I Steal From You (I Steal You)

I steal.
I steal you away from your laptop
Into whose glare you fish
For the strained brightness
And aspired automation of dreams
Only, you understand them wrong
Dreams aren't used to automation.

They are built from the romance

 Of exasperation.

Of figments you inherently know

Are not yours to live and die with.

Dreams are what I have
Which steal shreds of reality
Into a make believe world
Where you're not endlessly staring
Into your painfully flawless machine.
But my eyes.
Just my eyes. 

(My once brown, then golden eyes.)

And then in my being.

I steal.
I steal from you some touches.
Cheap, you'd think.
The problem, my dear, is,
Each time your bump into me
Or your hand brushes my arm
Or you casually tousle my hair
A million tremors assail my skin
And that which lies deep within.
Your innocent touches
Embolden me
To plant deliberate caresses
On whatever of you
I wish to consume.
You might not know
But my head resting on your shoulder
Is the least innocent act
My mind can conjure.

(While I am at it, 

The pain of my thoughts,
Only heaven may endure.)

I steal.
I steal you away to the moon
No less.
And there, I force you
To force me
Into violent, cheesy lovemaking
With six time the passion
And one sixth the weight.
You lie light on my chest
Even as your heavy breathing
Pretends to cover
My uncovered, undiscovered lust..

Did you hear the sonorousness?

Of a heart learning to fly

And cry again? 

The taste of the tears

Is like a jolt into reality

As if salt existed

Only to scratch and wound the stealth

I employ

To gain you. 

I steal. 

I steal to realise

What I stole from you

Belonged not to you

In the first place. 

I steal to erode moments

Off MY limited life span

Placing happy packets

Full of airy airs

In fancy showcases

Of a humongous villa

You and I built

In a stolen moment of intimacy. 

These happy packets

Would burst and cackle

And bring down the villa. 

The only pain of which

Could be felt in my heart

(While you'd continue to stare

And pester for automation of dreams.)

I steal.

I steal but fail to realise.

If I am cheating you,

Or slapping myself a challan

(Calculated in time and heart units)

For yet again jumping

The danger signal

And stepping on the desire path

Through sylvan silks

Leading to the lake

With enough water

To drown me proper. 

In the world of metaphors,

No theft goes unrewarded.

But love does. 

And so, the lover in me

Will continue being a thief,

With loot

Than being a lover

With love cut loose. 

PC - lizkapiloto (etsy)

What The Stars Know And I Don't

The Lake

Beseeching
I look at the stars
Twinkling as scars
On the dark landscape of my memory.

Screeching
My words in my ears
Mere seconds converted to years
From the time you left me.

Pleading
My heart to for his love
For the heaven above
To pull aside the curtain of fury.

Feeling
The arrogance turn to dust
The soul poised to burst
Into a million shreds of agony.

PC - Mohit Tyagi

I sat alone, alone with the stars, remembering the tick-tock of his steps hurrying out of our house. The tick-tock of his leaving resonated till much later in the sounds of the clock. Time serves as a reminder of his love and my envy, his embrace and my pride, his loyalty and my doubt. I’m sitting, sitting along, gazing at the stars, to spot a speck of his reflection.

I know not where he is. Probably the stars do.

Nasamajh

Shayari kya hai
Yeh likhne baithi
Toh tumhe likh baithi.

Khalipan par wafa ke naam

Ek khat shuru kiya hai

Is khat ki khata itni hai

Ki hosh ke daayre se ucchal

Sharaab ke sheeshe se takra

Guzre  waqt, jazbaat aur syahi ki

Ek naayab cocktail ijaat kardi isne.

Ab jahaan saansein tez hoti hain

Wahaan qalam bhaari ho jata hai

Dil ki dhadkane badhti hain

Toh mez se kaagaz ud jata hai

Ghulti ja rahi hoon

Us nasamajh cocktail mein

Mit-te ja rahe ho tum

Mera guroor

Toooti si reh gayi hai tumhaari yaad

Aur mere qalam ki chonch.

Mujhe safed kaagaz kabhi samajh nahi aaya

Main baithi hoon
Un peele-puraane panno mein

Dari aur sakpakaayi

Ki agli baar

Shayari kya hai

Yeh likhne baaithoon

Toh tumhe na likh baaithoon.

Aur 'gar tumhe likhne lag jaaoon

Toh khud ko na kho doon. 

Mujhe meri shayari dobara samjha do. 

PC - The Reading Room

It's April first today. What better than love, alcohol and blank diaries to make a fool of oneself?