Song of my soul

I heard the chickadees
Sing a merry song
Intertwined with
The one that was
Already playing in my soul.
– Varina


The silent rhythm

The curtains flow
In response to a blowing wind
Overlapping the folds
Ducking beneath each other
Swaying merrily
And unfolding an exquisite
Paisley dream.
Inebriated with the silent rhythm,
I summon a good night’s sleep.

Night sky

Solemn stars in the night sky
Like a dotted dream
On a stretch of azure;
Creamy overcast.
A sparkle of young grey
On the horizons
Merging with the mainstream
In a fit of frenzy.
Yonder, I see the bolt
Of electric blue;
In a fleeting second, it’s gone
And replaced
With the pouring staccato
Of rainfall on my roof.

Scooping love

I scoop the love
From the expanse
Of your outstretched arms.
And I take pleasure
In savouring it
Ever so s-l-o-w-l-y

Marionette of your dreams

My arms ache with the weight
Of the emotions
I’ve gathered;
Long years of togetherness
Kiss my feet
With a hushed goodbye.
The fiery scent
Of woody musk you
Stings me over and over
Again; I give up.
You blew neat
Sawdust into my
Irreproachable vision-
Yet, you guffawed, a laugh
So deep and vexatious;
It still pounds in my ears.
The church bells ring;
It’s the time of atonement.
Do you hear?
The garden lilies have
Spoken them all
In one full servile sway,
The words you failed to me.
You spat and tainted my soul
With words of dishonor.
I waited.
You overlooked what brought
You to me in the first place.
I feel dark and tenebrous.
No, those overcast skies
Are no more delightful.
They moan
Like you and I do.
Tonight, when I stand against
The might of the storms-
I shall liberate myself
From the solicitude ,if any,
I have towards you.
Because, until then
I shall continue to be
The marionette of your dreams.


The humid taste

Of the summer weather

Lingers surreptitiously

in the air;

Scalding my senses

In a desire so relentless

And insatiable.

My skin has grown coarse

Without your touch;

My vision obscure

And my tongue grazes

The palate in solitude.

I hear oblivion

Pounding wildly…

I i-n-h-a-l-e and

E-x-h-a-l-e the sullen

Wafting sentiments of

What you and I

Did last summer…


The broken pieces of a mirror
Reflecting a self
In a million different ways;
And wafting
In mock astonishment
Tearing away my identity
Dissecting in half
And a thousand times over.
The pain has succumbed
Dividing within itself;
It fades away in tranquillity
As the self prepares
Patiently for a
Different confrontation
By another mirror;
Waiting to be shredded again
A million Times over…