A little girl sat on the swing set When I took the dog before dawn. I almost missed her quiet face But the moon was still in form Her face was streaked with tears In her hands she clutched a cloth With which she tried to cover her face Fear upon her visage wrought. I…
Author: ipsyb
mother, dreamer, lawyer, poet, blogger, writer....jack of many trades....inter alia.
No poem today
I will write no poem today I will just chill, not fret about meter And spend the morning Nursing my coffee and Sudoku. I will not write a stanza today No deep thoughts to construe, No yearnings to express… No quatrain or haiku. I will binge-watch a TV show About haunted houses or spies And…
The poem I was writing
Died a senseless death The body waits In the crowded funeral homes For the rich In lime covered mass graves Of the poor Tortured and twisted In the agony of birth Breathless and blown By gathering storm clouds The cadaver awaits A decent burial.
I: Itinerant : The roads I take
On my way to work I often shut my eyes and in my mind I am on a road that does not race through a concrete jungle Where there are no buildings or the jostle of cars Where roads wind through mist ridden hills Lined with pine trees that rise above the clouds Curving through…
H: Hazard: This poem
I wrote no poem yesterday, The words dried up, constricting My throat, like the onset of a bad cold, A hacking cough and fever. Fever is a bad word now, Being sick is a colossal mistake. The cousin passed away last week No, it wasn’t the Novel Corona virus She had been suffering, and was…
F: Faces: Limitations
My eyes are mere windows With which I watch the world, My face is but a mirror, Behind which I hide my soul. Charm me not into believing That I am anything more than that Let my dreams not become bigger Than something I am not. Treat me kindly, still Lest I shatter into pieces…
E: Edges : Time
Time moves differently here, Slowly, sluggishly, lips clinging To the edge of the glass. Time weeps unshed tears here Fears that went unnoticed Bursting open scabs on the wounds Time laughs at mankind here Those who think they can divide us Do we not all bleed when hurt? Time sees our true selves here As…
In praise of women
Who is she? Who is she that shines at night Glittering, as upon a stage? Who is it that braves the crowds Every day on the local train? Who is the lady who hides a breast Under her sari as her child feeds? Who is the woman wildly reaching For the alms you throw at…
D: Death-toll: Comfort
There are no opioids here, No wisdom to be shared. The bitterness of the pill Is directly proportional To your love for everything Human. Which is not always Lovable. Yet there are people Who hold our hearts Those that we think of and Wish to keep safe. Alas, the virus has no country or calling….
ipsita banerjee 