Poetry

The American White Dream, As alluring as it is amnesic. It starts with innocent aspirations, With childlike vividness at its peak. Next thing you know, You wake up to reality, In which you solely serve the Damned, The Dollar and the Man. The tragedy is that you are aware there was a dream, You simply…

So long ago, I’m not so sure if it was real or a dream. At Station Mole, it’s easy to burrow the internal scream. Subterranean nightmares, I wonder how much it affects me. I was so young and agreeable, I didn’t resist. It wasn’t too painful, nor did it persist. I knew it was wrong,…

Barista of Beauty, So much more than the mere Supply of espresso delight. She is rather a boundless piece of art, Of which one glance transfers me To the realm of the Divine Latte, Whose aroma of invigorating steam Seduces me into a serene dream of caffeine. The most stimulating part of the day, Such…

Shundori Latte I rise with you in my mind, For a night’s rest wakes me withdrawn From that body of fragrance of which one inhale Could cleanse the palate of any man, But this blend is specifically for me, Handpicked by the Goddess Voluptuous And roasted in the flames of the fruit of passion, Mishti…

As the sun begins to rise,  I hold on tighter in attempt to keep her by my side.  But she rips me off and leaves me without purpose. I am nothing without her. Darkest are the hours when the day begins, For lifelessly alone I lay. Sometimes unkept, other times in shape. When she arrives…