Thursday, 31 July 2014


Eyes glued to “Charlie bit my finger again”

Eyes glued to “Charlie bit my finger again”

The moral is one’s joy is another’s pain

The moral is one’s joy is another’s pain

Charlie glued moral to my finger

Eyes again bit one’s joy, another’s pain


The little elder brother is nameless

The little elder brother is nameless

He is to endure the bite smilingly

He is to endure the bite smilingly

To endure the little brother is the bite

Nameless is the elder smilingly


One giggles and the other shouts “It hurts”

One giggles and the other shouts “It hurts”

Unseen is the photographer parent

Unseen is the photographer parent

The parent giggles unseen and it hurts

The other one, photographer shouts


My moral finger glued joy to pain

Charlie the little one giggles again

The parent is smilingly unseen

To the photographer pain is joy

Eyes endure nameless bite

It hurts it hurts it hurts……..


Posted this Paradelle @ d’Verse MTB


Wednesday, 30 July 2014


Gandhiji : google image

The chopped off thumbs

Of the artisans of Muslin

By the British rulers

Might have entered

Into Gandhi’s dream

Moist with the tears

Of the Bengal weavers

A majority of them were Muslims

That chanted in each cell

Of the nonviolent man

To make a call to boycott 

British goods later on

And to return to spinning

It was not a call to turn against technology

But to boost an economy

And to bring a smile to the mass

That were sinking into abyss

Day by day by inhuman

Oppression by human kind

That came from far away

Crossing seven seas and thirteen rivers

To suck blood from this ancient land

That never knew aggression

And only spread peace

Across the world

A place where philosophy was born



Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Boycott @ Poets United


Tuesday, 29 July 2014


google image

The kitty is having fun

With white little daisies

Swiveling their neck

At him in the breeze

And green indulgent grass

Is the happy mother

A scene like this

Adds to my joy

On an ordinary day

Of blue sky

Fluffy white clouds

Occasional rain

A little time in my shrine

Daily chores


Reading books


Prompts and poetry

And if the cook doesn’t come

The kitchen

Becomes a place

Of creation

I love it

Posted for Peggy's prompt Something Ordinary @ Poetry Jam

Sunday, 27 July 2014


google image

He saw only eleven cycle

Of color, fragrance, form that seasons gift

Before making a goodbye nod

To this unholy world

Where tooth, nail and blood

Are sharpening and spilling

He made sure to shower his Springs

Upon those in wait

Like him with dimmed hope of life

Now those organs of him

Will live and let a few breathe

For some more Springs

Ah the light stays......


Posted for Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

courtesy : Weird World @ Facebook

Thursday, 24 July 2014


google image

I’m stuck in a huge blank nowhere

And see a gargantuan mass of words

Slithering towards me

Their scales are too

Shiny, morose, husky, sweet

Shadowy, mellifluous and harsh

I am almost mesmerized

Will I be subdued by its constrictions

I choose to turn away my eyes

And take deep breath

Darkness descends

My firefly words are out

One by one but few

 Short lived fluttering glow-words

They pull me out

And give me a tiny home



Posted for Claudia’s hosting Meeting The Bar:Critique And Craft @ d’Verse

Wednesday, 23 July 2014


google image

I sometimes can’t differentiate

Between trash and treasure

When my father discarded

Those wrapper foils of cigarette

I treasured them to make

Tiny silver cups for the dolls


Who does not value this precious life

But to some it is hillbilly, okie

Redneck or simply white trash

Yet what a treasure is

A bit of consciousness


A lot of animals are trash

Because humans can’t eat them

And they are ugly to look at

Or they are threat to your cattle

While we keep on pulling out

The subtle skin on Nature’s face

So pigeons, carp, coyote are trash

Canada goose is a sky carp

But Mother Nature keeps

A sharp look out for Her

Dearest wild babies


We better learn to respect

All life forms

Before we become trash ourselves


Posted for Laurie’s prompt Trash Or Treasure @ Poetry Jam

Tuesday, 22 July 2014



I could taste time’s softness

In the juicy golden mangoes

I could smell time’s fragrance

In the bosom of my mother

And how can I ever forget

That velvet touch of time

In the palm of my childhood friends

I saw time’s soft smile

In my father’s face

When he took that snap

Of his first born going to school

For the first time

Time’s melodious tune

In the voice of music teacher

Still rings and echoes

I always thought time

As slow, tender, loving, friendly, colorful and musical

Until those two unforgiving

Hands of clock made this world go

Topsy turvy, rough and harsh

Dragging time in an incredible pace

To a barren land

To an unfamiliar home

To this impossible world

 Smeared with blood

Where fragmented shelters

Drive everyone out in the street

Where children are fed with bombs

Where only two languages are spoken

Fear and tears

Where the Paradise is lost forever

Mutated Hollowmen have seized this Earth

They will not stop until

Our living place is the dead land

Until time is burned

And becomes mere ash


The words in red are from T.S. Eliot’s Hollowmen


Posted for d’Verse Pub Poetics where the prompt is Time / Clocks

Sunday, 20 July 2014


courtesy : google image

Hill of words

Gathering the crumb

I’m an ant



Posted @ d’Verse Poets Pub ~ long live the pub

Saturday, 19 July 2014

This poem is a river, a man and a forest

courtesy : google image

This poem is the wrath of a river

This poem is the dream of a man

This poem is the story of a forest


This poem is Brahmaputra

Its hungry tide laps up land

Crashing, breaking dreams

Before reaching its salty home

It tears itself to countless streams

Taking the look of torn roots

Of a gigantic banyan tree

This poem is the wrath of a river


This poem is Jadav Payeng

He is a forestry worker

Living in Majuli Island by the Brahmaputra

The broken nests light a star

In his inner sky

He becomes his own light

And prays for a woodland to take birth

This poem is the dream of a man


This poem is Molai Forest

Each tree loves a man

Who single handedly

For more than three decades

Created this tree-land

That’s harboring wild life

And fortifying the island

This poem is the story of a forest


This poem is the flow of tamed anger of a river

This poem is the fulfillment of the deep green dream of a man

This poem is the song of the wild in an unusual forest



My heartfelt thanks to Grace for sharing the wonderful video of The Forest Man with me that was the inspiration of this poem…



Posted for Hannah’s hosting Sunday’s Mini Challenge : Boomerang Metaphors @ Real Toads


Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

Thursday, 17 July 2014



courtesy : d'Verse Poets ball

We are partying tonight

Us, the wordy-beings

As our feet strike the dancing floor

Lighty-flighty mighty words

Begin to rise from terrazzo

We are drinking deep

The Soma-rasa* of intoxicating words

Fragrance of exotic sumptuous meal

Soothing our hungry souls

In the Boboli gardens

We all hear the whispering voice

“In the beginning was the Word

And the Word was with God

And the Word was God”

We recognize ourselves

Under this starry night

“We are one"

*. Soma rasa is a CONCEPTUAL beverage of Gods , which is described as Truth (Sathyam), Auspiciousness( Sri:) , light /radiance (Jyothi:) in the Rig-Veda (Wikipedia)


Posted for Poet’s Ball @ d’Verse Poets


Wednesday, 16 July 2014


The snake charmer played on his Been*

Gracefully swung the cobra’s hood

We flocked in hundreds to the scene


The snake charmer played on his Been

“Crikey**” wasn’t heard in the scene

Spectators were in happy mood


The snake charmer played on his Been

Gracefully swung the cobra’s hood


*a musical instrument like a flute

**The Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin’s favorite phrase


Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Snakes @ Poets United

Tuesday, 15 July 2014


When Nature or Fate chuckles at us

We are taken aback in awe

Take the case of “miracle baby”

The mother conceived it

In her fallopian tube

The father was morosely driving

To the hospital to relieve

The mother of her pain

By having it operated

On the way they met with an accident

The father escaped unscathed

Mother received the blow in her

Lower abdomen and the baby

Was forced its way to the safe

Home of mother’s uterus


Or take the case of that man

Whose eyes only saw

The dense black waves and

Made his world the darkest place

No human hands could

Give him back those light

Of which he had no experience

Yet on one stormy day

He was struck by lightning

And Lo and Behold

The world revealed to him

In color, light and joy*


So as Mary says we have to embrace

The journey and whatever it gifts us

Joy or sorrow we cannot avoid



*I came to learn of these two incidents from news channel and YouTube


Posted for Gabriella’s prompt Unexpected @ Poetry Jam

Saturday, 12 July 2014



google image

Scarlet sky storming furiously

Spewing hatred, venom, anger

Released from serpentine hearts

Darkening dreamy eyes

Death’s dizzy delight


Lips’ slip sealed

White Dove



*a ten year old girl killed in Rafah by Israel bombing


(The poem is a Nonet that has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second eight syllables and so on until line nine that finishes with one syllable)

courtesy : google image


Posted for Poetry Pantry @ PoetsUnited

Wednesday, 9 July 2014


Imprisoned in a nameless world

She has forgotten to pine

It was always like this as it were

Only an endless present

She smiles

Like a newborn in sleep

If you call her

She will look up

Though not sure if that word (name)

Belongs to her

Days into nights

And nights into days

She breathes and vegetates

All this because she has lost

Her key to the past

Never to be retrieved


Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ The Key @ Poets United

Tuesday, 8 July 2014


My long tentacles of attachment

Do not let me go to the place

Where Words made of light

Vibrate giving clarion call

To follow them wholeheartedly


I shudder to let go of my desire

To make a feast with my senses

Of the world with all its

Color, music and form

That is both hard and soft

I cannot dream of my taste buds

Becoming snails on a dry and rough path


Yet those shining, smiling Words

Beckon to their dwelling place

Which is so high from this ground

And I know that craggy uphill path

Is not for me at all

Still they keep on sending signals

And whisper in my dream

To shed of some parts of me

Only to be with them which I cannot


Posted for Peggy’s prompt An Impossible Place @ Poetry Jam

Monday, 7 July 2014


courtesy : google image

Clinking, bubbling mirth


Red bleary-eyed boss


Posted for Haiku Horizons prompt Party

Saturday, 5 July 2014


Ecstasy is supreme joy

Caused by an inner bliss

Self breathes relief and peace

The stony mundane lid melts

Accentuating that godly shine

Such lighthouses warn and guide

Yet we have lost our eyes


(This poem belongs to the category of Name Poetry that tells about the word. It uses letters of the word for the first letter of each line.)


Posted for Poetry Pantry @ PU

Wednesday, 2 July 2014


(Haiku in 3-5-3 format)

courtesy : google image


Pull the fancy tide

Hoaxers smile


Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Half Yearand also World UFO Day @ PU

Tuesday, 1 July 2014


courtesy : google image

Merciful heaven

Sends drops of kindness to all

A few receivers

Insatiable flames rise

We walk on contentment’s ash


Posted for Alan’s prompt Thirst @ Poetry Jam