In the moonlit path we walked together ‘There are wild foxes here,” you said, I took a step closer Wondering if we would see them unless They saw us first and swallowed us whole. My hair caught in branches that swept low, pulling At our clothes. “It’s eerie,” you smiled, disentangling the strands, “but beautiful,” I…
Tag: poems
N: Nocturne #NaPoWriMo
I sit in the dark While the house sleeps The familiar sighs The gentle creaks The thump of a tail All the sounds I own As the house becomes home And I can rest in peace.
I: Inquisitive #NaPoWriMo
If someone wrote a poem about me, What would the lines say? There is a woman who walks alone Every evening. Would they see The children on my hands The dogs in the swing of my arms The limp I carry as I drag one foot Just a little bit, the men I’ve kissed…
H: Hopelessness #NaPoWriMo
There’s a hole in the roof where the storm came through That night when it poured and the wind blew In gales, up-rooting trees, followed by thunder Lightning striking my fears asunder. I must have blacked out…for when I woke The sky was smiling sweetly and was blue I waited, I waited for three days…
D: Deathwish #NaPoWriMo
Have you ever wondered… How death would taste? Would it slip between your lips Like Spaghetti Bolougnaise? Or would it be tart like the apples That we picked in your garden? Would it melt in the mouth Like raspberry Bavarian? Could it be bitter As artichokes or kale? Or would Death be sweet As our…
Charm #NaPoWriMo
What is that thing you wear, that winds all the way around your wrist, the edges chafing into my skin where it presses against my heart unseen but for a tiny pattern etched in between the lines that I cannot erase…. no matter how much I pretend I do not try.
Betrayal #Napowrimo
On my 18th birthday I was out with friends Doing what raucous teenagers do, we loitered And ate rubbish and finally went home, laughing At something stupid. My father had returned Home early so he could be with me on my day. I saw the hurt in his eyes but he never said a…
Anguish #NaPoWriMo
. That clock is not working, as always, A paper pasted on its face The same faces litter the library The same voices call out in place. I too go about my business as usual Hammering at the keyboard Downing coffee and conversation And forget that you are dead. Except now and then…
C: Cinquain
Cinquain is a short, usually unrhymed poem consisting of twenty-two syllables 2, 4, 6, 8 and 2 in five lines. Bitter-sweet Are memories I gather, my soul feeds Drumming at walls I have built, now Weakened.
Eating the worm
I am super excited to announce that my book of poetry, “Eating the Worm,” published by ATLA is now available on Amazon! 🙂 In India, the link is: India In UK and EU, go to UK And for my friends in the the USA and thereabouts US. And do leave a review, friends, I would…
If a song…
If a song could tell a story what a tale it would tell… Of sweaty nights and wild exploits spouting from a bottle made in Hell. Of the lush kisses when it found a voice Pouting lips that caressed it as it fell. Of lonely nights clutching at mottled sheets Faces streaming with tears that…
