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.

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…

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….

C: COVID-19: Lockdown

Even as I slept I dreamt about the poem I’d write Today. In the silence it comes back to me “How to make a garlic sizzle”. Of course  You melt the butter and let the pod hiss  In the pan. I realise of course it was just a dream Who writes of garlic and everyday…

B: Blotchy : Messy

I always hated to stay  Between the lines The lines on the page The lines of my face My colours splashed   Outside the box Messy, they called me,  And messy I stayed.  I had my share of trouble  Straying from the lines The lines that life drew Confining me in walls I will not be…

Corpses

We are all dying here, some slower than others The corpses that mattered are calling out to us That phone you bought will not reach the network Where the corpses that matter are claiming us. The man crossing the road out of sight, crosses Not knowing how far is too far, how far Till we…

Catching the moon…

I caught the moon in a mirror As she skittered across the sky The road was long and dark And the forest heaved a sigh. There were no signboards around No network to guide us home. Silence reigned unabated Save for the repetitive drone Of my heart, still beating Inside a human role Of this…

To my girls… (I stop and stare)

I stop and stare. There’s  a thumping in my chest As you walk away And I keep moving for if I look back I will cry.   I stop and stare. But it’s not my hands I see I see you from long ago Innocent smiles and naughty grins And I sigh.   The day…

The piano (To Enta)

The tune on that piano carries Into the night. I stop. Whatever I am doing, soothed By the sound. Tinkering notes Calming, clamouring to be heard Voices from long agoIn this quiet night When all is still…borne.  Still, my beating heart, turn down The thunder. The storms rage on But we will beat the tempest…

To Amisha (Someday Rapunzel)

Someday Rapunzel will chop off her hair And leap into the forest, undeterred by thorns That lay waste the garden outdoors The garden she never knew up close The garden just beyond her reach. And  She will taste the wild berries and learn not to gag She will explore under shrubs and trees and hide Among…

To Mesho (returning from Kalimati Jn. a.k.a. Tatanagar)

I don’t like how you lie there But your eyes search me out Looking for a familiar face Among a sea of servants. I like the way you talk Memories from the old earth Your youth, my father, the stories That scramble to be heard. I watch you as you try To lift those atrophied…