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 



Tuesday, September 8, 2015

The Balcony

 Once laughter tumbled down her balcony,
an infectious ripple of life unhinged,
drenched in aromas of piping Ginger tea,  
 
the dreams ran notoriously wild and free,
serenading Orion and a gloomy gibbous moon,
     letters scribbled on scorning Mahogany,
 
Time often visits and stands still for a while,
But how do you console an awaiting porch,
yearning for that electrifying smile,
Mum no longer makes piping Ginger tea,
the Dachshund silently sniffs an old sock,
while memories tumble down her balcony.



Photo - Clicked at Cockatoo Island, Sydney

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Rainbow-less Dreams

I borrowed few more breaths,
from a smog of rainbow-less dreams,
drenched in acidic scents of today.

Was I blind or just a fool?
slowly melting into vapours,
I borrowed few more breaths.
A moment more, I lay there still,
and filled palette with surreal hues,
from a smog of rainbowless dreams.
How long this pain can be nursed?
the scars that even time can't heal,
drenched in acidic scents of today.


Poetry Form - Cascade
Cascade, a form created by Udit Bhatia, is all about receptiveness, but in a smooth cascading way like a waterfall. The poem does not have any rhyme scheme; therefore, the layout is simple. Say the first verse has three lines. Line one of verse one becomes the last line of verse two. To follow in suit, the second line of verse one becomes the last line of verse three. The third line of verse one now becomes the last line of verse four, the last stanza of the poem. See the structure example below:

a/b/c, d/e/A, f/g/B, h/i/C (Refer - Shadow Poetry)




Thursday, July 23, 2015

Unreachable!!

Clutching a meagre meal
she stared, 
at the pulsating blinding lights and
T
A
L
L
winding staircase, unreachable.

Between bejewelled roof and
mosaic floor, lay dreams,
cosmic miles A P A R T.

She wondered, if her happiness too
resided on one of the floors.
Perhaps!

**********************

Wiping the last remnant 
of Ruby coloured lipstick,
she longingly gazed
at the revolving glass door,
from a floor too 
H
I
G

Maybe, like that rag-tag girl,
she too could walk out,
escaping the songs of the day,
and 
S   R   A    S
  C    E   M
induced nights.

********************

For a moment their eyes met,
each wishing to be the other.








Thursday, June 4, 2015

Numb

What do you know of the pain in my heart?
The smile, my friend, is a deceptive art,
subtle distances, fractions apart,
yet, you can't see the scars in my heart.

I lie, deaf, floating amidst vapours of past
soaking in stillness 'neath an overcast,
dreams screams when promises depart,
What do you know of the pain in my heart?

Wordy Wednesday Prompt - Scream

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Yo Woman... Fly High!!!



Well you see, I write my own songs,

And dance to the rhythm of my beliefs,

the sky was always a little too small,

to envelope the dreams that I conceive.

Happy International Women's Day

 I loved how this picture defines how I feel... Totally High on Life!!!!

Clicked at Clovelly Beach, Sydney

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Wordless Wednesday - Awaiting Dawn

Draped in hues of sinister blue, 
the ocean, the skies, the milieu, 
Dawn would soon burst at the seams,
following the whispers of a lost dream.

Maybe.

Clicked at the beautiful Dee Why Beach

Friday, February 20, 2015

#1000Speak Compassion

Maybe there’s a world hidden,
from scornful eyes of WE,
Where echoes electric laughter,
And compassion runs free.

Bestowed with immense power of love,
Yet WE choose to burn,
Acidic words, bathed in blood,
Drowning in a lost cavern.

Feel the slow lub-dub of heartbeat,
When someone yearns to live,
the lone screams of depressed,
Or warm breath on cold streets.

Spreading smiles don’t cost a thing,
WE need a little more cheer,
And then maybe you would too,
Wipe away few tears.

When fall the walls of animosity,
To awakened voices, do listen!
You might hear a whispering heart,
Gently mending the broken.



This post is written as a part of 1000 Voices Speak for Compassion, where bloggers all over the world are spreading the unanimous feeling of compassion.

Do take part, share your stories and link up at – IndiaAmericanMom


Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Clamour

In the random clamour of colors 
and dreams unspoken,
I shed inhibitions.
The angels have long stopped,
watching over me, listlessly flying, 
mocking too, maybe!
Meanwhile I climb back,
the spiraling staircase,
trading my wings, for a step or two.


Clamou

Monday, January 19, 2015

Once laughter echoed in our lives

Once laughter echoed in our lives,
now frozen in memories of yore,
when you swayed with the breeze,
while kisses lingered in the air.

Oh I was no dancer dear,
on your feet, I would step often,
yet, you let me take your hand,
and swirl you to sweet songs olden.

Into pieces, though my heart breaks,
looking at your forlorn eyes,
not a glimmer of recognition,
or hint of your electric smile.

But my darling I'll hold you tight,
and remind you of those moments far,
how I swirled you to songs olden,
when laughter echoed in our lives.

I am extremely thankful to Magpie Tales for the picture prompts, because that's what keeping this blog running :) They are my muse :)



Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Intoxicated by Petrichor

Intoxicated by Petrichor,
blooms dance in joyous grace,
now drenched in summer rain.

I made myself a cup of tea,
and sat near the window sill,
intoxicated by Petrichor

Curled in blanket with a book,
listening to peaceful patter, while,
blooms dance in joyous grace,
           
Oh my!! how could I forget,
the clothes still hang outside

now drenched in summer rain.



Poetry Form - Cascade

Cascade, a form created by Udit Bhatia, is all about receptiveness, but in a smooth cascading way like a waterfall. The poem does not have any rhyme scheme; therefore, the layout is simple. Say the first verse has three lines. Line one of verse one becomes the last line of verse two. To follow in suit, the second line of verse one becomes the last line of verse three. The third line of verse one now becomes the last line of verse four, the last stanza of the poem. See the structure example below:

a/b/c, d/e/A, f/g/B, h/i/C

To make the Cascade an even longer poem, use more lines in verse one. For example, if verse one has 6 lines, the poem must have seven stanzas so that each line of verse one is reused as a refrain in each following stanza (a cascading effect) 
Source - Shadow Poetry

Linking to Magpie Tales

Related Posts