Category: Poetry&Musings

To start a poem about bruises Is to say there’s something fleeting in my body, & I’m a home for cellos plucked off their strings So, there’s no way I can make music from my memories, To tell where a city’s fire met my chin…

In Father’s rhyming wall clock, whose tune zooms the path of the morning’s heart and ‘ding’ counting, makes way for dawn’s arrival. In the awakened sky, beaming rays through the window; in the early cries of chicks, trailing about defensive mother hens; in Father’s generous…

A City Our body is a broken city Inside a broken city The way a city burns & break, Grief and hunger have broken & beaten us A house burns, You put the fire out. But when the whole street is on fire, How do…

If Dog were Man and Man were Dog would Dog choose to have Man as pet? Or, would Dog spit and despise the thought out of distrust or out of respect that Man be honoured or that Man be feared? Would Man be greater or…

Ever wondered why our mothers tied wrappers around their abdomens instead of wearing them? Maybe because, one can never conveniently adorn one’s self with grief; It has to be strung around her lower neck in a slipknot of tears, tears tucked to the wrapper’s ears…

6-14-17 This is all a love story Tender Pretending to be solid on the surface and beyond our binding skin Instead, solidity is false through substance and a mindset By the end of the night, it’s a broken heart Too tender to handle    …

Things I won’t tell you I won’t tell you what it means when you see yourself walk naked in your dreams. I won’t tell you – what it is if in the same dream, your kinky hair knots itself into tangles. I won’t tell you…

               When Love Engulfed Your Soul I walked through the memory lanes yesterday and arrived at the day I first touched your palms, just like the Moon touches the face of the firmament and whispers coolness as its arrival.…

The night seems too long, & it feels like the day will break not. Reminiscing about those especial moments. All the tranquil nights, when everything about us used to be right. The night seems too long, galloping behind the evening tide, but the thought of…

It was 2am The moon was out and bright I stepped out, laying bare on the grass Looking up, there was something unusual I guessed the stars were on a break The absence of the stars made it seem like afternoon If only afternoons could…