Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Sunday, August 25, 2019

Amber inkstains

Poetic droplets,
swirling, twirling in goblets,
like vintage traces
sensually alluring,
psychically exalting.


The amber inkstains, 
randomly spilled on splash-screens, 
mesmerizing words.


Saturday, August 24, 2019

Hare Krishna

The young cowherd, the god-child,
the prankster,
the brazen, besotted lover,
the flautist, the divine hero,
the universal supreme being,
the omnipresent, the omnipotent,
the omniscient, the elemental and inclusive,
how do I define thee?
The ink runs dry,
the paper insufficient,
the words, incommensurate.
Draft after draft,
I write and rewrite,
my greetings for you.
I fail in my attempts.
The verse, incomplete,
bereft and wanting.
I scroll
through the incessant mental-chatter
to find a fitting word
to begin the next draft.
Hare Krishna.
I pause.
I look no further.
The verse is complete.
Coherent.
Comprehensive.
Commensurate.

“Hare krishna”.



Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Song birds

Delicate ties of fragile thread,
running deep, profound.
Birds from flock,
defined by feathers, flights and songs,
bonded by blood, wired by sacraments,
we grow.
We change. We drift. We wander.
We stay. Rooted. Connected. Enduring. Surviving.
The knot secure but loose,
allowing enough space
to hold “me” and "mine” together.
The elements of zodiac,
the air, earth, water and fire,
so distinct and yet so dependent.
And like the constants of linear equations,
we reside in hearts.
Consistently. Continuously.
Subtle whispers,
slightest ripples
are enough
to stir us for each other.
For we are all but
large parts of one another.



Friday, August 2, 2019

Desires

Amateur desires.
Young. Naïve. Pure.
Tugging at an equally amateur heart.
Irresistible impulses.
Tantalizing lure.
Of the brimming chalice.
The pulsating life.
The fragile fragments.
The simmering smoldering embers.
The quivering moon.
The yearning, the longing for monsoons.
The savory flavors lilting at the lips,
their taste lingering.
Till long after.