my world collapses every now and then in the middle of an afternoon under an indolent sun when the air doesn’t move and the fan’s whir is a reminder of a thousand other worlds in a million different snapshots of time that linger as languid as the mid year sun minstrels of all my worlds that did sooner or later coalesce and cease the earth turns inexorable, programmed i am time’s magnet, how can it escape now it races, now…
It is always hard for a new mother, whose maternity leave is about to end and they have to go back to work. Not just them, it’s hard for every mother, who leaves behind their baby, to complete a chore or have to go out regularly for some purpose or another. It is never easy. The heart wails, not wanting such a situation to come. But then, they do come. This poem depicts the feelings of the mothers when they…
she’d not seen yellow butterflies take over the strawberry patch or the beds of nasturtiums, dog flowers, and phlox in the garden. she hadn’t run through yellow mustard fields under wide open skies, and felt the drag of wind in her hair, the rub and scratch of mustard greens on her arms and legs. she had never seen buttercups growing wild on a hillside. no, she’d never seen or felt any of that. she had lived all her life in…
sometimes, i think, just let it go even if most certainly absolutely positively you know something someone’s saying is not quite so just let it go strange how those lines came out rhyming was it my thought or was it the timing you know, astrology and stuff that keep stymieing nuptials and negotiations, the stars and their diming? but really, just let it go even though reality may be different yet who’s to tell it is just so isn’t yours…
we think we can replace everything. friends, pets, kidneys, countries, even computers. no, seriously. lost someone? broken something? house taken by a typhoon? mysterious ailment got your nine (or is it ten) year old imac? never mind. you can replace it. we even have a replacements.com. yeah, we’re not hanging around aching for things gone, shattered, destroyed by time… we’re going to replace it. like that. but what if you feel a sense of emptiness that refuses to budge even…
Many many years ago, so many that I no longer remember how many, I remember writing an essay for my school magazine. During a train journey, a thin little girl had sung while holding her infant brother in her arms. The coins that people threw into her tin bowl had held strange haunting music of their own. I must have seen beggars before, but this girl had felt real. Real enough that I had written about her. My teachers had…
my soldier, you are goneto paradise or beyond this universe’s realmi have no way of knowingthe aching winds bring news from farmy soldier, you are gone if there’s paradise on earth they saidit was there it was there it was therewho sent the minstrel of deathriding his bloodlust, detonating his carnagemy soldier, you are gone your child’s tears will soak through to her heartyour mother’s eyes will never know peaceyour father your son your country will weepyour instant will remain…
i’ve burnt with you slowly, sustainedly in scorches, in conflagration in flames i have burnt with you incinerating cremating my remains watching the ashes fly the embers spark and call on cataclysm to catch fire and burn again i have burnt with you been torrefied and returned to original dust indrani’s index …
Did you ever wonder, sometimes on a busy day Why a little longer, some moments would not stay? Catch those little bubbles, before they float away Catch those little moments, before time goes away Did you ignore dear ones, when they had something to say? Did you stop them in the middle, when they had a confession to make? Listen to their sweet words, before they vanish away Listen to what their heart says, else you may never hear…