Sunday, July 31, 2016

Awaiting

And in the darkness
breathes a dream 
of a flickering light. 

'crammed in emptiness',
Awaiting.





Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Remembrance

I watched her pick 
fragments, of once a vivacious
heart, solemnly, s l o w l y,
lifting a tear stained gaze
once in a while beckoning him, 
pehance waiting for 
these pieces to magically 
assemble in a dream.

"We'll always have Paris"
She consoles long solitary nights.

He wasn't meant to 
return, yet the letters never 
stopped, and now, all that
remains, is a wrinkled 
s      e 
 m i l

that often meets deep 
hollow eyes when memories 

T
 U 
  M
   B
    L 
      E
 
D
O
W
N



Thursday, February 11, 2016

Pristine Melancholia

Hello there!!
This blog has been lying dead since November. My muse ran away so I had no idea what to write about, but a discussion about poems in the morning sparked my good old love for formed poetry. Thanks Geetika :D So after hours of writing and re-writing and searching for proper rhyming words ... it's ready (You might think  - Is that all you got!!) 

Tadaaa... my first poem of 2016 - a form called Pantoum. 

Wrapped in pristine melancholia,
she awaits the end of time,
whispering ‘neath a lone Acacia,
long forgotten vanilla rhyme.

She awaits the end of time,
an apparition of once a bride,
long forgotten vanilla rhyme 
soars above the ebb of tide.

An apparition of once a bride
for a thousand years and more,
soars above the ebb of tide,
they say awaiting a man of yore.

For a thousand years and more
whispering ‘neath a lone Acacia,
they say awaiting a man of yore,
wrapped in pristine melancholia.

photo by Caroline Knopf

Pantoum Poetry Form

The pantoum consists of a series of quatrains rhyming ABAB in which the second and fourth lines of a quatrain recur as the first and third lines in the succeeding quatrain; each quatrain introduces a new second rhyme as BCBC, CDCD. The first line of the series recurs as the last line of the closing quatrain, and third line of the poem recurs as the second line of the closing quatrain, rhyming ZAZA.

The design is simple:

Line 1
Line 2
Line 3
Line 4

Line 5 (repeat of line 2)
Line 6
Line 7 (repeat of line 4)
Line 8

Continue with as many stanzas as you wish, but the ending stanzathen repeats the second and fourth lines of the previous stanza (as its first and third lines), and also repeats the third line of the first stanza, as its second line, and the first line of the first stanza as its fourth. So the first line of the poem is also the last.

Last stanza:

Line 2 of previous stanza
Line 3 of first stanza
Line 4 of previous stanza
Line 1 of first stanza

Source:  Shadow Poetry

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Three Favourite Words

It was supposed to be fun Friday, yet I was working late,
temperature soaring high, such terrible was my state,
Sun was beyond horizon, and few stars were out too,
I stared at the exceptions, that Java abruptly threw.

Cleaners were long gone, errie was the milieu,
was that a random shadow, peeking from the loo,
Ok that's enough, it was time to call it a day,
I would sure hallucinate, if more longer I stayed.

Caught a train back home, standing on the aisle,
crawled a flight of stairs, dragging my tired profile,
the husband opened the door, even before I was steady,
and uttered my favourite words, "Honey, Dinner's Ready"



Monday, November 2, 2015

Guilty?

My pet left me a note last night,
on how callous I had become,
that the virtual pet was more loved,
than the real furry one,
Of course I deny these allegations,
you can ask my friends on cam,
Look, I received a thousand likes,
When posted on Instagram.


Monday, October 26, 2015

Did you heart the rainbow?

When Maple turns copper,
and sky tangerine,
sighs again a dandelion,
in every skip of a summer dream.


While seasons keep unfolding,
without a sideway glance,
Did you heart the rainbow?
For there's never a second chance.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

The Handwritten Letter

  I once wrote letters, 
in hues of deepest blue,
of stories wild and young, 
imagery too, I drew,

they sailed the seven seas,
stole kisses from billows,
and giggled within the walls  
painted pink and yellow.
Sigh! 
  But it all stopped long ago,
the magic of the yore,
still sometimes beckons the call,
of words written no more.
When Godmother Shailaja came up with SnailMail Challenge, I jumped in. Not just because I  am in love with the written word or the curves of my handwriting (that's narcissist me) , I felt it's a beautiful way to connect with fellow bloggers. I was picked to send a handwritten letter to the extremely talented - Sreesha Divakaran. Through the B-A-R FB group I became familiar with her blog  and absolutely loved her poetry, not to mention she's an avid bookreader too. I almost spent a month figuring out what to write or send. Time had totally rusted my letter writing skills. 

My letter sounded more like a mumbling of a random mind, so I drew a zentangle bookmark, a compensation for reading my mindless musings. This is the only picture I took before posting it. Sadly, the letter is on a world tour or still floating somewhere around the Indian Ocean as she hasn't received it yet. I so wish I had taken proper pictures of the letter so that she could atleast read it virtually.


A month and a half ago I received an email from Rekha with screenshots of the letter she had snail-mailed me. I was delighted!! Her blog Dew Drops is a reader's delight. You will fall in love with the way she writes real life incidents with maturity and gentleness. Unfortunately, life is not so kind on me. Her lovely handwritten letter hasn't reached me yet. But I haven't lost all hope and pray that it would find my mailbox someday.
Thank you so much Rekha. I would have loved being in the company of your daughter. We could have created a huge heap of paper mess :) And someday your bulky books on managing babies might come in handy :D 



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