I fall in love

like my heart is a motel room

lover after lover takes up residence

and then leaves me with shattering pieces


I fall in love

for all the wrong reasons

because they are mean to me

I love that they don’t give a damn

because they are kind to me

I love that they care at all

I like the ones who don’t like me at all

and I like the ones who like me too much


I like mean boys, the dangerous ones

who don’t give me a second thought

they don’t care about my feelings

but god they make me feel alive

they’re adventure and risk

and all that this universe has to offer

and I’m a sucker for the great unknown


I like kind boys, the vanilla ones

I eat up their shreds of concern

like a hungry dog gobbles food

blue eyes blonde hair

I need a little good after all the bad

they heal me after the mean ones destroy me

I tell them everything

spill all my secrets out of open wounds

but eventually it gets boring

you can have only so much vanilla

before you want a taste of the devil’s chocolate

my plastered heart is ready for another round



I go back to the mean ones

on their motorbikes

with their black leather jackets

stopping by my motel

with charm and good looks

as their only payment for the night

at first it’s a schoolgirl’s crush

until it just gets worse


I don’t seem to know what’s good for me

or rather who’s good for me

I’ll never find a mean one who cares enough and

I’ll never find a kind one who’s dangerous enough


I’ll just be left with

my boys and my memories

ghosts at my lonely altar

no one to really call my own.


Originally posted on The Sehrish Thing

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Inseparable by Mark Tulin

    (Sketch by Alice Tulin) Originally posted in, Crow On The Wire.

Partners in canvas                                                                                                           


The model and the artist                                        Light and shadow                                                                                                                         

Lines straight and curved                                                                                                          Intertwined

Silent and stationary        

Energies commingled
into many sweeping

and respectful strokes of the brush.

The artist seated at the easel,
the model unclothed in recline.

Frenemies and frengers

Originally posted on my blog Dreams. Do visit!!!!


Friends are the ones-

Who betray:


Friends are the ones;

Read more

Who go away-

When they’re needed the most;


Friends are the ones

Who don’t know what’s friendship;


‘Friends’ aren’t friends:

I wonder who are,

Frenemies and frengers.

I wonder what do-

Frenemies and frengers do…


I can’t catch Sleep; she’s afraid
that to be with me would fail.
“No rest for the wicked,” it is said.
And, you just walked into this tale.

“There’s enough time to sleep,”
Said Robin, “when you’re dead!”
Now Sleep is afraid to even peep.
Since you’re here now, instead.

I can’t tell you when I’d rest.
It’s a game of hide-and-seek.
I’ve hidden, though it’s now best
that I let my ink just speak.

For how can I, a dream pursue?
There’s plenty in this reality too.

~Pramodh Iyer, a Poet at Ω The Equilibrium Of Life Ω