POETRY

The many predicaments of a single woman

The many predicaments of a single woman

  She walks as a liberal icon among people who don’t realize their thoughts are their barbed wires. She'll march the streets for the disenfranchised, and maybe for those born with ugly faces, but not for them who have the talent for picking the wrong men. What about...

read more
Love made me do it

Love made me do it

As you slip and fall, my thoughts are along with you atop the death train – la bestia.   A smiling young man you were, one second ago, the next – a limp body in the overgrown unworn path. A heatstroke at 16 has sent you home sooner than you wished for.   But is any...

read more
Momentous

Momentous

It’s not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst. You want to know what it is?   It’s something you have or don’t more than I do, because there’s no straight finish line here. It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways with wasteful...

read more
When home is still here and we aren’t

When home is still here and we aren’t

Unlike refugees, who don't have a home behind or infront of them, we have a home. But,   Will it remember all those mornings that the woodpecker made mating calls from its roof? How on sleepless nights, someone read and made notes from a borrowed J. Krishnamurti's...

read more
ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ.. (Dear Refugee, my life must go on..)

ప్రియ శరణార్థీ! నా జీవితం ఇలా నడవనీ.. (Dear Refugee, my life must go on..)

* * * The original English version: Dear Refugee, my life must go on..  * నన్నల్లుకున్న వెచ్చని కార్డిగన్, మెత్తని నా అరచేతుల మధ్య పొగలు కక్కే ‘లికరస్’ టీ........... పౌర హక్కుల్ని పగటికలలుగా కనేందుకు ఈ నేపథ్యం సహజంగా లేదూ?   నువ్వూ, నేనూ పంచుకున్న ఆకాశం కప్పు క్రింద,...

read more
The mother of all emotions

The mother of all emotions

Before you think you can put a finger on love, Think of the time you saw the size of the butter stick in your mother's pie. Think about how all your life, you'll work hard enough to make your mother proud, Yet, you'll look up to see if the whole world has taken...

read more

Dear Refugee, my life must go on..

  It's not too unthinkable, sipping licorice tea in my cardigan, And day dreaming of a life of civil liberties.   Out of the window, I see stars coming out from under your sky, But on ground, I don't see the tears on your muddy faces.   I've only seen your life...

read more
Momentous

Momentous

It's not the lack of money that makes me cry like my heart is about to burst. You want to know what it is?   It's something you have or don't more than I do, because there's no straight finish line here. It ticks away silently mocking our indignant ways with wasteful...

read more
Perceiving my anthropology

Perceiving my anthropology

I don't know what moves him. I remember the day he came back home to hide his red eyes behind that newspaper after he lit his mother's pyre. This is the man, the brunt of all my emotions, whose lifetime fits in this poem. It's mostly the appalling nature of his...

read more
The Emigrant’s Anthem

The Emigrant’s Anthem

I Pursuing dreams, First steps Beckoning opportunities, Across oceans Proud sacrifices, Glistening eyes   II Anxious freedom, Fertile memories Loyal sentiments, Burning dedication Liberating happiness, Humbled notions   III Defending values, Honoring liberty Blood...

read more
To my estranged one

To my estranged one

Ok, I admit; I still have that shameful longingness. When you gathered everything else up and left me to myself, And, when the war of words ended, It was clear that the love between us had begun to show cracks. It would never happen to me, was the conviction I always...

read more
Yours singularly

Yours singularly

Always close by my side, he mocks me. Calling the lack of endearment around me, self-inflicted. Late in the afternoon, at work, “All these people around you need you to break their bread”, he mulls. At the bar, he demands to know why I hadn't invited myself to her...

read more
Still standing, still standing..

Still standing, still standing..

  The below is a first person account of a village tree who lost the friendship of a small boy to the big charm of the city..  * At day break, I wait for your shrill cries of laughter to pierce my ears.. I ponder while I drink the primary cocktail, a gleaming red sun,...

read more

Dear sons: Full disclosure

A life's worth of choices. Subjected to, day in, day out. Freedom of expression. Empathy exercises. Vulnerability followed by weakness. Protection from cold. Letting the homeless die from it. Health of the children. Love. A gentle kind word. People who didn't give a...

read more
Child bearers of the world

Child bearers of the world

Distracted mothers create loneliness. Those children celebrate uncertainty. And out of the imperfect first steps, They quickly thrive and learn, no love is earnest. Fathers cry when planes disappear. Worlds unite to search the heavens and oceans. Nothing brings back...

read more

Tea Rings

© The Internet There is the love of mother that needs no senses to feel its expression.  And, that’s where I begin my journey of this life with you. In that vintage picture, I think of how you became a woman coming of age.  Wounds of the uprooting I haven’t seen yet,...

read more
Temples in our Hearts

Temples in our Hearts

While others make smoldering burial grounds in memory, those who have never made promises to make us laugh have their own temples in our hearts. Stories that don’t need our mother’s tongue to be told better, are these secret wishes that transcend cultures and...

read more
Retribution?!?!

Retribution?!?!

If I knocked on your door for a cup of water for my parched throat, Would you be able to tell, I am not your next door neighbor..? If not, then, why this thirst for my life.. ???? * Near these foothills, of some of the world's coldest mountains.. I hear stifling...

read more

Are you a mother?

Have you ever wondered about your fear of death, when the only thing you have always been petrified about is your child digging into that forbidden closet or the bathroom cupboard to find out the secret stash of “things”? Have you ever looked down on the bathroom...

read more

I can muse a poem

The mother inside of me finds no shortage of spontaneity and wit. I can be surprisingly superfluous when I am lecturing my child. Trouble arrives when I call myself a writer, and that’s when I get deliberate. When I dictate myself to the writer’s rigor, dictation gets...

read more

The Emigrant’s Anthem

I Pursuing dreams, First steps Beckoning opportunities, Across oceans Proud sacrifices, Glistening eyes   II Anxious freedom, Fertile memories Loyal sentiments, Burning dedication Liberating happiness, Humbled notions   III Defending values, Honoring liberty Blood...

read more

Pathos..

The mornings hang here, until.. I peek out of the window and hurry out of the house for the next door.. Determined to find an answer.. I gently turn the key and push myself into the hallway.. Moving past discolored leaves and curtains.. I pass them, a lot of them, the...

read more
Still standing, still standing..

Still standing, still standing..

  The below is a first person account of a village tree who lost the friendship of a small boy to the big charm of the city..  * At day break, I wait for your shrill cries of laughter to pierce my ears.. I ponder while I drink the primary cocktail, a gleaming red sun,...

read more

Like a dry flower in my diary

Photo courtesy: Thomas Campbell She would rise and shine with me.. She would part with anything for me that I loved or desired.. Today, she might be a woman, but just between us, there is no time travel.. Her gentle, sweet, kind spirit wasn't a match for my boisterous...

read more

An Affair with Vanity

The excitement is mutual, the passion contagious. The play of his naughty hands, the smile on my lips. The smell of his breath, the kiss on my feet. The tingling down into his toes, the long black hair on my slithering spine. Smiles with the mirror in the morning, all...

read more
%d bloggers like this: