Tag Archives: poetry

Rhyme and reason

Free verse doesn’t come easily to me
I like to loop words together
In orderly segments of time.

It must be all those classes of poetry
Memorising poems tied to the tether
Of metre and rhyme.

It could be an apprehension
Of letting thoughts run away
Like naughty kids on the grounds.

Or a notion that perfection
Would be lost in disarray
Of syllables and sounds.

But at the end of the day
It’s how I say best
What my heart whispers to me

So when words begin to stray
I pull them back to the test
Of sequestered harmony.


Posted by on January 23, 2012 in Poetry


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When the mountains meditate

Mountains, meditating monks on grassy meadows

The clouds rumbling mantras, in the dark shadows.

The earth watches its breath as it wafts by on the slopes

And the rain beats a rhythm, cadences of harmony and hope.

Little streams find their way
Amongst the shrubs and the stones
To the Earth’s gaping lips
Its thirst to atone.


Carpets of green, laid out in style
All washed and clean, across unending miles.

The trees find mirrors, to look at themselves
They smile at the fishes as they dive and they delve.

And there in the fields, that revel in the rain
Happy hands work together ,their hearts singing again.

The waters that gather, begin their slow journey
Excited they are, thinking of the blue sea.

And in the calm that descends after the downpour
There’s a quiet joy that mends the unravelled core.

This is in response to the prompts on the following link:


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When the storm comes

This is in response to the prompt link:

When the storm comes
The shore stands still and petrified
Closing its eyes to the angry waves
Frothing at the mouth
When the storm comes
The black rocks watch the mud-banks slide
Listening to the wind snarl in the caves
Smelling the stench of death.

When the storm comes
It’s furious frenzy shakes the trees
Shattering sounds of breaking glass
Heralding the deluge.
When the storm comes
The skies break open o’er the lee
Lashing through the rows of grass
Drenching drops , so huge.

When the storm comes
Nature sways in the dance of death.
Cowering in the aisles, we pray
Waiting for the curtain- fall.
When the storm comes
The earth sits with bated breath
Knowing that this too will pass away
And calm will takes its call.


Posted by on May 30, 2011 in Poetry


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I would not be his bride

This is in response to the photo-prompt on the following link:

Yea, he’s got that swagger in his gait
And his speech is about control
He sure sits handsome on his steed
And that should make me drool.

But he’s all about himself, ain’t he,
As he strolls about on his ranch ?
Of macho deeds and those he shot
And those he hung on a branch.

He spells aggression in each sinew
As he rides over the cobbled street
Trapped in his image of Cowboy King
He’d want the world at his feet.

Ah, but this tall hunk here, is not my man
Though I love that cocky stride
He’s many a maiden’s dream, he is
But I would not be his bride.


Posted by on May 27, 2011 in Poetry


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Swinging moods


The house has been white-washed clean
The knick- knacks all so neatly placed
Floors polished bright and stains erased
Not a speck of dust to be seen.

Only I know where the musty cellars are
Where cobwebs hang in listless loops
Where broken door frames make you stoop
Where hope ferments and dreams turn sour.


When nobody is watching
I take them out
Tiny gems that catch the rays
And dazzle with their brilliance

They’ve been mine
For a long, long time
I’ve never let them go.
For if I do, I’d lose myself
Don’t dreams define us, in a sense?


Posted by on May 25, 2011 in Poetry


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Through a chink in the curtains
Comes in the dawn
I stretch my limbs
With a luxurious yawn

The sparrows assemble
Outside to say
“Wake up and live
Make full this day.

Breathe in the present
Exhale memories of past
Who knows of the future
Or what shadows it will cast

This moment is shining
Made just for you
From the joy in our chirping
Take your cue”

P.S: I wrote this many years ago when I could still wake up early and when there were lots of sparrows in and around Delhi. Now , I ‘m mostly a late riser and sadly the sparrows have almost disappeared completely.


Posted by on May 12, 2011 in Poetry


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Happiness, elusive nymph
Vanishing when almost in your hold
A glimpse you have in your hour of triumph
Tantalising vision in silver and gold.

You reach out and she slips away
Into the forests of consciousness
You follow-often led astray
The way is rough, the jungle dense.

Tired-frustration growing on you
You lean against an ample bark
Dreaming of sunbeams dancing on dew
She is there again, an apparition in the dark.

Submitting this poem in response to the prompt on the following link:


Posted by on May 11, 2011 in Poetry


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Test by Fire

A tiny flittering flame
Sheltered in the hollow
Of my palm.

My face seems not the same
Warm and radiant
And utterly calm.

A circle of light
In the dark environs
Repelling all my fears.

The breeze is slight
As I step outside
The music seems so near.

The gale which comes
Fans the flame to fire
Scorching singing heat

My legs turn numb
Couldn’t move on
Nor could I retreat.

And as I bore
The fire and heat
This promise I made to me

Like amorphous ore
That melts and hardens
Just so, would I have to be.


Posted by on May 10, 2011 in Poetry


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