Latest Poetry
In the company
It was at a party – at night I watched the stars drink, dance, dream eyes awake soft music played the wind. Friends, they could be guests I must have held some hands stars hung beside the moon the sky became the room I was a little high. Woke up late drowsy still in trance on the floor remembered how I danced I stole myself out with shoes in my hand stories in my mind ...
some small poems
trees from the desktop witness deforestation *** sunshine on the canvas in the child’s smiles *** waves crying on the beach rain in the child’s eyes *** dust-bath of sparrows bird-bath waits for monsoon *** food-wastes drain the tongue of a weeping urchin *** ...
To Jess
Je ne regrette rien? Huh ...
Not Letting Go.
...
Deep in the wood
I think this speaks for itself ...
Pen to paper
Floating in the mind are stories to pen emotions of unnoticed ladies and gentlemen meandering, looking out for leaves embrace them all, without motives, malice. Their skin, kith and kin, to matter least patient pages like earth, to drink the ink at ease no questions asked, no judgements passed fables of colorful days, simply present from the past. Once written off, where will the yarns lead in the lifeless shelves or in the lively read ...
Retelling
Lines do not come from me they do, through me, says Rumi*. Yes I know we steal the tune in every day and night to prune with or without the witness of the stars rises and falls, lies in our hearts comes out as words, humming breeze in seconds, as thousand memories touch the leaves or the flute as fruits flowing deep, from the roots. Verses that give us a hand mimicking the message of ...
Bumping Into Katy Near The Doctor’s
an imaginary meeting - a triste tryst? ...
Alluring Absence
...
two small poems
Dead-and-alive Verses on pages fall beyond rehearse as reserves in thoughts progress, reverse lines lie dead like writers’ hearse, revealed and alive by healing readers. Gears Eyes and ears are drivers of a kind hands that compose through light and sound as organs they nest inside the mind to chirp the tale of what is around ...
Take an apple break
My cell has become my cell but worse is desktop, I can tell I have ceased to breathe free to be under a winsome tree in garden of flowers and fruits to retrieve my fading roots. Nature I see on screen but the one that’s out serene I ignore to see and smell this weakens every cell I run tad out of breath waste my time at length. The techs are not so bad they ...
Goddess in Distress
One from me book of pomes ...
It’s Been A Good Day
poem ...
Sizzling Symphony
On the terrace, on a lazy Sunday morning, as I stand breathing petrichor, with an approaching storm, my attention suddenly gets diverted, hearing a faint whistle. What happens next? Image: Gomathi Mohan ...