Poems Archive for Contemplative:

time bits

Beach combing
Sands of time
I find bits
Of rhyme
I piece
Fuse forming
a poem
Once writ
On the beach
In time

pain is a series of memories

comes in spells
in solitudes and crowds
during deja vu doppleganger
instances taking you back
to departed loved ones
to your source where it
all began …
misty eyed and
pensive you sieve glittery
tid bits for consumption
smiling and cackling as the case
maybe in recalling….replete
with pain of bodyblow losses
is a malaise
and a release
affirming you’re still alive…
nothing accentuates it more
than the autumn leaves denuding
en masse leaving tree trunks
brown and stark naked ….
… I often wonder why does
autumn fill me with joy
and a crush of sadness
as leaves crunch underfoot
on pavements …
tis their departure that saddens…
and then I recall those surprises
in flowers sent from overseas
on my red letter days brightening
up my mom-ness
later touched by time’s wand
bright fragrant flowers begin to decay
in falling petals filling me with wistful
sighs of empty nester longings

arrives in many ways
without much fanfare
usually ..
tis a chameleon
if I may….

Sunflowers and Lane of Poplars by Van Gogh


brashly erodes
bones I whittle time
by tweaking
it’s nose

noisiily flaps
wings I calmly
nuzzle my soft
cozy duvet

hate filled yesterday
bit innocent Big Apple
lives…aghast my shocked
serenity sent forth prayers


know death is
a given be not proud
we are all wired to play
our game best way possible

brashly erodes
bones I whittle time
by angrily tweaking
it’s nose

painting : Vincent van Gogh: Woman Sitting on a Basket with Head in Hands, The Hague: March, 1883



filling spaces with sacred
vibrations emanating
impeccably chanted
slokas in pure sanskrit
I daily fashion
a loch
of serenity
for immersing
myself in
Even though away from my country
country stays deeply rooted
. …and this is how
I daily pilgrimage
.. …mind’s eye gently parting
matted dreadlocks of Lord Shiva
for releasing holy river Ganges
conjuring bracing
glacial cascades
in New York city
mind and body
swaddled in ochre
suitably anointed
with hints of sandalwood
swirling from incense burners
vermilion dot “Tilak” for third eye
on forehead ..right hand worry beading
strung108 incantations crafted
in holy basil.. involuntarily looping
trick-a-treating mind
tantalizingly stays elusive
locked in an annoying tussle
between a mushy dithering heart
and an impatient mind
raring to cut it’s mooring
from all bonds with finality
immersed in a pooled loch
of light diving
surfacing diving…..



going for the jugular
I throttle
inner darknesses
rendering full throttle
to the lightness
of my being

when was one
apart from the other
I query of myself
ever fascinated
by life’s chiaroscuro

Fatigue sloughed rested
mind is no longer arrested
and creaky bone joints visualize
benign tai chi as i daintily sip
chai tea make believing
tis a smoking joint ..

there is something
calming to awake
in “me time” when it’s
neither night nor day
in-betweens are always
heavy with possibilities

Nowadays I live
with hope in one hand
never say die attitude
in other ..karma’s chips
may fall where they must
bonhomie stays inviolate

my musings amuse lazybones
part of me as I habitually peruse
“to do” lists good intentions
forming fizzling simultaneously
on account of the premise tomorrow
“there’ll be nothing to look forward to”

I so enjoy
being both
witness (sakshi)
and view
cogs and browsers
in my head going
cha-ching !

going for the jugular
I throttle
inner darknesses
rendering full throttle
to the lightness
of my being

photograph: Olive Cotton circa 1935

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