Rupture

A soundless vocal of mis-intent
captured in the raw labyrinth obscenities;
cowering, calling, an excuse is rare
for the torturous hand one enjoys to situate.

Could it be that the love had descended?
Decreased, increased in a multitudes of nets
fortified, only, when a tempo arouses the flesh.
A dance so luckless, leaves all the ladies of fortune in unrest.

Why are you so potentially dull, distorted and ambiguous?
Pray, tell me so - let your tongue becomes senseless from fleshed-dances.
Had you seen or where you always this infertile?
So, I gather you rupture, yourself, around you, it is the suicide of living that fascinates you.

The Forbidden Hiding

You think you deserve the penalty
the gift of all restraints
the fact is you could never learn
the guilty cannot deceive.

If deception was a game tonight
the players would be cruel indeed
then pray that all you can see
is innocene astounded.

What do you want from me?
Needing me beyond the need of love, can there be such a thing?

I know secrets are careless still
they whisper too loudly
they like to be peacocks
and get praised for their bodies

But the spider of truth has spun her webs
and those gossamers don't take kindly to forbidden loves
because in the end they merely chase kisses
and the flesh becomes undone in rot

What do you want from me?
Ecstacy beyond the door of ecstacy, can there be such a thing?

So beg me to be a little hopeless
because my logic doesn't accept these hidings
you sure you want those things?
My forbidden eye got scarred by bleeding for your lusts

I know what you wanted from me
Truth besides the beyond the truth, surely, there can be such a thing.

No More Life

Maybe
I should have stopped
Maybe
I would have been glad to give away
Maybe
I needn't have said sorry

Now there's no life in pride
and there can be no existing in gold
all these jewels are cobwebs
and I'm the insects they bind
and these diamond are forever, compromised
for they are bones that only lie.

So, if I say my sorry
can you tell me where my soul went?
She got up on a bus and left yesterday
He also took the train as he loved me no more
because my psyche thought fortune was a tip on a dream
but dreams as foolish beings
they mislead reality.

So I plead her to love me once more
So I plead with him to not go
but he said he is just not real
and she says she wants to live
because my life is no more.

Temporary

I used to believe
that I could survive the world
despite these girls and boys
and inanimate toys, breaking my life

It's so concealed that can be portrayed
the real is not so important
it's temporary madness anyway
the idealist lives because he dreams.

Come a little closer
look beyond the mirror but also the image you can see
life's too fair so it becomes unfair
like living in the body of man.

My life means nothingness
to the sounds of all the virtues
but to make meaning
I must break all things
even it be emptiness

so hurry now
the world awaits
so hurry now
your dreams awaits
the passage is temporarily
blocked by obscenity

Of man who plans love
who keeps organizing all too much
please believe me when I say
that temporary things have a way
of making you believe in eternity

So though my flesh is present
and my soul is past
and my bones my future
they all temporarily collide
creating the explosion of breathing
life needs no permanence
for temporary breathing
becomes the immortal qualified.

It Hurts Passively

It was meant to hurt passively
due to the coincidences
it was my serendipity
your accident my orchestrated limbs
each body of misfortune my own.

Maybe, you should have known
love is virtually hurt
it's meant to hurt passively

You stupidly thought you did all the wrongs
and I nodded making you believe my rights
but when I did hurt you passively
you passively submitted to hurt

You were always such a fool
passively you existed in all my ploys
so it was easier to hurt the passive annoyance
that which was the you, passively...

Don't Touch

Don't touch
I'm fragile
I need air around me

Don't touch
I'm sacred
to myself which needs isolation

But yu keep touching
layers and layers
of fingers
they eat
they see
my skin

So when I see you touching
I cry
when I see you touching
I ask why?
My body needs a hole
to bury my skin
to bury myself

Don't touch
I command
I'm a vehicle of loneliness

Don't touch
I demand
your fingers are too gentle, it's chaos

so lips need stitching
fingers need breaking
and I need sand
to entomb this dream

Don't touch
the untouched
but please touch
beyond the burial
you'll see more than fingers
you'll see me, before I was born.

Faulty As Perfection

Possibly it'll be nice
if you would do
what marionettes do
their soul needs limbs
they need to breathe
through the mouths of others

They don't need existence
They don't live
They don't depend
but, they are there

Possibly, it'll be nice
if you would remain naked
you wouldn't need clothes to mask you
and I need not surrender to you
as marionettes do

They don't need existence likely
They don't give
They don't act
but, they are here

Maybe I am just being lost
Maybe I should get lost
that's what you do
but what marionettes do
what they do is stare
with living eyes that don't live

They don't need existing
they don't grieve
they don't move
but, they are loved

An another episode of perfection goes by
hidden in between the marionettes soul of souless-ness
maybe you would love that
the wires look pretty
they're here, there, everywhere
and they are loved
only, when they are needed

I guess I made you perfection
a marionette-body incapable of being perfect.

The Sinner Behaves

She called me, first
and then she
called him next
while we sexed
it seemed to be normal

For a while I did my job
For a moment I learned to smile
sans crookedness, because it was not only sex
but I yearned to punish

This heart cannot be conformist to virtue
It wants ths hatred of heaven
the hatred of hell
it cannot be trusted
because it has found Eden unlearned

So when I was moral
I twisted her heavily
I twisted him broken
when the body craved
I did not release

sinfully I kissed both wronged lovers
in nothingness of love I found
the love of sin.

Fortress Of Beautiful

She tenses then climaxes into a bloom
her rose-petal face cannot discern
His handsome design cannot descend
why there's no playfulness in this wilderness of love.

She asks if he seen his soul
He says he's stored it in a fairytale world
She succumbs to the bodily conversation
and he cries as he yearns no more

Tomar shathe ami
Tumi ki bhulete chao
eh jiboner bhalo theke
mitieh debo ekbar, ekbar bhalo theko...

So the concern is beautified
in the ultimatum of the end
where he desires to terminate body
she becomes a bloom deserted

Ekbar,
Ekbar,
Tumi jokhon thote thote kotha dhore nile
tumar jaan ki, bhujeti chai ne?
Bujheti paro nei ki norger jaan...

My fortress bleeds
it's blood is a lovely bloom
he sits quietly, decay is so real
she kisses the corpse-dream for it was present

Chai ami tomar buker dorja
Keno je tumar fuul amake dhore nilo shotru

She kisses
He kisses

Thote, Thote, agune
Hoye ghelo fuler jonmo...

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Inspired by Efadul Huq and Yoko Kanno, Hope you liked the song

Afternoon

This moment tearfully ascends
that you and I pretend
that we drink tea to soothe our pretends
likewise we engage in sex.

We need to believe
that summer is what she is
and winter is who he thinks
but I know, you, too well
it gets beyond comfort to ill-comfort

Why can't "I Love You"s seem easy as in plays
Why does "I Hate You"s seem so easily betrayed
Why does the sunlight seem to tease all the frays
and why do you smile when nothing ordinary walks away.

If I tell you now,
that this is heaven
there's no more
will you still love the love of habit?

Maybe I'm too consumed by dreams
but I want to know
I want to see
this gone moment be reprised into something new one day

Please tell me
That this noon will not go forgotten.
Please tell me
that I am, I am no longer a day.

No Virtue But Virtue

I will be your sin-clad lady
If you'll be my evolutionary man
I will be your royal stallion
If you will be my duchess sovereign.

Now why do I ask with my mouth smirking?
Breathing the air of elegance
When I become Narcissistic again
Please tell me, seal it with a kiss.

Now you wonder why I condemn
the whore to my jewels
it is only because he is ugly
when he sleeps with them
it is only that he stole her
when she couldn't wake up.

It is here that I walked
around and around
when I plucked off your flesh you cried
but I confessed I can do no wrong.

So please chain me with absolute nothings
kiss me as one does the goodbye-dream
I say I am the nightmare born
You call me a dream-designed for temporary.

So when I become your evolutionary sin, duchess royal
Don't tell me become pious
for I am the piety of the world
The world who needs controversy.

Those Evil Eyes

" Those Evil Eyes
Hasten
Hasten
Those Evil Eyes
Call
Call
Those Evil Eyes
Look
Look
Those Evil Eyes
Fall
Fall
Those Evil Eyes
Cry
Cry
Those Evil Eyes
Need
Need
Those Evil Eyes
Kill
Kill
Those Evil Eyes
They Do
They Do; what brings the ash
They Do: what brings the blood
For Evil Is Evil-Composed
And Evil Eyes Adhere to what it knows."

The Sin-Faced Innocence

" Methodically, she pries the tampered breast
ardently, unfazed in a nutshell's macabre:
deeply he breathes, chest on chest, tongue illuminates tongue
the sensual crime opens into the flood of curiosity.

Upon the grave of the lovers' remedies
he sips the blood-non-blood lustful action
then when she sees, she hides, it is in the art
An immediate work to drink one's own drink.

And The Birds of Eve and Day all talked
All seen in the light of prosperous calls
Then she knew, he soon learned
That the Janus was all but built into perfection."

The Man

When I had seen the Man on my day of birth I knew who he was and I decided to ask him why he wouldn't stop bothering even now, even now since the last germination.

Instead he smiled that evil smile and he decided to wait; it was not really an answer, or my assumption, but a wild-guess of not guessing wildly. I mean he just told me through the body. And, even with that infant flesh I knew what body meant, it meant soul-home and it was important. The body has significance. As the man, the man who knew me well.

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The Man followed me into kindergarden one day and surprised the teacher when he came and slapped me. The teacher screamed and all the children cried or just stood still or panicked or screamed as the teacher. All except me, the victim of the slap, the victim of the man.

The teacher told the man that she will call the police; the man smiled. I knew that meant he had an idea.

He touched my forehead. Then he kissed it. He kissed my cheek. My left one. Then my right. Then he kissed the right again.

He confessed his love for me. My teacher then ran towards us and seized me and slapped the man; telling him, berating him for his perversions.

The Man then smiled and suddenly took me away from her arms and kissed my right again. Then with a pocketknife he dug a deep line onto my face: my teacher screamed.

Then he put a banaid upon the deep injury and kissed my forehead again and said that he bled to and that it was important that I remember that. I nodded then I took the pocketknife and cut a lock of his hair.

His eyes widened and he slapped me saying that his hair was precious.

The teacher now told the other children to go and stay at the fair end as she dialed on her cellphone the number to the police.

The Man took the lock of hair and tried to shove it in my mouth. When the children saw all of them cried in fear. Some even vomitted.

But, I didn't swallow and said that he is he not I is he so he should swallow his hair to be complete. When he coughed out blood he realized my stubborness would win so he swallowed the hair.

When the police came with the medical personnel to see my wound; the blood was only stained upon the bandaid as I knew when he swallowed his hair.

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The day was afterwards very hot and humid as I laid naked upon the bed.

My friend came over and said that seventeen year olds shouldn't lay down naked with an open window nor else they deliver the wrong message but I wanted the message to be clean.

When the boy jumped into my room and spoke about dreams I looked at him bored. Then he asked if he didn't mind himself and gawk would it be alright? I still looked bored.

Then he sat on my bed and was careful not to touch me and asked if he can openly talk about masturbation. I got up from the bed and said that masturbation was a good topic to talk about as I went near my balcony and stood there, naked.

The Postman looked away, almost blindly, blushing and the other person, the philanderer, sported an evil eye then took off all his clothes as well and called out to me lovingly. I then decided to listen to the pleas of the boy saying it would be wrong to stand there at the moment. The Philanderer looked disappointed and jealous.

Then we continued our conversation about masturbation (in between he had spoken his pleas before); but, he stopped, with tears in his eyes stating he had desired physical love with his male cousin. He had also yearned a physical love with me but not only a physical love. He talked about self-pleasure because he wanted me to be sympathetic towards him,

I told him that was pathetic. I told him that was not funny.

He replied he knew that but he was so scared to talk about meaningful things. I told him sexuality was a meaningful subject but understood his meaning of meaningful; so, I questioned him why?

He replied that meaningful things meant torture as if I abandoned him, which he felt sure as his life, he would feel that I'm a roaming safe with his secrets and that would make him make love to his male cousin whom he hated.

He said he hated him now because he had kissed him, gave him flowers, then attempted to sex him with another man (the cousin included) for the enjoyment of a rather meticulous voyeur.

I told him who he loved and he said it was me.

The Man then came and undressed the shocked boy and kissed him. The Man touched his nakedness and said he was Africa's dawn. Then he pushed the boy aside and approached me and undressed himself.

He touched my breast. Then he touched his own chest. Then he spoke he wanted my virginity. I agreed and we had sex in front of the boy who looked frightened. Then he told me to swallow his hair or his eye or some body part. I laughed and said I was still a virgin and my body doesn't think of him as a person.

He got angry and threatened to have sex with the boy but I told him I would kill myself if he does that.

The Man vanished out the window and the boy cried confused.

I told him to get into bed with me and we did sleep that night on the same bed and he touched my lips and said I was lovely and I touched his lips and said he was Africa's dawn.

I fell asleep on his bronze shoulder and he upon my white face.

My parents were angered and complained to his parents.

Funny, he didn't ask of the Man

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When he asked me I was twenty-five and he was making love to another girl.

I told him that he must love me wholly to know and he answered that he did and that the Man and my parents had prevented him to be courageous enough for moreb interaction previously.

Then we talked, after that long period, about masturbation.

He said it was meaningful because the other girl was masturbation and not real sex or making-love-action. When I asked why he said because she was a dream and dreams are a part of oneself. He honestly confessed that she felt the same way too but was frightened to say it to him clearly until recently. They are the same pillows occupying someplace for a time. They agreed on it.

I told him how the Man had had sex with me twice on that day out of frustration and how we both enjoyed it somewhat.

When he asked why I explained that the man will die soon so he had finally given up but still gave a last chance that I would love him back enougb to become him again.

Then I asked him if he wished to be with me.

He answered yes.

So, we were up to my room and we undressed each other.

I touched my breast and asked if he liked them.

He smiled and said he did and that he loved me wholly.

But then I asked if he wanted me to be a man

Then I turned into the Man

He started breathing hard and asked why, what and who?

The Man came and rushed to me and ordered me to finally accept that he is I and I is he. But I became a again and told him that I don't want to begirl him, a murderer.

He then said that as he made me real from the doll, by transfering, flesh, skin, blood, bone and organ I should be him.

Then I told him that he had put me in the stranger's womb so the magic of narcisstic-love could work fully and it did and now the doll has become a person so she does not want to be him.

He revealed how he loved me as a doll so when he knew he was going to be murdered by his old love, because he had killed her old love, he decided to make me his new him and that he wanted to love himself as it was the best way to love anything.

I said that he was fool. I said he would die now.

He died then unable to live as the dreamed one. I became a doll again.

The boy held me and I told him through my mind to his how he must give me his blood and love to revive me.

But, he kept me in a closet for years.

Then he gave me what I wanted.

I realized then that we were not where we were.

Then the boy revealed that we were in an Oasis with desert people. He said he ran away with me and that he had killed his male cousin for his fortune.

I told him he did the right thing as his male cousin became a rapist.

Then we went off to another country. Living in a mansion. Where we make dolls at times.

These dolls become alive and one of them resembles the Man. I call him as the Man was once called before he became a murderer; he smiles as he says he is jealous of the boy who is really human unlike us.

We tell these dolls that they are our family. In the end the boy and I know that they are all just part of our narcissicism. But, we love them as family, their birth was that of our self-love.

When I'm alone.

I see the doll in me

In the way the Man saw me for the first time.

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A story Inspired by Efadul Huq and recent conversations between my family and friends, more specifically my brother and my friends.

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