Joint Intoxication 2.

Tic tac tic tac,
there is orange,
there is mint,
none matters.

Joint Intoxication 1.

One in green, one in blue.
Both with cigarettes,
through the liquidy glass.
Music aside.

Cyclone Mahasen, the approaching hope.

Mahasen, 
Oh Mahasen! 
Would you mind sweeping away the armies
who haunt in the night,
who brought the plight.

Hit them in the head
with your huge drops of water
when they take off their helmets,
those fucked up helmets they wore
to protect their tiny fucked up heads,
while tackling the summer heat,
while avoiding the uniform rules.

Or rather wash away the whole town,
this fucked up dark lonely town,
bereft of electricity, delicacy, accuracy,
adequacy, concurrency, coherency, democracy.....

Anyways, you cant make it worse.
                       

                                                   -a21yearoldfrustratedhuman.

Zombie Apocalypse Haiku

Zombies zombies all around.
Not a single human being can be found.
Apocalypse.






-Dedicated to the whole world, my place in particular, Manipur (the lost name: kangleipak)

Forget-me-not

I do not know,

I do not know,

While I perch on this branch,

Why do I gaze at the other branch

that protrudes out at the opposite side?

With this big fat vulture on my left,

yawning from time to time,

I am engulfed halfway through

Without ever its knowledge.

I do not know

I do not know

If the other side is bright and blue,

As I always imagined it’d be.

I am too exhausted to build the nest,

to search for the needed twigs.

To behold the invisible colorful metropolitan upper middle class bitch,

Running around the streets all day, barking at every passers-by,

with hardly any sound coming out,

frustrates me more and more.

Oozing out of my mouth,

is the mixture of ingredients,

purging out, pushing its way through.

I want to wake up at that other side

Where I don’t have to worry about the bullets

nor the nights, where I can frantically express myself,

puffing out several smoke rings, with lots of brownies and muffins

and thangjing, and ooti, and chagempomba.

One thursday in November 2000.

Arrival of AFSPA-

armies, guns, bullets, bombs, suspicions, killings, deaths, roar of cries, widows, orphans, widowers, rapes, molestations, bomb blasts, sound of gun shots, massacre etc. etc. etc.

 dreams, hope, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, homes, dignity, citizenship, rights, justice etc. etc. etc.

Day 1.  Hunger strike began (november 2, 2000)

Day 2. Still continuing.

Day 3. No, she hasn't eaten anything still.

Day 4. No, not even a single morsel.

Day 5. Counting

Day 6. Counting.

Day 7. Counting.

Day 8, day 9, day 10, 11, 12, 13………………………

Accused her of committing suicide. Threw her in the jail.

(yes, the armies have the right to kill her, but she doesn’t have the right to kill herself)

This is their story, this is their logic.

In the meantime,

if you remember she is still fasting, still starving.

The days are still counting……….365, 366, 367……………

700, 701, 702, 703……………………………………………………..

2000, 2001, 2002, 2003……………………………………………..

4000, 4001, 4002………………………………………………………

She is our inexorable eche sharmila.

She is a human being. She has a stomach, she gets thirsty, she gets hungry, she wants to live.

I'm Coming Back In a Month.

Dried black nail polish from my fingers,

Scattered all over
the white paper.


Scarlet blood

gushing out of 'leihao'
torments the navel.