Blackish Brown

It wasn't any better
leaky taps and brimming drains
greasy yellow walls
atop squalid mosaic floors
and on the flaky ceiling
the gloom hung heavy
a cigarette lightened it up
and I ventured out
the streets were even worse
abound with fidgety elders,
clueless urchins and
women from a distant time
all breathing in, miserably,
the air of irrelevance
and the sky, you ask?
the sky was blackish brown 

Empty gaze

I entered the store
and stood by a corner
while my wandering gaze
slipped down her smooth skin
got stuck in his unkempt hair
caressed the flowers in her stole
met the storekeeper's empty stare
and then my mind got split in two
one was following my gaze and
the other was thinking of you

Fault

Didn't sleep a few nights
but you never came back
had my mind set on you
but you never turned up
stopped thinking about you
still not a word
not even a nod of approval
or a gesture of dissent
I will look the other side
and never cross paths
even if you smile at me
you'll see a blank face
all of this and maybe more
to make you realize
the fault in your ways

Try

Besides those swishing sounds
of the flimsy creaky swings
and the odd bird chirping
as if mocking my misery
I screamed in a voice
that wasn't quite mine
forgetting how to walk,
I ran, jumped and danced
inelegant and ungainly
not very proud of myself
but as you swagger by
here goes another try 

Of dreams and fears

Of late I've been
dreaming much too less,
thinking about life ,
but the endless strife
is where I digress,
and flee the scene

my conscience is a dog,
gnashing and drooling
to scare them away,
but they are here to stay.
who am I fooling,
with this stupid slog?

Pictures

What a picture is to me?
hope sometimes
but mostly despair
frustrating at times
and its only fair
you live in your pictures
but I die a million deaths
yet live to tell the tales
of admiration and envy
of joy and dejection, but
its a shame how
all the wits, charms,
advances and snubs are
punctuated by a snap and
they say I think too much
but its the best I can do
for I would have a rotten life
if I lived in pictures too 

Recantation

If I could cleave this hopeless sky
or a few incisions could I make
what lies beyond may sooth my soul
or wearier it may render me
it is indeed a purgatory
a blunt knife I listlessly wield
and myriad doubts unhinging
night's rodents gnawing at my grit
the rope still hangs over yonder
a short climb and I'll reach a place
a place I climbed down from, a year ago
and vowed I'll never visit again
this tilt in balance is enough though
I go running back to the rope again
while pride outweighs the want for love
foreboding it certainly can't