The First

The movies have lied to me
there weren't sparks or fireworks
and I didn't feel like I was floating.
There was no moment of clarity,
and my heart kept on beating.

But there was the dark
and the soft sheets
and your smell that reminds me of summer.

And your weight
and your tongue that almost choked me
And that moment when you said,
"Spread your legs"

and I did.
  • Current Mood
    sick sick


Little sister in a red hood
eyes like raindrops
shaded by felt and the trees
swinging your basket of winter apples.
Ignore the hungry eyes.
Skip, sing, forget
and let the breeze curl up
in the tangle of your hair
whisper under your skirt.
Don't listen to the panting or
the groans, avoid soft footprints in the dirt.
Amble on through the branches that hang lower
the further you go, crowned with gray crumbling mold.
Don't jump, don't move, don't make a sound
pick another berry and hold it on your tongue.
Pretend you can't feel the breath
hot, damp and wanting, on your neck.

Run little sister, run like a rabbit
with the scent of blood on its nose.
Don't look back, weave through the trees
keep his hands away and don't rest
until the oakwood cottage is in sight.
And should your red hood snag on a thorn,
wriggle free, you were bound to lose it anyway.
  • Current Mood
    confused Calm


What dark path
Might you lead me down?

Where the way isn't clear
And there are rocks?

Where your promises
Lead to open fields

Black against the sky,
And the scent of your

Skin, always on the air?

Drunken Waves

You're a drunk.
and you never come home.
where the hell'd you think you'd end up?

not satisfied, that's for sure.
not where you should be, that's for sure.
oh what'd you really think would happen

you're a wreck.
you're a drunk.
should've known the waves would come and bring you down.
lost at sea.
no way home.
and that undertow just won't give up.

what're you gonna do now
that you're alone.
you got no one left to take you home.

no one to hold.
and you're broke.
you think how'd it ever get this bad.

not satisfied, that's for sure.
not where you should be, thats for sure
oh how'd you really think this would go?

you're a wreck
you're a drunk
should've known the waves would come and bring you down
lost at sea
no way home
and that undertow just won't let up.

so go ahead
have another drink
you know it's gonna rinse the pain
but don't you expect me to stay
cause i just can't watch you fade away

well, you're a wreck
yeah, you're a drunk
you should've known those waves would come and bring you down.
now you're lost at sea
no way home
and this undertow just won't give up.

well, you're a drunk
and you never come home
so where the hell'd you think you'd end up


I don’t think I know us anymore.

Who are we now?

You and I?



Blood spilled?

Obliteration incarnate?


Who are we now?

Blood and muscle and bone

Contained in separate packages?


Oh sure,

Parts of us combined.

Our hearts, for example.


But who are we now?

I don’t think I know us anymore.

I wonder if I ever said your name


Without thinking I could change you

Into something good for me.

Something less painful.


I don’t know who you anymore.

Who the fuck are you?

And where are we now?



From where we wanted to be,

I guess. I’m wondering


If we ever wanted to be there at all.

And if not, I suppose

We have nothing to fear now.


(no subject)

alone in your garden of embers
I wait for you under the stars

flickering in my pulsating passion
and listening to my every fiber hum

I wait for you under the big dipper
my skin painted in your aroma still.


(no subject)

We bounced in the bed of the pickup

Clutching the buckets we grabbed from the kitchen,

Yelling to each other over the roar of the engine
And t
he whistle of the wind.

The raspberries were ripe for the picking,

Or so he had said.

The truck pulled to a stop and we noticed her lack of shoes

I gave her mine and crawled back into the bed

He followed close behind.

Tangled in each other we watched as butterflies drifted lazily by

Dancing through the air, and kissing the red trillium.

We spoke of things we had yet to understand.

That’s when it happened, I was barely 13.

And let myself be swayed,

His sister’s scream cut through the heat,

And saved me from the sin I nearly committed.

The snake was gone with the moment, as my

Raspberry lover gathered the day’s spoils

And returned to the truck, forgetting

His sad eyed conquest.

the flight of the phoenix part1

While traveling I disguised myself as a resident of the places I traveled. It had been hard for I had the marks of being a Bengali all over, so adopted a story of someone trying his luck at their provinces for job and a place to stay. It brought out results quite different. Those parts are safe and smooth like anywhere in the world if you have money and you are tourists, they respect tourists. But I wanted to know what a tourist won’t.
Curious for more…
The flight of the phoenix
(the part-1, beginning)
A fusion of sounds roams to and fro,-
upon the pavilion of people,
this is the station,- the crispy voice
of the announcer has just claimed that the
train is late by an hour. Swarming
frustrations buzz around a waiting room.
Heat. Sweat. A slowly leaning head of
an alien girl upon a shoulder
she thinks will support her forever.

Hallucination is like the rails
seem to meet at the end, over them
night is sitting, gossiping with sparrows.
An hour may decide a relationship.
© 2008 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar

(no subject)

arms locked out in front of me
stop me from crashing into you.
legs on overdrive under me
run me right into the ground
and this gravitational pull
is always reeling me back to you. 

hand on the rewind button
don't let go until you get back to the start
lips suctioned on the bottle of beer
don't stop drinking until you get back to the start.
and this swirling field of fears
is drenching me in shades of blue

back twisted into a thousand braids
ache when i breathe in too deep
head tangled into a hundred knots
ache when i breathe out too long
i built this rollercoaster from the beginning
creaking and swaying ever since
and this ride thats cost me so much
is turning my stomach into a hurricane

i cover up the bitemarks you left me.
but i still feel all the bruises you smeared on my skin.

Shaken but not down

Shaken but not down

Pale souls seek personal caves,
for today is the day of sun.
A Saturday crowd is on their
way to shake off a memory.
They have come home early.
Now at the parks, paths, malls, movies
and wherever their family
has asked they are playing. With the kids.
With the life. With the thoughts. With the
locks of their love. Now they know how
transitory life is. Specially
as the sound of the Friday bomb
is still ringing in the country.
© 2008 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar