Welcome/ Benvenuto/ välkommen/ स्वागत/ Karibuni/

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You are in my guts Shah and I am acting because you are alive... *ILU* ~@LarvK

"I read everything including the laundry list that comes at my home. When I used to stay in a hotel and couldn't find a book to read I used to read the instructions on how to escape in case of a fire. I love reading and like to read almost every book. I need to read before I sleep" ~@iamsrk

SHAH RUKH KHAN...YALE CHUBB FELLOW...SO PROUD OF YOU MY SHAH, *ILU*~ "World...Move over you’re standing on my oxygen tube.... I need to breathe~" #YALESRK... @iamsrk~

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

New Beginnings Year 2011

Today is a good day to new beginnings,
Our tale may be old but it’s new in this season
Speaking the arc of truth today
My muse’s blessing took the form of
An immaculate colored breeze
devouring the rebellious butterfly on the wing
As he guided me to

My new year’s resolution...

Loving those within and closest to my heart
Now more than ever

As he loved then, I loved back
Now I love and he loves even more
We will love still
And hope to love infinitely

Without misfortune or ramification
In the sweet breathing of our lives
2011 is a good year to just love
And truly be loved eternally and thereafter.


Tuesday, October 5, 2010

"My Adonis"

You stand before me
Handsome as always,
My Adonis
Sculpted from my love,
My dreams and desires.
I am astounded at how still you can be
As my eyes drink your flawless pose
Rock hard granite perfection.
Silky raven hair falling
Hanging above a placid
Forehead unrifled yet by age
A Masterpiece!
Gem colored eyes
Varying hue by the hour
Or reset by the mood
Cat's Eye Topaz
Malachite chartreuse
Fleshy lips flawlessly placed
Begging to be bitten...
To be consumed...
On an angular face
As if chiseled after an image of Eros
Erogenous neck line luring the eye
Down to your broad shoulders
Arms outlined in muscles
Defined and secure
Like a horse in gallop

Tag Heuer resting on your wrist
Interrupting the flow
To your hand
Harboring virile fingers
Painting, gliding and gripping
A pen, a phone, a brush,
My soft supple skin...
Your torso inebriating
Your well drawn back
A heavenly sea to rest upon
A pirate
plundering hearts
Wherever you may sail.

I met you long ago
Needing someone to dream of
When bored and to speak to
When lonely
To cry to and hold
When nights failed
To draw me into slumber

Now always together...

I have spoken to you
Of Love, Fears, Dreams
I have read your poetic words
Contemplating all of life
Your melodious soft voice
Stretches itself over the extension
Whispering magical words
Lulled with a sultry accent
Airing comforting phrases
These memories and time spent
With a man that is more than a rainy-day’s comfort
And a fleece blanket covering
My naked feet.

Like a whispered caress
I edge closer
To your wanting pedestal
I possess you
My one-piece collection,
Frozen forever in this moment
My hands move-rushing to
Polish you into refined elegance
Kissing your eyes,
Your dimple,
Your nose.
Caressing your face,
Your chest,
Your thighs.
I kneel before you
My Vampire Knight...
Smoothing you until you glisten
I come apart at the ends of
Your soft fingertips...
And before I am finished
I slowly run my lips
From the apex to the base
Of our passionate craving
Entangled in sweat and tears
Unafraid of tomorrow’s fears
Ecstatic to the moment’s oblivion

For every question
You hold in your heart
I answer
I am yours.

Friday, October 1, 2010

"Don't Question My Intelligence: SRK!!!"

I love posting anything that i find interesting and there're a million reasons why i adore Shah Rukh Khan as a man / star / actor and human being. Below is one among those many reasons. Here is an example of what simple human rights (Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Thought, Freedom of Religion, Equality excetera...) are and how they're interpreted and misconstrued by others. This is an article from the Times Of India and my thoughts come after, some translations are included...

Anshul Chaturvedi, TNN, Sep 30, 2010, 12.00am IST

SRK ke affair ki story mein ek byte communal harmony ka bhi chala do (While talking about SRK's affairs let's throw in a byte about communal harmony too) is how stars' perspectives on national issues are treated, says SRK, which is why he doesn't always say what he thinks. Except, of course, to TOI

Last week, the Mumbai police asked cine stars to appeal to people to maintain communal harmony as the Babri verdict approaches. You've spoken earlier – after Emraan Hashmi's press conference on not getting a house in Mumbai – and you'd said that you have a point of view, but you're defensive about expressing it because a) it's always misinterpreted, and b) the media doesn't take a stand. Today, if approached for bytes on communal harmony, are you willing to go beyond the one-liners?
Perhaps we should not be taken very seriously because we are film stars. You don't go to every engineer or doctor to take his viewpoint on communal harmony. The contrary argument to this is – oh, but you guys are public figures! My contrary argument is, we are public figures to the extent that we are entertainers. Beyond that, if there is an issue that I want to talk about, it may be personal, it may be women's education, I'll say it. You don't have to take it seriously, but if I felt it, I said it. If somebody takes it seriously, wonderful.

But I do feel that the line between how seriously we can take movie stars is rather fuzzy; we ask every movie star to talk about a national issue – whether it's the games, a cricket match, communal harmony, using contraceptives, polio vaccines... And on the same hand, we ask them some really silly things too. By virtue of subjecting a profession to two diverse thoughts – arre, bataiye, aap ne toh wahaan badi badtameezi ki thi, aap to sharab pi kar danga karte hain, humne suna hai ki aap ne toh...(Please tell us, you behaved so badly in that place, you drink and create havoc, we heard you .....) – you get a little schizophrenic. Am I someone who should talk about a larger issue in the overall interest, or am I someone who is just meant to be doing tomfoolery?

Yeah, the last time you spoke on this, you said, I'm just a dumb, vulgar star, why should I have an opinion?
Yeah, so why do I have to answer all this... so you are always in two minds when something like this is said. There are days when you feel, I'm not gonna speak, yaar. Because with the stage and the time of the work that you are doing, you reach a point when you cross just personal satisfaction. Then you think, I'll do this because cinema will look better. Of course you want your films to do well, but at some point you also begin doing it with a thought beyond just the BO returns.

But people only weigh it like that – that you can't think beyond your next film's future. That makes me go back to a thought – films and filmmakers and actors are part of a strange art form, which is only measured by the yardstick of commerce. So it's a dichotomy; it'll always be so. Ki hum artists hain, lekin jab tak woh painting biki nahi ek crore ki, tab tak hum bade artist nahin hain. (We are artistes but until that painting sells for a crore we haven't made it to the top) It's a strange thing, that you are weighed purely by commerce, while you are artistic by thought and belief. So sometimes, the question is put to you as an artistic person, about national interest. And you're like, haan, main artist hoon, main aapse is baare mein bolta hoon. (Yeah I'm an artiste, so I'm talking to you on this issue)) Suddenly, it's a commercial question – and you go, arre, yeh kahan se aaya... (Arre, where did this come from) It's a fait accompli, an occupational hazard, and I'll never be able to resolve it.

So when someone says to me, speak about communal harmony, I will say – yeah, I believe in communal harmony, in my house there's communal harmony. I believe my nation is truly secular, I truly believe that. So I will talk about it. And on the same platform, like you were just pointing out the contradiction, someone will ask me – toh aapka six pack aa gaya? (so have you got your 6-packs yet?) So you're like... how do I answer something on communal harmony and on six packs in the same breath? So you're, like I said, schizophrenic. You know you're playing two parts simultaneously, and so on days, you try to avoid playing at least one of them.

I don't know if people understand, from the outside, the dichotomy of questions that we are subjected to, ki bhai, kya poochh rahe ho same breath mein? (what are you asking in the same breath?) You don't ask the other part to national leaders, you never ask them a frivolous question. And just because we entertain, by jumping and doing fight scenes and dancing, it does not make us different...it takes a lot of intellect to do the silly things that we do on screen to convince a billion people that this is true. It takes a lot of intellect to be able to convince people to believe in fantasy – but people don't seem to be able to recognize that.

Like, Walt Disney wasn't a cartoon...
Absolutely. Walt Disney is not a cartoon. He is genuinely, internationally, the longest lasting phenomenon. You don't laugh at him when you see his face and say, he's Mickey Mouse. He's not Mickey Mouse – he's the creator of dreams. And some dreams are funny, some are silly, some are sweet – that does not make the creator any of those things, it just makes him very imaginative. It makes him versatile.

I like talking when people ask me sensible questions. Ask me senseless questions also, but in a context, and I can have fun, I can make you laugh at my answers. But it should not be that you are just doing it for a purpose which is so transparent, and you are questioning my intelligence by asking me a question like that; ask me a question, but don't question my intelligence. That's what it comes down to, many times. Come with a question, but don't come with a motive behind a question. But... you live with it. You do get irritated also, at times... maybe that is why people are taking to more social networking stuff. They are actually moving away. That is why you may find in the long run that the fastest information, the most important information, finally, all celebrities will end up giving through their own channel – be it a book, a blog, Twitter, XYZ. If I'm not talking about a topic on my channel, it means I don't want to talk about it. I'm very clear now, for example, I don't talk about religion. If somebody asks me a question, I usually won't answer, because what I say hurts people. So, it's like, sorry, now you can't have my views on religion, publicly, because you don't know how to appreciate it, because it causes too much strife.

Transmission losses?
Ya, ya, it all gets... in fact, in some time, I'm gonna take a position that I will not answer questions about co-actors. Ask me about my film, my work, my job, my stuff – good. Bas.

So if it is about your suit in " Ra.One", or the six packs, the pop answers, you will answer anyone, but if it is about something that you actually think about, like religion, you won't take a public platform, won't share it?
No, I won't share it. Not with the popular media. I don't think they're even interested in knowing. I doubt if there is any real interest. It is like – aap bol dijiye na, thoda sa bol dijiye communal harmony pe... matlab? (tell us a bit please, just say a few words on communal harmony....what's that?) It's like advertising. They just want me like someone who is selling that thing right now. Thoda sa bol do na... Shah Rukh ka affair ka story chala denge, toh uske andar ek yeh bit bhi aa jayega communal harmony appeal ka. (Just tell us a few words na?.....we'll start the story with Shahrukh's affairs and throw in a bit about communal harmony too) I think a lot of actors and right thinking people will be perplexed by that, won't they?

You've stuck to that line, of not commenting on issues of social relevance?
Yeah, I don't think movie stars are nationally relevant – it's as simple as that. Or, are thought to be not relevant enough to speak in the national interest, on national issues, without it turning out to be a full blown controversy. We are not supposed to have an opinion. If we have an opinion, it has to be controversial – that is how we are always projected. It is difficult. I do have my opinions, in a private room, and I like to share them, and I do like to figure out if they are correct or wrong; I am an open, 'discussive' kind of person, but it is so unfortunate that today, I am so worried about saying anything – can't even say anything nice about the city (Delhi) ki bhai kisi aur city ko bura na lag jaaye! (in case some other city gets offended) I may say things with the right intention, but more often than not, people will misconstrue it.

I couldn't help overhearing you talking to friends about the question of money-making in projects of national relevance, before we began this interaction...
If anyone is working on something in the national interest – even if there is this human nature, that I would like to earn because I am working the hardest in this activity, or whatever, if you feel you are not being paid enough for it as per your efforts, say so, make a clear-cut demarcation about these things. But be clear, whatever I am doing in the national interest, for a public activity, at least 51 per cent should go to the nation, I can look to make 49 per cent from it. It cannot be that 99 per cent I make and give 1 per cent to the nation! You need to give back. And when I say give back, I am not being idealistic, I'm a material guy, I'm a businessman, I'm a f****** rock star! Okay, maybe I shouldn't be talking like that, but the point I'm making is that, if I'm ever asked to do something in the national interest, do a project of national relevance, it's not as if I will not charge for it, but I will ensure that what I give back is not just worth that money, but is a little more than that. It should not be just value for money, it should be a little more than value for money. If you are in a business, your personal venture, take 100 per cent profit, take 500 per cent profit by all means, but if you are working on a national project, the objective cannot be to take back a 500 per cent profit. If somebody is working very hard, or deserves a lot of money, pay him upfront, say he is going to be working for so much time, he deserves it – and then put the rest of the money where it should go. But unfortunately, that sort of transparency is rarely there.

In that context – Rahman being paid 5 crore for the games song, which is widely seen to be a fiasco. Do you think this is an instance of delivering more than a little value for money, as you say, or is it that when politicians and bureaucrats commission something, even a Rahman ends up delivering a sarkari output?
Uh... you see, yaar, creativity has this problem, sometimes it'll be liked, sometimes it won't. It's unfortunate that perhaps we expected something more popular from this music, and it isn't that. See, this is very subjective. You will find enough people who like that also, I think. But perhaps one has decided at some level to take the Commonwealth Games and say, everything is wrong. Ek predisposed idea ho gaya hai – Commonwealth hai, sab kuch kharab hai. Paani aa gaya, dengue aa gaya, traffic aa gaya, yeh ho gaya, woh ho gaya... sab kuch galat hai. Ek wrong footing par aa gaya hai games,(It's become a predisposed idea now - It's the CWG, everything's rotten. There's floods, there's dengue, too much traffic, this...and that...everything's bad) and the song is also caught up in that.

Also, I think the whole spectacle is a reflection of how little we appreciate sporting events in our country. We as it is are quick to demean it, and of course all these recent controversies in cricket etc are not helping it either. It's a slightly grey area for us.

A Bollywood superstar, brand ambassador for a state, a little later is brand ambassador for another state with a completely different political ideology...?
You can see it one way, I see it the other way, like I am affiliated to, say, Pepsi. If I leave Pepsi, and later Coke tells me to do something for them, I'd do it. I have no issues, whether Coke and Pepsi have different ideologies or not. See, I'm called for a job, I'd do it. I used to endorse a computer company; they don't use me any more, for the last one and half years. There's another computer company that just called me, and I said of course I'll do it. Of course I believe both the companies are good at their job. And I believe it is my job to tell people about what the good points of either company are. I'm not lying in either case.

If I'm called to launch the Delhi Eye, I'll say okay, I'll come, I was excited by the London Eye, so if there's something like that opening here, and I'm called, I'll come. Tomorrow if I'm called to launch the Chennai Eye, I'll go and do it, or the Bhopal Eye, or the Lucknow Eye. There's no political line, as far as I see it.

Find Original Article here:


I think we look at stars or public figures as servants of our own egos and not human enough to feel and do the things we do simply because they're portrayed as a bit alien with something more than a normal person. Hence, we emulate them and blame them at the same time for simply being human. But it's time we realize that they're no different than we're they just happen to be in a different line of work than most of us. Okay granted they make more money but anyone who works hard enough or invents something can make that kind of money. However, this is besides the point. I have met women who tell me that their kids look up to President Obama and therefore when he smokes he's setting a bad example. Yeah you heard me right...Please do excuse my French but who the fuck thinks like that??? How does your parental responsibility get transfered to the President of the United States??? Does he not have enough responsibilities on his plate as a public servant of this United States of America, he has to babysit someone's kids, a responsibility that is solely theirs as parents?? Oh and as if that isn't enough you find parents that that let their kids watch whatever is on the TV or online like a Lady Gaga video and then when their kids want to dress like her they decide to blame the Musician and completely fail to see how idiotic that is!! Because Gaga didn't give birth to their child, they did it's up to them to shelter their kids from anything that maybe a bad influence or overexposure to the Media...

I fail to understand this kind of mentality where people project their personal responsibilities to movie stars, musicians, political figures and other celebrities.

Why do we ask movie stars and musicians questions about politics or how to run our country? Isn't this the work of those congressmen, senators and Members of Parliament we voted for and put on those high end seats to run our countries and governments? And who says movie stars and musicians don't have a political opinion? Are they not citizens of their countries and well serving members of those very communities? They have every right to voice their opinions just like everyone else but we make it a big deal that they have spoken and God forbid they said something sensible so we turn on them and use their words against them. But wait... when we need them to show up for an event (fund raising etc..) we're promoting then suddenly their opinions seem to matter. How wrong is this???

So here is my take on it because it annoys the living daylights out of me...

People...all the above persons have their own lives to deal with besides yours. They have their own:
-Families (Children ) to raise
-Jobs that they have to work hard at to survive
-Trying to please all their fans or followers
-Entertain everyone
-Keeping up appearances everywhere
-Maintaining the the peace amongst us because we're just too stupid to work together on common goals that benefit us all as human beings (Democrats and Republicans)

Now get your shit straight ya'll, get on top of your game and take care of your own damn responsibilities and issues as parents and members of your communities instead of sitting on your asses and blaming some public figure who has no clue what your psychosis or egotistic self centered-ness is all about!!!

Ask yourselves what your responsibilities as parents, members of society and as human beings are before you throw all that to some actor, musician, or politician. We all have an obligation to ourselves and an interest in our communities and need to evaluate how we're making a difference for ourselves, our families and others around us before we designate that accountability to someone else!!


Tuesday, September 28, 2010

"A Lesson In Chemistry"

Indivisible you come to me...meeting me in the spaces...
between our hearts...
Here now...talk to me...more about everything...whisper slowly...
Films with you...films of you...old black and white movies...
colored ones too...
Take off my armour...stay tonight...decorate me...
Reflections in cafe` windows...we sit and read together...
I want (not less)...maybe more... yes more...touching...
your glittering gold...
Surround me...soft pillows...in hotel rooms...waiting...
Dream...make it unforgettable...everything else...
leave it unsaid...
Needing...You undress me...unfolding me...my layers...
My fingers...mesh and then unmesh with yours....
They trail...over the soft olive flesh...
Of your forearm...to your back...down...
So strong...yet vulnerable...Your sight...
It never fails to undo me...

Confessions...In your ear...I need to run...down every path of you...
Exhaust myself in the many mazes...and patterns of you until weary...
I collapse...allowing the last remaining traces of coherence...
To abandon me before...the madness of your scent...
Leaves me...without an identity...

"Mmmm..." You giggle...looking at me...you search deep...in my eyes...

Gift wrap me...red bow...make it about nothing...
about something...about everything...
Say it...I will...tell me stories...till dawn...
Sweet...sweeter...sweetest...equations and calculations...as you...
Feed me...
Loving...your tenderness...such beauty...fade in me...you are my whole...
Our lips...our torsos...our hips...our thighs...our moisture...
Our straining...our collapse...inside...

"Please...!" You whisper... again and again...as you're kissing me...
Not knowing what you're begging for...but it almost feels like it’s your life...
I have never heard you plead before...
"Yes Sir...!" I say...tears rolling down my eyes..."Anything you need...
...Everything you need..." I belong to you...murmuring...
Drowning in your kisses...beneath the flood of your yearning...
You lose yourself... in me...I come undone...
Falling into one another...complete rapture...

By the phone...calling me...play me like your sax...
Cover me...
Comforting you...giving trust...love...my fire...You
Glued to you...on you...portraits of intimacy...fit in my frame...
My winter coat...your arms...your heartbeat...Within me...
Your touch...meliorates my emotive wounds...
Your lips...nestle the glaze of my being...
Your soul...becomes that of with purpose...only after my own...


Tuesday, September 21, 2010

"Love's Invasion"

Love came in a Spanish calypso
with sonnets written under a
Back Bay’s Indian moon
It was smoking a Cuban cigar
filled with verses written
by romantic film heroes
Blowing clouds of carnival sounds
trying to rewrite the notes to my heart
I fell prey
to the sweet tongue
Kissing my heaven

When I was awakened
from the hypnotic loving
It had stolen my rebel
Leaving me like those badass poets
Who once composed the history of
Britain with their famished teeth
Volcanic lyrics that made
The devil retreat under words
they can now be seen on road side theaters
Singing tunes of Shakespeare
Writing love messages in bottles
Searching for that predator
Who indulged on their hearts
Very shortly they will blossom
Because that is what love will do
Filling your inkwell with roses
and soft melodies
Making you forget to cry
I feel the beating heart from graves
Of men whose bravery still bleeds on my page
I didn’t want to fall in love
And have it take away the pain
Because yesterday needs revealing
and tomorrow needs replenishing

But alas...

Am too late for Love’s Invasion.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

"Third Strike!"

Rise before me...
Take your shirt out of your jeans.


I didn’t say you could look at me.
You just earned your...

First strike!

Kick your shoes off and spread your legs apart.
I want bare feet
Spread them wider
I can see the pulse jumping at your throat.
You’re breathing fast, baby...
There’s no reason to be afraid of me.
At least, not yet.
I can always smell you.
Your scent’s caught on my skin
and when I taste it on waking
My smile soaks into my day
and spreads like honey through my limbs
You smell like sandalwood and tonquin musk
with white chocolate
I’ll never be hungry again
Or soiled

Unbutton your shirt from the bottom to the top.
I shouldn’t have to repeat myself.

That’s the second strike!

Throw your shirt near your shoes
and take a deep breath.
If you look at me again,
I’ll pull one of your chest hairs out
with my nails and feed it to you.

You know...literally?

I’ll place my lips against yours
and tug them open
With my incisors and a guarded heart
Don’t worry, I won’t be gentle
I’ve started to need you
So I’ll bite hard this time.

I’m going to hurt you tonight
In three delicate ways
So that you don’t hurt me
When your hand gets tangled
in my hair as we sleep
Pull your jeans just below your hips
And be still...

Such marvelous lines to fall into here
my throat aches..am thirsty...

There’s a muscle twitching beside your belly
when I reach out with my two hungry fingers
You almost flinch.

That is the third strike!

You know what that means...

Come here boy... *I Love You* ~:)

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

"The Child In Him"

I love
The child in him
so innocent and sweet
The mischief in his eyes
The blush upon his cheek
The tender way he speaks
I love
That he shows me that he cares
And tells me he loves me in his own invented
The little colds disturbing his ever
Strong immune system
That give him a stuffy nose,
How he sweetly agonizes
On everything smelling less
How I make him chicken noodle soup
And give him lemon with sweet honey
Cold remedies concocted in the
Pharmacy of my soul
Honey lemon syrup of passion and
Hot ginger filled in his laughter

I love
The touch of his warm hand
That gently touches my hair
When he’s feeling better
And he holds me in his arms
The warmth from his chest on my face
as I lay on my forever home
I love
When he wears "the pink eye glasses"
The way he says my name
When I kiss his nose
The smiles that we share
That fill my life with glee
For when I’m with him
I find the child in me.

Monday, August 30, 2010

"My Predicate"

Words seem so inadequate
When I reach for you.


I want to
Precisely convey
The trace of my fingertip
Along the nape of your neck
or along the soft dimple in
the small of your cheek
as i stroll down the furrows
of your chest...

But how?

Each night as I envelop you in my arms
Your love’s scent mocks my attempts
to attach these predicates
called words
And when I awake and
find your hand in mine
I desperately search for
An unused phrase,
And unrepeated clause
That paints best a picture,
That speaks to you and of you
Of this delight that you sketch
Within me beyond definition

Yet what else is there for me to use?

I am no painter or actor
Is there another language
I must learn
That can portray
The way we fit and
The safety we feel
As we hold one another?
Our gaze meets and
our dreams are intricately
Every night I madly search
The heart’s dictionary
The soul’s thesaurus
And once more
The words slowly abate
Your loving glance becomes the
rhyming composition
Your laughter the emotional verse
The brush of your lips become
my pausing sonnet
Your arms wrapped around me
the Academy
This game is astoundingly frustrating
yet thrillingly beautiful


It is Evolution, an Atomic
Fusion of electrical transformation,
an Inception
That needs to catch up
Where the Predicate
And our heart space is so
Undeniably intertwined
That one learner cannot survive
without the other
Certainly that is what already is,
Our never ending comma
An everlasting trend.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

"Embracing your chaos"

I wrote this first in long hand in the dark
Wrote you short hand in the dim
to feel the words take me innocently upon the page
the distractions of the colour of life ruled away
Or was I trying to be a secret agent of my words?
Going undercover as I scrawled my
heart speak over an unlit page
hiding my feelings in the dimming
But each letter that fell
I knew where the right imprint of my truth was
I desire to write them on your skin each day one by one
with my tongue dipped in the ink of you
I love you
I love you still
I love you without the need to have a returning page
Eyes closed into the shadow of us
you ate from the goblet of my flames
slowly I consumed the fuel of my forever love for you
I lay quietly, glistening, the stars of my skin twinkling as your fingers passed
You wondered what universe you had led my mind to.
I played amongst the clouds the tremulous symphony
that was neither predictive nor pre-emptive.
Annihilating me you celebrated my fascination
Imbibing our motivation right to the core of the matter
to the nuance of our heart beat with undying emotion.
Such it was...
A knowing that cannot be spoken
A love that cannot be broken.
Day came with a discerning ray of light
And I awoke with a smile of contentment
my lips blurred a little in midnight blue
A no regret kind of awakening morning
It just does not feel wrong
to love the way we do, our biopic.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

"Through Their Eyes"

Through their eyes
Door to door
Street to street
Her walk, little feet leaving imprints
Of mud and innocence,
selling her fruits and tins.
5 cents a fruit
20 cents a fish
10 cents per yam
The basket on her head
That is too big for her to carry
Weighing down on her steps and slowing her heart;
She cannot go home until it is all sold.
What will the little mouths eat?
She has a shawl draped
over her thin and weary shoulders,
With her thin and weary face
Are sharpened eyes that smolder
Telling of the truth, and the ways
And the days of their lives
That are not ever comfortable or playful;
It is why she does not smile.
Disappearing is the sun
as it sinks to the other face of earth
So that other little girls
May start the fires on their hearth
Or whatever it is that other little girls do.
This one walks on and on
vanishing out of sight
And she knows, though she keeps knocking
Door to door to door,
street to street to street,
there will be no meal for the little mouths
and that there will be no bed for her tonight.

All over this world trouble remains
Every man thinking about the rules of the game
But no-one is praying for the answer to find
The secret to happiness for all of mankind.

Every day, a little hope fades
Lost in the ocean, consumed by the waves
Of poverty and hunger, felt in the hearts
Of my young sisters living so far apart.
And into the distance of the path that we walk
We’re surrounded by silence for we never talk.


Monday, August 16, 2010


Hello everyone, Brian or better known as The Urban Cowboy asked me to do a guest post. Of course I couldn't say no because it was an honor and i was elated. Most of us know him as a decent, loving and amazing human being. I admire him for his generous spirit and lovely sense of humor. Besides that, he can write some mean stories for those who enjoy reading as i do. So if you haven't met him then please stop by and visit him, you won't regret it :)

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

"Into Dimensions of You"

You came to me
like the soft strain
of violins
strangely solemn
saxophone sexual
on a bare raw breathe
I bled into your angelic limbs
as I soared through your heaven
you caught my essence
like blood and red wine
you sipped me slowly,
savored of my sweat.

Softly now
My lips linger
like cigarette smoke
on the taste of your glow
My heart warbles a chant
to the hymn of your soul
a tantalizing stroke
on the hull of your want
to the rains, the stars and the moon,
to the quiet,
to the rhythm.
You and I
reach to the sun
beneath the shades of blue
echoes like white shells and sand
hand in hand
You came to me
but linger infinitely...

Saturday, August 7, 2010

"Tell Me"

She walks through the door startling him, he looks up. For a while they stare at each other. Then she says, “You look tired, it looks like it’s been a busy day.” He replies, "Yeah..you have been busy too." Can you tell me what happened?
She replies, “Maybe someday...”

Then he asks her, "Did I lose you? Did I..?"

She walks up to him and hugs him. Then she answers, “I have known you all my life and even then I only knew half of you...the promise of you. But these past few months, you have fulfilled your promise. How could you ever lose me?
He tightly hugs her tears rolling down his eyes, he kisses her forehead.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

"Gold on Film"

The alarm shrilled
lingering briefly
he invited the morning sun rays in.
Just another day on his calendar
the morning was as the previous,
but this one was strangely
full of hope and belief.
How could he have realized it then?
No signs had laced into his dreams.
Building up anguish seeped into his bones,
he did not turn to his wife to voice it
nor did he kiss her good-morning.
He had decided to change the rules to the game
No longer a game player,
he had become the game changer.

He dressed up and ate his breakfast
reveled in his children’s eyes,
the goodbyes at the airport were short.
Going into the day that was every yesterday
of his tomorrow, his work on the film sets.
On location during a shoot she walked in,
exuberant her cheeks swallowed
each step she took left a foot print upon his heart.
Shifting her gaze; his eyes followed
concealing her dying heart inside a rib maze,
his world spun in only her direction.
Silence filled every hour she was out of sight
limbo rocking his heart back and forth.
His need had grown patient arms
but it was her tears that undid him.

Then they met again and again there after,
every moment tasting different
sweeter than the last.
He was quiet and unassuming in his disposition,
the gentle elixir for all she’d known before.
Her spilling joy was everything
missing in his uniform existence.
He knew her ache was boiling
beneath her jubilant crust,
she couldn’t bear to see him alone
not even for a second.
She had vowed to watch over him every night,
he had sworn to dance with her every day.
She loved him beyond her dying heart,
he loved her beyond all reason.

Submitted to One Shot Wednesday .

Friday, July 23, 2010


Sat on the grass, listening to the crickets,
laid me a map on the ground,
wide and lusty.
Fornicating with the soil it touched my outskirts,
It said, “Take me”
I said, “I will after the beautiful storm”
Looking at the map more carefully,
I realized it was fleshier,
mountainous in all the right places,
with hills exactly where there were meant to be.
Curiosity got the best of me, so I touched it and
Lo and behold!
It was my lover’s body, laid out on lascivious grass,
and it was the best map I could think of,
with all the GPS gadgets strategically placed,
he took me on an exhilarating journey,
to places I had never dreamt of.
So as not to sting him, I used blue and orange thumbtacks
to mark my favorite destinations,
the towns that I’d visit again and again with urge wondering lust,
he led me to the creek where we celebrated our selfness,
leaving a love stain on the leaves,
we mapped out our eternal tomb.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010


Screaming angel prays,
imprisonment tumbles flat,
shining some stag bends.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

"Jungle fever illation"

It was a lovely early morning in the wild, the sun was just mounting up high in the sky and the hill-side whitened with blossoms of mountain ash. Late autumn colors flashed hues of red, yellow, drab, purple and light to dark shades of green. A rich coverlid of grass— exotic animals and birds—with private untrimmed banks of primitive apples and pebble-stones all negligent of one another as beautiful fragments. That is what I called them or thought of them. Drooping shy and unseen were our love thoughts of love yielding and acts of love climbing. Hands and arms of love, lips of love, phallic thumbs of love, breasts of love, bellies pressed and glued together with love. An all earthly chaste of jungle love it seemed.

Watching our body of love--the body of the man I love with me as the morning dew airs blew from the southwest, nature unraveling--the hairy wild-bee murmured and hankered up and down— griping the full grown lady-flower, curved upon her with amorous firm legs, took his will of her, and held himself tremulous and tight till he was satisfied. In the wet of woods through the early hours, the curious roamer kept at work; his hands roaming all over the body with bashful withdrawing of flesh where the fingers soothingly paused and edged themselves. The mystical delectable night—the strange half-welcome pangs, visions, sweats, had brought us to pulses pounding through palms and trembling encircling fingers, a rocking conclusion at the horizon. Flushes after flushes, surfing in the rain as everything seemed better when wet. Hot hands seeking to repress what would master him; his voice carrying me into a land of open grass plains, a place where anything and everything was possible. Jungle fever driving us mad. Then a wholesome relief, stillness, content with fulfilled sighs. Work was done as we tossed carelessly to fall where we could in the beautiful wilderness, our safari concluded.

"Toffee and Ice-Cream Swirl on Safari"

Trickling in caramel toffee warmth down my back,
he slithers as sugar magic streams through our veins.
My stomach aching to receive the lightness
that is the tone in his caressing voice,
crushing like stampeding animals,
herded through a kaleidoscope rainbow,
remembering to slow down.
Then taking it all in before the atmosphere disappears,
our Safari sketched.
Erupting into chaotic cacophonous diatribe on frailty,
realizing this is reminiscent of nothing ever felt before,
giving new meaning to feelings.

Every fiber in my being driven to call out to your wild,
primitive self,
brooding and emotive yet somehow fragile,
elongated musings drawing out in the middle of the afternoon,
tasting toffee colors and mischief swirls of ice-cream on the lips of you.
Us dripping down walls like water draining,
sapping of energy but still energized enough,
partaking in another rendition of love’s ballad.

Harmonizing elegantly, sensuously, sumptuously,
and scintillating lust masquerading in erotic repose.
None knowing the depths of this passion we share,
giving up all attempts to decipher our puzzle,
meaning only to enjoy this moment.
Hoping for many others that resemble this
delightful melting of ebony and ivory,
titillating, unabated and inebriated spirits morphed into one.
Marathon sessions of exasperations,
sleeping and awakening to start all over again,
drawing in breathes upon shattering release,
losing grip on sense; giving in to shameless enjoyment.
Deploying every trick ever leaned through time,
eliciting the love, pleasures of body and mind.
Electrifying skin prickles with droplets of sweat,
glistening with sheen of exhaustion,
palpitating hearts beating in unison,
so many beats per minute.
Racing to the point of passing out we shout;
"Oooh...now isn't this just the sweetest insanity of toffee and ice-cream swirl?"

Submitted to One Shot Wednesday .

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