If this was my last poem…

If this was my last poem, I should suffer immeasurably. I'd wake late in the day- there'd be nothing in the early light of collective awakening to record in cursive letters. I'd eventually lose my sight for irony and ecstasy in the mundane, then life would be perfectly uninteresting. The ream of used printer paper recycled for blotted...

Twin beds

I lost my dreams in between these mattresses we share. The gap is pressed against my spine and I wake up feeling disjointed. Sensory elusion, recession at this gorge-made of bed sheet- marking our sleep, where dead cells accumulate. Vertical blinds open at one slat allow light through without interference to light the room in...

Spread the word

Though symmetry can be pleasing to the eyes asymmetry can grab all your senses.   An informal ode to an uncharacteristic love I wrote, in quiet symmetry of love and loss, About the ineptitude of wisdom's foresight. One hears and sees but does not learn until one crosses The path littered with shattered hopes. A...

Becoming a Mother these days

She believed she didn't want to be one. Her life focussed on work, on the run. At an earlier point she might have done The needful (if it had worked) but fate it seemed had none Such intentions. So she shunned The idea of a daughter or a son. Her heart forced to be hard...

A sonnet for Jasmine

A budding of white with green stalk so soft Like fetal fingers of a garden nymph Tiny drops of nurture push aloft The gentle scent creating soothing symph- -ony. Blooms reveal loudly notes in harmony To dress a maiden's song, to chant ancient Prayers in chains framed for gods, formally Presented. Bushes as aromatic bastions...

Lost & Found

‘To lose one’s identity’ suggests that There must have been a sort of ownership Of self; a belonging to a band, a race, A brand; a categorized face constantly Possessed, framed to play a part on a screen. The more one thinks the boundaries shrink, to Reveal: being labeled worsens The sense of one; a...

The Do that I Do that I Do so, well?

My café au lait which is too foamy for its own good sits hissing by the side while I silently waste my time on Twitter to find out what's more important than Djokovic winning the Australian Open. People are sharing their blogs, inspirational quotes and there are other bits and bobs on there which on...

Letter to Googlers who happened upon my blog

Dear Google searcher aka Googler I usually don't get to see what brought you to my blog. You have strict privacy settings and I only get to stare into the abyss of 'Unknown search terms', trying to decipher your intentions. Then there are days when something quite extraordinary happens: I finally get to see your trail...

Songwriting

You are a songwriter you say, Leaded pencil in hand for graphite thoughts - Noting notating circumambulated rhymes, Dotting auditory pixels in meters. You write, a verdant song - Creeping bougainvillea of words To adorn an idealistic wall - For a spacious voice, With room for dimensionality? Why not sing me your song, songwriter? The...