Lost in translation

“The quiet sense of something lost”  ― Alfred Tennyson I'm lost in the translation  wandering between the pages of  a book hiding between the folds and sitting under a neatly folded dog-eared page waiting to be pulled I'm surrounded by the pages  of my life  and left behind in the stories untold that old shattered spine of that dusty book … Continue reading Lost in translation

My Muse

This is the third poem in the anthology of poems called Lifecycle of a poem “Never durst a poet touch a pen to write Until his ink was tempered with love's sighs.” ― William Shakespeare, Love's Labour's Lost My inspiration the music to which my quill dances  wildly beyond the realms of dreams and reality As … Continue reading My Muse

Recollection

A large black cumulus shape around me floating endlessly conjured by my purple thoughts and in my hallowed mind its beginning to swell up and pour on my raisin skin and filling up every pour every nook and corner of my being a mushroom hovering simmering with the acidic thought burning through this cold ice blurring with tales of … Continue reading Recollection

Relocate

This poem came to my mind as my neighbors are relocating.I saw that familiar look in her’s daughter’s eye.

Megha's World

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As she looks back throughher car seat windoweverything was getting smallerby every passing minuteEverything was slowly moving awayeverything was dwindling downthe friends she has spenther best part of her fifth gradeand played the silliest games they  foundThe playground where she playedand the swings which took herhigh up in the skythe small lanes and alleys in the streetwere slowly waving her goodbyeShe slowly passed by the house of the boyshe couldn't believe she had a crush onnow the truth will always willbe buried in the little diaryin her small little palmThe stores near his housewhere convenientlyeverything she could findand there was no reasonfor so many stores in that line.The dainty hills in the backwhere her friend could playfrom dusk till dawnwhere she first tore herpretty birthday dressshe…

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Birth of a poem

This is the fourth and the final poem in the anthology of poems called Lifecycle of a poem. My taloned hands my bony  fingers are itching  to dip themselves in the  ink and  paint  a visceral picture of  pain and  beauty and all that there is; Chaotic thoughts in my resplendent mind is looking for a vent  … Continue reading Birth of a poem

An appeal

I request you to stop this incessant pain in my marred heart and pallid face brewing the stories of yore I insist, I implore Remove your presence your existence from my life the dark reflection which consumes my soul like a black hole leaves it with nothing to explore I insist, I implore The deep throbbing of the heart … Continue reading An appeal