Wednesday, May 28, 2008

love poems
speak to me
a language
long forgotten.
is it wisdom
or cynicism
that make me
or bitterness
brewed out of
the sweet potion
of love?

Monday, May 26, 2008

A Tribute to the God of Small Poets

write atleast
two lines a day
read read
read even
the most unread
then beautify
filched lines
and thoughts.

seriously, even
when you grin
you look a poet
from head to toe
and in this country of
poets and demigods
you are swathed by
a whirl of
incense smoke
though many people
would fail to notice
your voice muffled
by whisky and
music irresistible!

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

the girl
who talked
nonstop was
an adult now
towing the
silence of words,
of woods unknown
And memories
like the vision,
seen through
a film of tears,
There yet
not there.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

A greater part of me
died a natural death
living a normal life
cushioned with a job
loving kids as a normal
mother does on normal days
teaching them the
bare essentials of life,
alphabets, numbers
and good manners
telling them a fairy tale
a willed erasure of turmoil
that tag along with tales for kids
shooing them when they
squeal ‘shit’ with glee
and gloat over the forbidden
wait for the work every morning
with those punctualities
which hardly come by and seep
into my shell tanned and
licked by books and the tropical sun
not so humble a scribe
looking out to find tarmac
taper into the greens
which rise as hills in the
near horizon, clouded by dreams
and melancholy that
foddered muse
once upon a time.
once upon a time?
Often fairy tales
tell you the violence of your
not being a "sleeping" beauty
or a Cinderella whose
delicate toes could "fit in"-
to live and love ever after?
a prelude to unhappiness
from surfeit of happiness?
burdened by bodies
and metaphors
in tales and real life
don’t I need those illusions
of a perfect household
to cage my so-called free soul?


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