Jul 12, 2013 | Creative Writing
he sand storm we live through
the sand that rusts all and sundry
all that comes in it’s wake
the sand that turns all dusty
the sand that makes one thirsty
the sand that blows memories
the sand that throws caution to winds
the sand that make bread edible
the sand that turns food afresh
the sand that turns sheep into lions
the sand that creates lover out of men and women
the sand that creates life in the womb
the sand that turns water drier
the sand that runs with the blood in these veins
the sand that makes me miss romance of life
the sand that crackle if I chew on bread
the sand that rushes through fingers
the sand that once was a castle
that sand lives in my desert…
Jul 10, 2013 | Creative Writing
Captive of memories I walk backwards
watching my each step I search for footsteps
do I leave some or do I make new ones?
Time follows me on tip toes
he blows the storm to erase all
I wait by the river bank for moon to turn full
a century has walked by
another will arrive some day
one year will break the chains
to hold my hand
to usher me into tomorrow’s frame
and I will write one complete poem
my final one
in the light of full moon.
Jul 8, 2013 | Creative Writing
Sunlight has invaded every nook and corner
silence broken
flowers bloom
grass rose from slumber
birds are hungry one more time
one more night slipped away
undecided from darkness’ grip
one more time
the cold war is settled
night has lost
in favour of morning…
Jul 8, 2013 | Creative Writing
while roaming on this earth
I turned into earth
and boiled with the sun
to touch skies
to fathom it’s height
with my barely clad arms
that enveloped your shoulders
I turned into river
while roaring through my dreams
I turned into blood
surged running down your veins
did I reach your heart unbroken?
I swam across oceans of togetherness
to arrive drenched on this beach
lying down with my face buried deep
did I rake any memories
that we set across this land?
I churned our hours
again and again and again
to reach where we camp tomorrow
unheeded undetected unushered
into our very own
lonely flights to reach our land…
Jul 6, 2013 | Creative Writing
Incessant chirping of the little black bird
continues to hammer
listen to me O’ woman
I may not be a wise old man
yet I am most certainly
a young little bird
I am life and love
I am naive and awkward
I am not to be tamed…
but I am a bird that may not fly away
I am a bird who will sing for you
each morning till you shoo me away
I whisper to her my love
O’ my little bird
my tiny bundle of pulsating feathers
I will keep you close to my heart
I will let you fly higher to fathom skies
I will never put you in this iron cage
that my bosom holds
I will make you savour freedom’s fruit
my little black joy
Sing please this song each morning
for I live for this tune you set to my days
and I die each night still tuned to your fading tune
to wake up each morning
to be tuned again
to your song of longing
hey you my tiny black bird
I live days in and days out
through your incessant chirps.
Jun 30, 2013 | Creative Writing
The rain when it falls
seeks permission from the earth
with thundering calls
and the air in my room
suddenly turns silent
I can hear blood rushing in my ears
clouds outside gather in hordes
the thrust of the crowd
pulls my heart over the bridge
that links our lonely togetherness
with my hands filled with showers
of bygone moments
that stretch through oceans and rivers
yawn in the wake of dreams
for a big splash in the puddle
on the road to memories
my hands make paper boats
from the poems written all along
and ask me to float…
