Poems Archive for General:

Erosion

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

time
noisiily flaps
wings I calmly
nuzzle my soft
cozy duvet
..

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

..

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

time
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

 

throttle

 

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
renderings

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

Palm prints

Firmly believing in living
Largely with what’s in hand
I no longer knit brows
browse in real earnest
At own palm prints
foretelling what may
Or mayn’t come
sweating
on it
Instead
I rub palms
gleefully
rejoicing
Each living moment
as I am
a human BEing
hence
I am relearning
the art of
simply BEing
in the
moment
as is
joyously

Painting : -Jupiter in Virgo is by Rene Magritte

pre-dawn

woke up with morning ragas
emanating from the backyard..
…..
cloudy eyes from yesterday’s
maudlin thoughts have finally
dissipated …
…..there is something
so pure about beautifully enunciated
“chants” as they awaken the kundalini
of my somnambulant consciousness
…..
washed down by first piping cup of morning
tea as I plan a busy day with much to do
without too much ado about “nothings”

…when body wants to cave in..I prod
it mercilessly as I cannot afford to
be a basket case ever… there’s lively
embers still left in this feisty do or die spirit

..

heartbeat


up in dead of night
i hear the fast thud
of our home’s heartbeat

walls titter coming alive
argumentatively comparing
their framed fripperies

stairs
creak and moan
for attention
..
then as my heartbeat
fills my throat i hear soft
footfalls descending…..

our evenly pulsing
walls made vibrant and
alive by us during daytime
..
come night fall
turn mysterious
gripped by shadows

I hear their heartbeat
loudly thumping
under cover of night
..
stillness of my “me” time
is thus rent by staccato
pounding of my own heartbeat

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