Tuesday, April 26, 2016


Love, the illicit kind
Scarcely, the legitimacy
Sneaking away is thrill
Heightens the intimacy
Pacifying the prying eyes
Playing hide and seek
The rage of stealthy hideout
For each other, thirst bespeaks
Covert, one tries hard,
Forbidden fruits tasted
Other throws caution to wind
In so many actions stated
In passion, oblivious
Surreptitious glances
A tryst into verboten
With blatant advances

Onward in Optimism

A melancholic day
It began in earnest
Anxiety and panic
The heat at its sternest.
Nimbly, I tried hard
To maneuver my day
Opaquely stared back
While options, I weighed
Doomed and bleak
Words popped in my head
Dismissing it away,
In hope, I march ahead

Irrational ire

Livid, he turned pale
Impolite words slipped out
Pounding on the frail
The evil he began to spout
In knotted anticipation
His subjects tremble in fear
As he flounders in frustration
The ambience is austere
No rhyme nor reason
Is seen in his outburst
Irrationality the season
To ambiguity, cursed.

Saturday, April 23, 2016

A perfect day

Halting my wavering mind
From its turbulent thoughts
I brought a flicker of joy
To my life’s, be it ersatz.
Elated, we set out in tandem
Reminiscing the days past
A good day in the repertoire  
Amid memories amassed.

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Last Hurrah, or not

The innumerable photos,
The awed silence
The enthusiastic bravos
The victories of science
Milestones attained
By the human brains
Praises for each claimed
Reaching unknown terrains
To mars in a discount
Reusable rockets follow
Fascinating heights paramount
In success, mankind wallows.
Amidst all this gala
Unseen, unheard the ones,
They, with unbridled talent
Mostly facing the shuns
Fading into oblivion
The many worker bees
With not even a mention
They ready for a reprise

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Savored sustenance

Concocted, a meal
Prepared in great pomp
Traditional menus created
In a jiffy, bowls are filled.
The courses are many,
Flavors, loads of them  
Tangy, tart and spicy
Sweet, ripe and mellow.
Elaborately served in
The majestic banana leaf
In grace, it is served.
In artful sequencing
For each, a place and
Rightfully so. The flavor
Smacking deliciousness
Of gastronomic chow

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

In search of sagacity

A novice, I remain in
The field of life, day by day
I continue in my quota
Of apprenticing. Forever,
Or so it seems.
Age, a number I rack up
But wisdom, does it bring
Remains to be seen. I
Lay in wait for the
Epiphany, days of gray hair
Becoming of the learned.

A flowery tale in heirlooms

The Canterbury bells ring
every day at four o' clock
when the lassie panting
in a baby’s breath
fox gloved and in cotton
run across being
love in a mist, awaiting
the lads, prim in their
bachelor’s button, for the
the customary rite of love
in the morning glory
of the day after
black eyed Susan vine
remained a wallflower
in the Chinese houses
while the bells of Ireland
rang in the cosmos.

Monday, April 4, 2016


At arm’s length, I place
The many who seek me out,
There are an elite few
Closeness I can tout
Uncomfortable in proximity
I need my distance
No matter the reason.
This defines my existence
A step forward, if one takes
Instinctively I step back
Familiarity bounces off me
While I stay wrapped in a mack

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Three obsessions

A fixation to happy endings
In movies, I see. visions of cheer
Neatly tied up in bows
A fascination for storage I
Seem to harbor. Deep down
Within, everything I enclose
A passion for memories, the
Mania for photographs, frozen
In moment are the laughs


You can do no wrong
In my books, at least
In a pedestal I place
You, the highest among
Flawless, in demeanor
The flawed are others
Not a speck of dust
In your spotless life
It is just a game
They all seem to say
At the top echelons
You always stay
Stoic and solid, you
Barge ahead in grace
Accepting defeat in
Same breath as victory
Lasting, your legacy
Shall remain. A spot
In the world’s history
At the very lonely top.
Prompt courtesy: NaPoWriMo.net

Saturday, April 2, 2016

He said.. She said, they concurred

He said that life was meant
To be lived in the slow
Making memories not money
And not collecting baggage to tow.
She said, nothing short
Of a rat race, life was
Milestones to attain
And no time for a pause
He saw the beauty
In the mundane things
He promised to be the
Wind beneath her wings
She raced past in
Her dogged pursuit
Deserved accolades
And gaining her repute
Comfortable in their
Own unique skin
No place for conflicts
To idyll, their life was akin.

Chip of the block

A little bit of both
I am, I have heard
My father stands tall
My mother in gird
Of the same mold
And chip of the block
I seem to be of my
Parents, in chock
What I shall become
Shall feature me
The launch pad is
Solid, as it can be
The lessons are from them
Theirs, the values imbibed
Gently propping me up
While victories to me ascribed

Prompt Courtesy: NaPoWriMo,net

Friday, April 1, 2016