The genie

I was sure I had bottled up
The genie,
and closed the lid shut tight,
Wary of being granted my wishes,
but always with a twist,
I promised myself I shall not ask.

Oh, how foolish was I,
she escapes every night,
the astral apparition,
comes dancing riding the clouds,
moonlight streaming from her hair,
dew drops dangling from her eye lashes,
lips soft like rose petals,
fingers like a painter’s soft brush,
she caresses.

Her breath like a soft breeze,
scented celestial, sensuous,
Softly I moan and try to embrace her,
to hold her tight to my chest,
my body burning with desire.

Gently she wiggles out and coos in my ears,
how dare you bottle up your heart,
and keep me away,
As I lament
another wasted night.

Strange World of Internet

We live in a world where more and more we communicate through social media and our passing away may be noticed only when our fingers stop posting.

Strange World of Internet

Pressed for time
Days pass by
We don’t talk
We don’t call
All the time
Our fingers fly
They now do
All the talking
Eyes fixed on
The screen upfront
We make friends
All over the world
Anonymous
Hidden in the cloud
Our circle grows
Thrive for Likes
Wait for comments
With bated breath
Words of encouragement
Make our day
We pour our hearts
To unseen friends
Parallel universe we live in
Existence defined by
User names and tag lines
What we post
On our screens
One day fingers
Will be tired
Our posts will
Become infrequent
Till they fall silent
Our unseen friends
Will wonder
Traffic will diminish
Then stop
On screen identity
Still alive
But we are gone
What a strange
World of Internet
We live in