TULIP
You hold a tulip in your hand,
And look up the ceiling.
I giggle at your face,
And find me kneeling!
I bite my tongue, I bite my lips,
Some sweetened breath is surely amiss.
Elixir poured on my bosom,
Holds a candle to a bottle of rum!
Your veins throb,
You smirk a smile.
You might leave,
But it'll take a while!
All this burning romance,
And you still stand aloof.
My heart burns into an ember,
Honey, are you so damn fireproof?
FALSE LOVE
Your body is a church.
I confess all my sins in it.
Your name is a whispered sigh,
I heave with a forbidden tint in it.
Your kisses are crusades
Against my sane chastity.
And your grasp does persuade,
My corpus for some promiscuity!
This love, honey, is lechery,
The highest form of treachery.
When your eyes turn water into wine,
And she ensnares you but you call me thine.
Your claims are commandments,
No Moses can adhere to.
If false love would be a religion,
Your face would appear true.
But I'm a Hindu
And I'm not a sinner, baby.
I'm a sage
With Shiva's rage.
So, I hope your Rati brings you back to life.
Because you and I will always have a strife.
VIOLENCE FOR LOVE
These pangs of violent urges,
A ghetto of a heart.
No victims unwilling,
No Jews to tear apart.
This heartache for a holocaust,
The weapon of an eye.
All hard means of escape,
No one brave enough to try.
A poison of an affection,
A burning golden star,
A mind full of scorpions,
That only stings from afar.
I revel in this rage,
An attempt to purify.
I’ll have your heart on a plate,
No agony does it justify.
Surrender to this might,
Your being can’t survive.
This genocide is regal, my love.
This is where I thrive!
Mansi Udawat has a postgraduate degree in English from the University of Rajasthan, Jaipur. She indulges in poetry writing whimsically and her love for literature extends to war based novels and British literature, genres that fuel her creative spirit. Mansi is also an equestrian, who believes in living literature to its fullest potential.
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