Poems Archive for General:


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




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

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
on it
I rub palms
Each living moment
as I am
a human BEing
I am relearning
the art of
simply BEing
in the
as is

Painting : -Jupiter in Virgo is by Rene Magritte


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



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

walls titter coming alive
argumentatively comparing
their framed fripperies

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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