Some words flutter with life
In some hands
You could feel their warmth
In their breath
The stony heart melts
Throbs
Dances to their tune
Their facets glow
Brightening up the dark lanes
Of a battered mind
Their sharp edges
Slice off the malignant growth
Of pedantry
All living words
Birthed
From the womb
Of a fiery dream
Are destined
To be stars
To be written in light
I am amazed
At the perpetual festivity
All around us
The moment a lonely shy bud
Hidden from the beholders
Slowly blooms
Opening out her
Hesitant petals
There’s honeyed joy
Everywhere
Even in death
There’s no dearth
Of jubilation
The excited ants run
To and fro
With a death news
Hundreds celebrate
And drag a defeated
Dragonfly for a feast
All the blanks
Are duly filled up
When my heart turns to stone
The sun still shines
When a mother loses her son in
bomb blast
Quietly flows the Ganges
When the air of mistrusts breed
enmity
The fragrant lotus blooms
Our loss is only our loss
There’s no scarcity of joy
In this paradise of life
Those iridescent pearl drops
Shoot rainbow
Each one a memory
Of the wave
That rose once upon a time
In a heart
That hid an emerald sea
Where a water nymph
Spoke in the language
Of promise
A twine of love
Labored hard
To string each dream piece
Building up takes a life time
Not breaking
Almost like the snipping
Of a stray lock of hair
Within minutes
The cord is pieced
But iridescent memories
Remain forever
Posted for Mary’s
prompt Broken @ Poetry Jam
It’s a traditional Mughlai main
course
All you need is Basmati, vegetables,
Spices, saffron, dry fruits, ghee
And the most important of all
Is your love, love and love
Love for the ingredients
Love for culinary art
Love for those whom you serve
If one of the items in the list
is missing
Mughlai aroma will flit
With it the taste
And you are done for
Written for MTB @ dVerse PoetsPub where we are to write ‘a list poem’
Glint of stars in eyes
A whole sky in two hearts
Today is a rose
It’s not true that I never played
with dolls
It’s also true that I played with
bats and balls
A wild child with unkempt hair
was me
Who loved climbing a special
mango tree
Spoilsport red ants would declare
war
Taking the gazelle form we’d jump
afar
Limbs were in place but if the news
got home by some dolt
Spanks were not spared to make
sure the child wasn’t spoilt
Long time ago all this took place
Seems yesterday as I ride time’s
crest
I’ve kept that child secured
inside me
Who often whispers about that
magical tree
Where that childhood still hangs
like fronds
And inspires with Nature to make
bonds
Sleepless
eyes
Work harder for a scoop
To
feed thousand minds drooling in wait
The more spicy the happenings the more is the
sale
Drunkard
causes Princess D’s demise?
Beehive world’s busy for
Breaking news
Sleepless eyes
Guard us on frontier
Desert storms and blizzards blow over
Enemy
bullets often snuff out these lives
Unsung they return home in coffin
No news channels for them
Our heroes
The poem is written in Triquain. Syllable
division per line is as follows:
3 - 6 - 9 - 12 - 9 - 6 - 3 (and so on)
Written for Mary’s prompt News @ dVersePoetics
