My Body is a Letter to God

my body is a letter to god,
on days, when i write to her,
she snoozes her mailbox
and sends back unlearned
birdsongs to sing, when i
mess up the rhythm of the
songs, my body hibernates
like god for several seasons.
after my autumn and spring
pass by, leaving only melancholy,
leaving for my body – ideas
of how it should have looked
but how much shame, it is
different, my letter wakes
god up and she sings back-
prayers do not recover the
bodies that have been abandoned
by their souls, god wept as
she traced my body vein by
vein, “your spirit is a temple
of sentiments and stories,
your body is religion – hollow.”
i crumbled my letter and dug
it deep in my fist, as i touched
my blemished, fat, unloved,
untouched, abjured body,
it bloomed and goosebumps
like flowers rose with a desire:
“make love more often, aren’t
you home finally?”

~ P

Her Skin is Not Who She Is

Before you judge a woman for her colour or her scars, maybe you must remember the skin of your own mother, her love, her smile, her wounds, her cries, her sacrifices, her surrendering moments were all so vast that probably for most of us, she’s the first woman who was perfect in her flaws.
The girl you judge might be for you a moment, a passage of time, a life that doesn’t matter but the same girl, the same girl cried several nights trying to find her own soul and check whether it has a light or it too is a lie.
The same girl let the tap in the basin make louder noise than the cries of her heart just because she was scared of being judged a little more.
The same girl might have fought unknown battles against something she deserved to fall in love with.
Before you judge a girl for her skin or her face, would you not like to fall in love with the thought that her face had galaxies resting upon it, maybe she knows it and maybe she doesn’t.
Would you not like to fall in love with the thought that she too might break every nerve visible through her skin into laughter one day when serenity touches her and sets her a little more free.
Would you not like to fall in love with the thought that despite her flaws, she too is a journey through her own valleys and rivers, she too is a map to somewhere inside her soul.
Would you not like to fall in love with a thought that when each one of us stop looking at just a face, we would start reading the wholeness of a soul beneath it.

~ There’s a lot more than you can see on the surface

It’s a mad mad world

People are people
they can’t be anyone
anyone can be people
and then i see no meaning
for what each of us is,
it’s their in the heads
and what if, it isn’t the truth?

They taught us things
now things aren’t even those things,
they move, they change,
they die,
their masks fall off
and how rapidly,
not even one could I catch.

I would have tried
to be what they say
you can’t ever be,
but life ate me
and I gulped it too fast.

It’s a mad mad world
their voices
they think are sacred chants,
never realized
their temple bells are noises,
they stink of bloodied hands.

Blood of a murderer is fine
but a womb’s blood, a shame.
Blood that cycles
with pain and cramps
gives life to monsters
and men alike,
all they die
the same death,
it’s the blood
that bears the name
of spots, strains and wreath.

It’s a mad mad world
they said God made it
and hence, it better be holy.
Wrote books on God’s behalf,
called them ‘the books of truth’,
named him ‘He’
for ‘She’ was the truth
they die to hide.

If I am to tell you
a secret
I call her She
and sometimes
I forget the word God
I am to say God
and almost it sounds Gdo
or Dgo
like I fell from sacredness
to callousness,
because I love her idea
I love her without the skin
people made her wear.

Every night
in every ‘ness’
I visit the same God
without name
sans thought.

It’s a mad mad world
pinches to live in
they have made homes
say they’re shelters
all false
all false
they’re never ending walls
but all false
If I am to say
for once be at a madhouse
raw and real
in the end,
they build their own dooms
and I wander and run.

and it’s never
going to make sense
born in a fence
they kill you
in the fence,
they always love to
kill you in the fence.