Decades turning right and turning left
into dead ends
between four cold walls.

Drowning in my own spit
suffocating in my own air
beautiful existence rotting
into a miserable curse.

Once a week I smile
and you snap a picture
telling every body
I am enjoying my life
more than ever before.

The crowd cheers
as my heart aches,
their joy is blinding
to the tears I shed
into this tiny pool.


What is poetry?

I am baffled…
How can poetry be classified
and judged in objective terms?

Is it the words that make the poem
or is it the emotion behind it?

For me, the therapeutic effect
is all that I seek
and every poem I write
serves that purpose
and is intrinsically valuable.

Yet to a reader who seeks solace
and finds none
judges poetry to be bad,
with his bitter after taste
laying on his untouched tongue.

Thus, poetry can be like philosophy
a way of living
a way of looking at things
and every judgement made on any poem
is simply an expression
of the relation between
the reader and the interpretation of the text.


Click The A to Z of You and Me to check out my poetry book/collection

Hamster Wheel

A new semester begins
the same cycle
all over again.

First day
each student looks like a victim
of a humiliating public beheading.

Demoralised hamsters
running and spinning
on the same old wheel,
remaining in a fixed spot.

The future seems distant and bleak,
all this running is exhausting
and we are reaching nowhere –
we are only getting slimmer.

Stay focused
keep running,
they are saying that the finish line
is quite near.


Check out the details of my  Poetry Book: The A to Z of You and Me

Marching Feet

An emperor penguin
elected as the new leader
of the Antarctic region.

Other species of penguins delighted,
their voices were going to be heard.

They cry in fear of the dangers their homes face
a mysterious force
breaking off glaciers
one by one.

On his first week
the new ruler denied rumours
that glaciers were even moving,
so he transferred all the penguins
to the farthest region
where cold waves
crush the edges of ice they meet.

the penguins felt betrayed
they marched together with their
tiny unhappy feet
to protest the unjust insanity,
screaming into the emperor’s deaf ears.

As they were about to lose hope,
the animal kingdom created an alliance –
the seals clapping to motivate and support,
the whales destroying any trade towards the palace,
the albatrosses stealing luxuries
to deliver to the abandoned penguins.

The penguins moved towards the safer inlands
as they kidnap the greedy emperor
and banishing him onto the edge of the glacier
that is breaking off into an iceberg
sailing into uncharted seas.


More information available on my poetry book –> The A to Z of You and Me


Today every person is an expert,
I hear unsympathetic chatter
stating humans have total control
over all our actions.

It reminds me of the years that I was depressed
and I cannot count all the times
that I felt oppressed by my emotions.

I had no choice but simply to be,
I could not control the overbearing apathy.

I tried to become a strong-willed warrior
that fights off any demon within,
but the demons are not soldiers
they are witches that curse you
witches that control the way you think and feel.

As if I was controlled by a voodoo doll,
I tossed my shield away
and used the sharpest blade
to stab myself
over and over and over again.

I refuse to claim responsibility
for wrecking my soul, body and mind,
I was a passenger in the driver’s seat
but the vehicle was on auto-pilot.

You stand before me
judging the actions that surface,
and I look at you, in pity.

I may have been numbed by crippling depression,
but you are being directed by ignorance
into a dead-end of dumb ideas and a meaningless life.



You can find more information  about my collection of love poems on Poetry Book: The A to Z of You and Me

The Contemporary Sculptor

The mother sees herself
as an artist who bred
life-sized sculptures.

They are all grown up,
yet she remains possessive,
binding them to be eternally grateful to her,
as if she was a goddess
who chose to bless them every day.

Obliged they are
day by day,
to appear happy,
to portray that sense of beauty and magic
that the artist tried to convey.

However, times come
that this feeling is not true,
and the ingenuity of the smile
creates a dichotomy
between the self and the sculpture.

An abyss is created,
separating the two realms,
sending off the self completely into oblivion,
so that the statue remains
with a loss of identity.

One of the three sculptures
managed to break the curse,
and instead of having his spirit crushed,
the son emerged as the victor,
demolishing the materialistic exterior.

Now the mother is broken,
baffled at how she could not remain
as the sculptor forever.

She could not grasp the fact,
that she had imprisoned her own children
into their own suffocation.

As they breathe,
she drowns,
into an ocean of guilt,
blaming herself
for all the scars
that they had



My Poetry Collection can be found on The A to Z of You and Me


Your Last Words

You are long gone and
I am left in a barren desert
accompanied by distorted memories

and I know it is unjust
that I can only remember
those few words
even if they were not
your last words.

They resonate within me
as if my mind was a hollow cave
which echoes of a pup’s anguished howl,
and I do not blame you
for speaking that way.

I can only recall that one scene –
you told me to cut off
my luscious hair
because it was too long for a boy,
because “You look like a sissy”.

Deep within
I try to assert myself
that it would not matter if
I had told you I was gay

I attempt to rationalise
to insist,
you sought to protect me
from words of bullies in the form of
emasculation in an all-boys school.

My uncertainty is an unquenchable thirst,
a repetitive investigation of
the purpose behind those few words,
and I did not get the chance to tell you
the way I felt
or the way I am

because you were gone way too soon
and all I have left is memories
that I try to reconstruct
to avoid deconsecrating
your image I hold dearly –
a woman remarkably graceful and kind.


One is able to find out more information about my poetry collection here: The A to Z of You and Me

Bound To Loyalty

Like a dog on a tight leash
bound to its master,
I have spun around the tiny room
that I am constrained to.

Only now I have realised
that I have been chained,
after seeing you paralysed
when you got coiled
by the leash you put around my neck.

I wonder to myself
how this happened to be.

You cannot bear
a day without my presence,
and like a devoted dog
I feel blessed that you dread
the idea of losing me.

Feel assured when I say,
I recognise your scent from miles away.
If either of us ever got lost
in a sea of crowds,
I promise to follow the trail
until I am by your side again.


If you liked this poem,
feel free to check out info
about my poetry collection

The A to Z of You and Me

Victim of War

I was once just a little boy
innocent and of pure intentions.

Only difference between me and angel
where the lack of fancy wings and halo.

Until the war came along –
I heard loud bangs on the closet.

The door cracked and I could see
a replicated me on the inside.

A never ending fight of who is the one
to control my behaviours.

The little boy tried to chain
those things that made me gay.

But the gay guy in me got fed up
of being tortured and abused.

A force beyond spirituality broke the chains
and the boy got stabbed in his puny heart.

The guy in the closet won
convinced that he would be forever free.

Yet, everyday he is haunted
by the guilt of the murder scene.


Check out my poetry book The A to Z of You and Me