black and white abstract painting
feminine, life, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry

Dawn

You my dear love, like a sceptic shock

entered my limbs and gave me a

a wasted kiss.


A lazy embrace which lay stretched

like hollow streets, hyper, hypnotic I ran

towards those sepia streets.


Time didn’t freeze, as it never does,

Yes! Sun will be the Moon tomorrow;

never doubt what the blind women say.


Wind withers on letting her raven hairs

down, making way for that barefooted

dreary dawn.


To descend coyly in the wedding gown

and embrace the Sun and the Sewage;

You and me in it’s sandy shroud.

gloomy face on bones in dark
life, Literature, Love, poetry

Sweet Grief

Sweet grief, come sit with me

relax, recline and rejoice.

I was aghast when you left me

at the dawn for the Sun to clasp

and the hope to flutter.

Sweet grief lie down with me

now don’t stomp or be in hurry

or if you attempt to leave

this time, I’ll hold you by

by your narrow neck and

show you what suffering

looks like, when the daylight

comes and the elusive hope flies by.

life, Literature, Love, poetry

The Black Art by Anne Saxton

A woman who writes feels too much,
those trances and portents!
As if cycles and children and islands
weren’t enough; as if mourners and gossips
and vegetables were never enough.
She thinks she can warn the stars.
A writer is essentially a spy.
Dear love, I am that girl.

A man who writes knows too much,
such spells and fetiches!
As if erections and congresses and products
weren’t enough; as if machines and galleons
and wars were never enough.
With used furniture he makes a tree.
A writer is essentially a crook.
Dear love, you are that man.

Never loving ourselves,
hating even our shoes and our hats,
we love each other, precious, precious.
Our hands are light blue and gentle.
Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
But when we marry,
the children leave in disgust.
There is too much food and no one left over
to eat up all the weird abundance.

Tragedy of Oedipus
History, Legend, Literature, poetry

The Greater Tragedy Than Oedipus

Tragic Oedipus  wandered blind
In the bazaars of colorful Athens
crimson blood oozing out
from hollowed eyes. 
Cursing gods
for his fate so harsh 
carrying shame of
copulation with mother.
Strong guilt  sits heavy 
for slaying, his own father. 
Roaming from street to street
Asking same question,
“Why was I the chosen one”
Begotten out of the cursed
Womb of Jocasta 
Doomed by abhorrent 
act of Laius
In  self pity and gloating
had he forgotten of the
little boy sodomized 
Shame horror
subsequent death
Chrysippus condemned  
for acts of evil that men commit 
for which naive boys
and girls pay heavy price 
In his misfortune did he
think of young  Chrisypuss
dishonored , violated. 
Did he not ponder upon
wickedness that men carry
atrocities  for which many
Young ones are robbed
Of single drop of dignity.
Fear of woman in window
life, Love, poetry

Mad Man

Sorcerer he imagined days of virtuosity

those hours of maniac creativity.

Ladies and only ladies objected to his mighty chicken;

but never a ladies man, he was a bloke

Now as his mind became flat with hay

and ethered breaths as he lay.

Pancing back and forth in strange darkness,

gazed at the sky full of moons in naked starkness.

Mother stood in embellished wedding frock,

a chalky dream, it was never to be a cakewalk.

Midst cat droppings, and shattered dreams

he wished to defile a flower again.

But he was nothing but a Mad Man

holding hands
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, life, Love, poetry

Let us

Let us leave the hand of misery,

and pledge to never gloat in self-pity.

Life is tough, its hard,

but lets just never judge.

We all are victims of both hate and lust.

And this is life nothing more that that,

it is stiff for those who always doubt.

Whatever happens, happens….

So why fret let us love and hold

hands of those who are left behind.

Smile and for once just be kind.

feminine, Humour, life, Love, Nature

Miss That Girl

I miss that girl who,

would run wild, and

was always ready to

smile without  breaks.

She loved without care

When the things 

got tougher simply

cried her heart out.

and life would get 

straight again, ideals

were lofty , heels

higher and memories

ran sharper, food

was always warm 

and drinks forever

bubbling…

Now many springs

later that girl

seek reasons to 

laugh, tears don’t

descend to heart’s

desire, lovers have

gone senile, running

requires plastic knee-

caps and heels are

trimmed to two inches

mark ,forgetfulness is

the way of busy life,

while food requires

a careful watch, the

bubbling drinks be

better left off…

Life might never be

straight again ….

I miss that girl!

life, Love, Nature, poetry

Cheap Bars

In cheap bars,

few words are exchanged.

Men and women are

lip-locked, desiring

a quickie and

some cheap booze.

Few roadside poets

aroused and induced

by blue gin and tonic,

pretend to dabble in

classical sonnets.

There are no

masterpieces here,

nor heroic tales.

Words are concieved

on the rough edges of

burnt joints.

Midst rivers of woes

and poetic verses

lingers a stench

of dead fish.

Everyone comes

here….

Poets have homes ,

Men and women

have homes but

nothing is going on

in those empty walls.

photo of tiger
life, Nature, poetry

An Encounter

( A Narrative Poem based on a true encounter in the Himalayan Mountains)

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,

In the forests of the night;

-William Blake

As it happened one cold winter night,

I bleakly remember the air was of fright.

I trudged on a road tired and weary,

watching my steps turn heavy and dreary.





The air transformed into grim and cold,

trilling’s and chirpings came to an end.

Everything was clasped, by an eerie hold; .

A strange rustling, was it a fiend to slay?





Did I see a ghost in sight?

It pounced and perched from a shadowy bark,

as it tapped , I glanced at its speckled back;

A beastly creature, it has no match.





What are thou? I shivered at it’s types,

with speckled yellow and black stripes.

A terror took over my heart, which was beating fast.

As it fixated the gaze with ember eyes,

I knew, the ghostly spell has been cast.