in the trillion cells across your body

you define and forge what I am,

in your thoughts, in your heart

like a ghost taking shape-

And how do I define you

my gone dreams butterfly,

spreading wings far

for you cannot be a cocoon again

once you learned to fly.

You are a voice, a gate

to all the wishes that men

quietly throw to the wind,

you are the words

I wished to scribbled within

to keep locked inside

warming my coldest winter-

You are mine,

alone I can hold you forever

in my skin, where you hide

to become but a dream,

only I can define-


“I heard the breeze whisper your name to the trees. And the flowers giggled smiling at the leaves. I and my loneliness keep talking about you.”

― Avijeet Das






I will hide your love

like a buried treasure

deep in the sand

by the lonely shore

where I waited once-

I will keep it safe

closer to the waves

and I’ll draw a map

scribbled on my heart

so I won’t forget

how it was before,

I will hide your love

by the lonely shore-


“What we spend, we lose. What we keep will be left for others. What we give away will be ours forever.” ― David McGee





You flourish,

petals open softly at night

welcoming desires I scribble under eyelids

heavily dragging  dreams close to midnight-

And I hold on to whatever is that incite

my mind to shape these mirrors reflecting

the amazing you I crave to know,

discovering the intricacies infecting

my cells with this longing

that suffocates in my bed-

Would you dream of me this once?

Allow me to find shelter for my wants

in those places you set apart

for those who touched your soul

while I sift through words

to find you, belonging

within the walls of my heart-


“The heart has its reasons which reason knows not.”

― Blaise Pascal





I’m stranded in your words

willfully suffocating ‘tween the softness

for I hold my breath with every rhyme

and feel my pulse race to the finish and climb

every nerve along my body.

May I call you mine?

Only in dreams will I ever find you,

your shape unique among the shadows

that plague my restlessness.

I beg you, let me follow

the traces of love left behind

by your heart sad and broken,

let me patch every crack with my words

when the verses are spoken

in the sound of the waves by the sea-

And I promise eternity

only in words may again live forever

in your hands if you knew

all the beauty I sustain deep within.

Let me laid by the warm of your hearth

I will silently watch you

catching dreams dropped neglected

by your hands smudged with ink.

Let me stay by your side for a moment

and I promise eternity

in the waves roaring loud in my oceans

amidst winds blowing hard to the south

 across skies painted blue


“In this story

I am the poet

You’re the poetry.”

― Arzum Uzun

A Wounded Bird


A Wounded Bird


Shapes of dark feathers perfectly aligned

against the sky marked a path south

where winter’s lips coldly kiss the clear night-

And your eyes tell me it is time

to spread wings and plan your flight

to new horizons where summer’s heat

will match your wish for freedom

while left behind in a drouth

of dreams a goodbye kiss-

And cold approaching fast reminds me

a promise made some time ago

when kisses fresh the excitement fed

in moments perfect for each other

and hoped my arms help you forget

a golden cage left open-

But now your eyes will look away

into a place your heart will hold

whereas my arms so frail and old

cannot embrace what you now seek,

so spread your wings

my wounded bird I will not speak

but let you go

to summer days awaiting you

while here I’ll stay in winter’s cold-


This poem was inspired by a dream. Dark hair tied into a bun, pale skin, pensive eyes she looked towards the sky where the birds flying south left a longing in her eyes. I knew then I needed to let her go. I woke up feeling sad with a sense of loss.

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”

― Leonardo da Vinci





Fleeting wish to capture and keep you

my beautiful butterfly

wild and free among the blossoms,

I dream to lure you away from a majestic life

into my eager hands

selfishly hiding you from others

to touch your wings

and smear your colors of desire

all over my soul-


“She is like a butterfly,

Beautiful to look at

But hard to catch.”

― Nikki Rowe

In Pursuit of a Muse



In Pursuit of a Muse


There is only so much I can draw from my pail

draining words that exist on my tongue

and emotions alive in my heart,

then, where muse shall I find you again?

If attempts to recapture may fail

in the passing illusions

and my fingers are numbed and stained

from the ink of another’s delusion

who like me only dreams

among words that remained-

Will I find you in the love of a stranger?

Tell me how to draw out all this passion

trapped inside, when it screams

to let out in the words

that my tongue won’t pronounce,

how will I recognize that is you

if I draw from my soul

and the pail becomes empty-

Will I ever regress and renounce

this desire for a muse that does burn?

Tell me again if in death I will learn

and my need will subside

or forever to bleed my desires

in the ink of a fool that must write

while condemned to the fires of hell-


“I am no writer. Her sparkling eyes made my fingers write words in the sand. Her radiant smile made my pen write words in the air. Her beautiful soul made my typewriter type poems for eternity. I am no writer.”

― Avijeet Das