I remember a poem called ‘A reason or a season” widely in circulation on social media a couple of years back. The poet opined that people come into our lives with a specific purpose, and we should let them go when they choose to go.The purpose has been fulfilled. What disconnects is a vital clue … More Connections
I spoke to two friends today – a corporate executive and a doctor. Both echoed the same thoughts in response to “How are things with you?” The fifty plus generation does not have much paid work left to do, We have hit a glass ceiling. Experience is an impediment to those who want rookies to … More Bone-Weary
this is not a painting emotions spilling over all over the place in different colors overlapping asserting resisting merging creating illusions calling for attention…. forming shapes drawing boundaries underplaying some- emphasising other structures to make sense… I look at leaves of hope I painted on top of chaos to make it look like a work … More A work of art
landing dab in the middle of chaotic states being stabbed where voice originates nobody has a clue of the grit it takes to just survive, not win or create majorities always win without debate it feels as if makers of the world died intestate
LINK TO SELECTED POEM https://allpoetry.com/poems/about/Unusual STATIC PEOPLE by reflection shadows Parts of me fails to understand. Between silence and television calm. There is a blank empty canvas in me. That seems to eat the planets in space, and devour it all. To drift between chaos and order. My own shadow sits; and screams! It’s tears … More Name the Weapon
It is the same Sun that greets me every morning. I don my eye-glasses, and strain the eyes to see if there are any additional rays in the aura around it. A year has passed, and it should reflect in the Sun’s achievements – like a new medal. I think of all the shades of … More Same Sun, New Colors
shooting flames throw some light dark secrets from past tumble out – fond memories take a flight diaries hidden In book covers speak a different language than warmth of fireplace I freeze – a chill hovers neither a pull, nor a hook my once cherished inglenook
vigour and fervour hands that clasp mine hold promises for a future Relaxed, I roam around waiting to be called back there is no sound… I come back to the cosy place an unfamiliar iron grip Rings alarms – it is too late I’m placed under house arrest a public speech, new promises there they … More Tightening grips
untainted untouched yet not a virgin… It is a place where ideas meet form neural pathways blossom to take different shapes and mingle with my life I’m fiercely possessive I don’t share keep it away from crooks It is my Zen corner My inglenook…
her arrogance painted in wine on walls pushes him deeper in agony submerged in blues – a peculiar shade not of his choice purple drinks of superciliousness greet visitors -as they long for vibrant vibes or peaceful whites In their humble abodes I see dark shadows entwined in leafy greens as I take a flight … More Narcissist colors
