I was too high to even figure out what I wrote
and sent you a text which is only a quote
I never had intentions to hurt you or make you feel bad,
but you have so many problems with me that makes me sad,
I’m not perfect and I accept that I was cheap
my brain malfunctioned and I became a creep

I really took my time to figure out what I want in life
it’s not hot water, I want you to be my wife
I’m changing for good and eliminating all my bad,
we should be together like your mom and dad,
I want a simple life and they are my inspiration
we can have Pukku, Pukki and a tattoo workstation

I can’t afford to lose you for my pride
please give me a chance just to be by your side
I did give up my ego, drugs and anger
sometimes I feel like I’m in great danger
but where there is a will there is a way
I really love you and I want you to stay
please give me a hug and everything will be alright
I will be waiting for you till I die ♥️

Naman Arora

[Naman Arora is a professional tattoo artist and piercer based in Goa. Writing and painting are two of his favourite hobbies. Travelling is what makes him complete in life. On Instagram, he’s @travel_inks]

Dear Mom and Dad

Dear Mom and Dad,
one day when it is
all sunny and fine
I will tell you,
that I really love you.
Yes, I do.

One day when you
have some time
to swirl some wine
and dine with me,
I will confess
how much I want to do
what you want me to do

One day when your
verses aren’t that brutal
I will cry before you
not because I am strong or weak
but because it’s been a while
I felt human enough.

One day when
you are not rushing
or running away or after me
I will put my head on your lap
and fall asleep

Because you see, that is the only
fall that has not hugged me
for a while now.

Dear mom and dad,
trust me I am not
that bad,
I maybe an irrational dreamer
a lost soul,
maybe someone who’s not whole
But, I am your child
You told me it will
all be good in a while.

Dear mom and dad
I am alive
please don’t make me feel otherwise.

[This post was submitted to The Poetry of Coming Out anonymously. I’m sure your heart, as mine, goes out to this contributor, wherever in the world, to let him or her know that we are all family, sending strength, love, hugs and loads of peaceful sleep right across!
Shout out to all parents for a self-check.]  

The Poetry of My Coming Out

Mother you hated your choices
I feared I was one of them
So I cursed everything you cursed
My hate was rehearsed

You made me a shield
Instead of the other way
When someone decided to paint
Red blood on the clay

I was just playing a game
But nothing would ever be the same
Brutally bitten, fucked and raped
I was numbed, as he came

The big secret
It was dirty and bad!
How could I, the messiah of my mom
Act like a needy lad

Years, they passed by
They had me tame
Adults busy fighting hoarse
With no real aim

No one wanted to speak
As I hit my teen
My mind went places
I had never been

In my awesome lingerie
I walked the dream ramp
I knew I belonged
In the other camp

Couldn’t bear him anymore
His dick dirtied me
And everything I touched
It seemed to roam free

Performances, and religion
Is what the folks wanted from me
Running far away
To God my plea

And so I did
The past I forbid
But there was more to come
Crazier tunes to hum

Why’s your body so girly?
Why do you walk like a girl
Can you fuck like a man
And their race, I ran

A rocking dude
Who would land a thousand chicks
Fed on steroids
And porno flicks

Didn’t understand
I was so confused
Especially when I pushed myself
To be abused

Soon I shed
Tears of my despair
Festering wounds
Needing some care?

I was looking for love
But I found more
I couldn’t ignore
The girl, locked in a door

One day a man died
An absent dad of mine
The girl broke the door
And felt just fine

No one would let me embrace her
She caused quite a stir
“Dad, Husband, Son
This is surely not done!”

Men, they attracted me
And scared me too
The girl inside me
Only a woman knew

All the gay are gay
Such is today
And so I write this
It doesn’t happen everyday 🙂

Shakti Iyer Singh
[Shakti is a 37-year-old transwoman, a child sexual abuse survivor and also a survivor of emotional abuse at the hands of her mother. Love and therapy have helped her heal. A front-end designer and developer by profession and an aspiring songwriter and composer, she absolutely loves kids!]

Shakti Iyer Singh [top right] with her loved ones

Coming out through the fog

Out through the windows of fog,
No hopeful surprise
Uneventful dreams disturbing the furniture
and bringing it into the holes created by the ever expanding universe.

The danger, is real and present
while Suffocating in the den,
It was made solo and with deep breath.
Is it happening again,
Or is this the substance
of withdrawal from the
structures of dream.

I dream and why not – you are never there.
Do I continue to catch you with an oven-mit
as you wish—
Or to spend my hours
watching,
waiting and
deciding
when to leave—

Trapped inside a glow an orb of dim light—
she awakes—
I still see her eyes look around the room
Confusion sparks much of the disturbance.
I am coming out into the fog
to save my wilderness from drowning
by hands whom
do not—
Will not,
come out into the fields.
To play…

…as we once did.

~

Be with yourself instead
and I will continue to dream
In solace and independent witness—
Streaming tongues trending fashion
A financial vow…
…it was never a convenient way to spend time
Instead, I was hoping,
wondering.
I signed up for more than this
and all I got,
was a changed face
with no resemblance
to the dreaming nights and moments playfully amused and attentive to the touch.
Willfully naked and aware of no other world
It was of an art-filled desirable touch
Those days we laughed and talked widely open armed.
And those nights are now—un-kept—flushed away.
Away from the noise is all I wanted, but instead
You brought me the head of Lucifer
And asked for memory to relapse.

But you are and I cannot reprimand
Or detain—my eyes any
longer.

I am leaving the cell,
The problematic tears that dwell.
What ever was I thinking-
That’s right,
I thought too loudly
and I was underweight—
You did the whole ‘catch and surprise’
And with a warmed tongue I then drank you, from your spell
Only to be poisoned
—from the inside of my dreams,
out through the blackened misery
you brought to my bed.
You desired not more than the wings of dread.
The head of Lucifer you brought
—to my heart
which was
growing.

To the light filled room, I am
Going into the dreams through the fog
With the hue revealing my me, my new
My divorce—is not so cursed.

Jaymz Hawkes
[Jaymz is in his early 40s, living in Melbourne, Australia. He is a man who is not afraid to shine and speak out of turn and use his voice to make a change and turn the page. An artist, a dreamer, a poet and a father, he is doing his bit for the world by working in community health.]

My Crime

The Nightmare

In the pulchritude of Vietnamese summer
The green berets felicitating one another
The joy of defeating the bellicose rival
Is plummeted by the joy of their survival
Back in the corner I stand like a zombie
Wish I was among the dead, an absentee
Suddenly the azure sky turns red with napalm
Stupefied soldiers running for lives in tandem


The same old nightmare has gripped me
Leaving me grasping for breath, sweaty
This tantalizing dream has killed my sleep
Slowly turning me into an uncanny creep

I try to remember what happened that night
The thought was horrifying and so was the sight
The injured captain continued to hold ground
Despite flying bullets and his lethal wound

I tried to convince him of our impending defeat
Standing in front of bullets was madness and no feat
He aimed the gun at me and said ‘You back off and I shoot’
But he was not strong enough to thwart my pursuit

I survived the bullets but not my conscience
I die every moment even in complete sense
I wish I could turn the clock and go back in time
I would have shot myself in penance of my crime.

Tusnin Das
[Tusnin is an engineering graduate from IIT, Kharagpur, with over 17 years of work in IT and information security. A cyber security expert who finds his creativity in poetry, photography and cartooning, he sees beauty in the mundane and everyday moments.]

Becoming more like you

I have become more like you
Guarded, a mystery;
Become scared to know people more
As I discover pain in everybody.
I have become more like you
When I say I don’t want to say.
Between the lips, those words
Never fell out, never gave way.
I have indeed become more like you
When I look at the mirror and
Find a thoughtful me,
Feel the change in me inside out, and
I could become more like you
When I leave somebody
Hanging, in pieces, in vacuum
Like you did. Burning me up with every memory
I wonder why I think of you now
Why this comes so naturally to hate you
Day in and day out
Why I have ended up becoming more like you.
So secretive.

Saira Aslam
[Saira is a journalist-cum-social entrepreneur with over eight years of experience across print, electronic and digital media. She was Press Trust of India’s youngest Principal Copy Editor, a vendor’s Project Manager for Google’s ambitious localisation programme and Assistant Editor at the Centre for Science and Environment. She is passionate about human interest stories, international affairs and politics. Aslam, an NIFT Bengaluru dropout, is the founder of D For Darzi, which aims to help the poor tailoring community of the Indian subcontinent using custom tailoring, and believes in making a difference—small or big—in the lives of people.]