liminal spaces

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/ forgetful
regretful
a mindful path of
multi-storied 
v  e  r  s  e  s /

                 searching
                 for liminal
            s  p  a  c  e  s

observing
those pondering
f  a  c  e  s

*

    . . .  o p p o n e n t s
       aware
          contenders—
       beware
             
      of those doubtful
         intentions
               unspoken
  d i s s e n t i o n s . . . 

sketched
on damp paper—
and never 
aired

*
/ forgetful
regretful
a mindful path of
multi-storied 
v  e  r  s  e  s /

                 searching
                  for liminal
            s  p  a  c  e  s

fierce like 
assonant
traces

you can
now 
view— 

though
I  n e v e r
b   a   r   e   d

allure

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allure, allure,
a silent sulk
a smile,
a doubt

                ~ A change 
        of  r o u t e ~

a fear of drought,
these crispy beds.
the linens—blue

           ~ The eternal 
      s h a d e s ~

with open eyes
these thought parades—
I sense them all

           ~ The storm 
   p e r v a d e s ~

it rains and rains,
and soaks the truth—
all magic rites

      ~  A silent 
       s u l k ~           

allure, allure
this hidden truth.
a smile,
some doubt,

     ~ This endless 
           s h o u t ~

the sweaty words,
these crispy beds.
the sirens—blue

     ~ The calmness 
           f a d e s ~ 

with open eyes
those thought parades—
I sense them all

                         ~ T h e  s t o r m 
     p   e   r   v   a   d   e   s ~ 

Lights On

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Feeling homesick
all stranded
left the building
keys inside it—
no way back

                He’s now so lost

Lights are on
the lamp
still shining
those shelves—
empty

                Books all gone

Who’s the liar
who’s the beggar
who’s 
      the
thief—

                This empty soul

Feeling homesick
all stranded
left the building
keys inside it—
no way back

                He’s now so lost

He’s got
talent
he’s a genius
such smoked mirage—
portrait, 

                Pawn

ice tickles

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       Moving on 
        with life—
       enhancing 
    m         o          s  
          o          d

                       / ice won’t 
                      break
                     as you skate
                               o n /

              Drawing
                on this 
               sensual,
            s l i p p e r y
   s           r           a         e
        u           f           c     

                        / enraptured
                               by those
                         i c e
                         t i c k l e s /

         Feet moving
          to the sound
               of a 
           s i l e n t
w       i          p         r
     h        s          e        

/ ice won’t 
        break
   as you skate
 o n /

                    An ageless 
    s  u  p  e r  n  o  v  a
                   in this 
                          perpetual
 
                w       i       n      t      e      r
              
                                s
                      
                                        k
              
                              y 

writerly

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I read
overread,
skim-read,

d
   a 
      n 
          c
                 e 
       
           &

 r                 a            
          e                   d   
                              

          .           

and, 
while
r e a d i n g

b e t w e e n
            t   h   e 
    l         i        n       e        s

I keep losing
       my
             t r a i n 
          
                  o   f 

   t            o            g            t
        h            u             h       

          .             .

I don’t wanna
read
overread—
or 
misread !

d
  r 
      i 
          n
                k 

           &

 r                 a            
          e                   d           
  

.          .             .

      
           S o ,

             I 
w      r       i       t       e


***********

It’s been a while since my last post
(Or my last writing activity,
 for that matter)

Now, 
slooowly,
getting back to 
writing mood

Please bear with me -
While I invoke my
Free verse muse

Happy to be back, 
beautiful,
naughty, 
dark &
clever 
WordPress souls !

ink rain weather

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Walking barefoot
on fresh grass
rain keeps
smearing
this old
draft

                   / Faint
                    reflections 
                        o f 
                     o u r
                  d a m p
                 r  e  a  l  i  t  y  /

Dizzy letters
all get 
blurred
eerie story—
last line
slurred

              / D r i z z l i n g lines
                   in ink rain
                    weather /

Books all
tattered,
O, too frail!
this ink
watered down—
too pale

All these stories
drowning, bold;
fading lines
on torn page
drawn

                  / Faint
                    reflections 
                        o f 
                     o u r
                  d a m p
                 r  e  a  l  i  t  y /

(Were they
really any
good, though?
I wonder 
now—
too late)

           / D r i z z l i n g  lines
                   in ink rain
                    weather /

p o e t r y. s o l d i e r s.

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Dreading the fictions
and their inner imaginings
willingly embracing
the poetry 
in those eager
fingers

                  / Unforgiving Eyes /
 
               Will you remember those words
               W h e n  y o u  a r e  o l d -
               W h e n  s h e ’ s  g o n e ?

Poetry soldiers
missing in action—
silent whispers
that do not speak 
wonders, yet reveal
half truths

              / Unforgiving Lies /

             Will you remember their words
             W h e n  s h e’ s   o l d -
             W h e n  y o u ’ r e  g o n e ?

Dreading the fictions
and their inner imaginings
willingly embracing
the poetry 
in those eager
fingers

              / Unforgiving Minds /

Like the 
poetry soldiers
missing in action—
yearning for fictions
to evolve from
abstractions

Minds, eyes,
white lies,
soft words—
barely whispered—
under 
b  l  a  z  i  n  g
     e    n    e    m    y  
         s     k     i     e    s

spy

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She yearned to 
become a spy
yet she failed 
so miserably

She walked 
the long walk
and dressed
in hued tones

She hushed the
sharp tongues
and asked for
bad karma

For those
that would 
play her—
the good ones
obeyed her

Lila yearned to 
become a spy
yet she failed 
so miserably

She wore her 
dark shades,
unravelled
dark plots

/ with feline intention
and birdlike precision /

Yet her wings
she did not
want to
get
w
e
t

So she’d run
under cover
on rainy 
days

It was always
warmer
by that
fireplace

She yearned
to become a spy—
Yet she failed
so miserably

failed reader

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I wish I’d never 
let you read
any of the stories
in my draft
book
 
Since I always knew 
you’d just skim 
through 
those 
pages

( Lousy reader
that you were—
now, your time, pronto!
to get back 
to school )

This is
a book 
that will
never get
published

Too bad you 
trashed 
the draft 
upon first
reading
 
Too good
you’ll never
ever get
to read 
the end,

One so tenderly 
written in my
doctor’s 
handwriting -
undecipherable,

for
my 
Failed 
R e a d er
E x t r a o r d i n a i r e