not-poetry #16

In English we say:
I miss you from the bottom of my heart.

In insta-poetry we say:
I miss you
From the
Bottom of
My heart

Late-Night Thoughts #82

My heart woke me up
In the dead of the night
Crying for help


As I was about to ask
What I can do to make
Things better for him, the

brain intervened and said, “Switch off the damned phone and go — the hell — to sleep.”

Is Love Blind?

When people say that
Love is blind
I find the statement errant
You can see that it is
Simply not true
On further assessment

Blind is actually a person with severe visual impairment

Real Art

In a room full of art
In a museum full of artefacts
I’d have my eyes on you
And only you

Because you’d be either walking around with your fingers in your nose or stumbling over and breaking something priceless or both

Eat Together

In a schedule packed
With chaos and rush
Sharing a meal with you
Is perhaps the most
Peaceful part of my day

Especially when you are hooked to your phone and I am to mine

Self-Illuminating Love – II

Beautiful, radiant and bright
You glow, golden and white
Twinkling like the stars in sight
You love with a lustrous might

Surrounded by your constant light
It’s getting hard to sleep at night

Music to my Ears

When I first met you
I had no idea that
You would bring so much
Euphony into my life

Every word you speak
Every syllable you utter
Is music to my ears

Jarring, dragging and ear-shattering

I Am Here

If you need a shoulder to cry
I am here

If you need a mouth to converse
I am here

If you need an ear to listen
I am here

If you need an arm to hold
I am here

If you need some space
Well um then I am not here

That’s a Stretch

You have a big heart
For a reason

Inflated by the pressure
Of trying to contain
An overweight lover within

Then There Were None

Ten men out to dine, soon they were down to
nine; nine men lost their head, one of them
dropped dead; eight men left to fight, now
they were a man light; seven men
decided to play, one fellow ran
away; six men crossed the
road, one of them
got bored; five
men took
a
boat,
one of
them couldn’t float;
four men jumped in
a sea, out came only
three; three men picked a card,
one guy cried hard; two men had
no clue, one of them lost his shoe;
one man wept alone, turned into a dry stone;
oh the poem is done for then there were none