The Broken Claypot

The Broken Claypot, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

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i love a woman
who is my nirvana

my moksh

she deactivates
my right to live

my existence
she chokes

its true
i dont
know her

she is a blossom
i am merely
an old oak

absorbed
in her thoughts
i soak

my hands tied
behind my back

to write this poem
i awoke
without fire
can there be
any smoke


going back to sleep
my love she calls a hoax

heartless
she is scared
she is nervous
an inbox
full of jokes

her flesh
is unwilling
her spirit
i poetically
stroke

a soundless
echo in a
clay pot
is what my
love evokes

a clay pot
she accidentally
broke