Aroma of love


Aroma of fresh coffee
assumes its vital role
as a replacement for irresistible love
diffusing effortlessly in between moments
when a conversation ceases awkwardly
reminding of something that was alive once
but cannot be bothered to be
unearthed from its grave now
The creamy one turns away
from the richly bitter steam of the black twin
quelling a ‘two half empty cups under the bed’ nostalgia
when drunken lips rubbed, arched and were eaten
in froth-less silence
©Reena Prasad



At the river bank is a girl
with an open book
trying to read a closed man
who hides himself in layers of words
and his soul in a fistful
of trapped breeze
He saunters through the pages
reading her thoughts
his heart stuffed into deep plots
She sits with a fishing rod
and pail to put her catch in
and all she gets is a breeze

©Reena Prasad 16th May 2013


Two for joy

Been mulling over inane love stories- real and bollywood and this is what results 🙂

Two for joy

Two tigers lie
outside a log cabin
licking paws, scratching themselves
amiable in the sunlight
till they spot her at the window
tips of their tails twitch and jerk
the thought runs around
who gets the prey?
the one who loves her
or the one she loves
her fate the same either way.
©Reena Prasad 10th Jan 2013

He roams in a human form..beware

Milder specimens of the same species
roam silently all around
caressing outlines of females
who pander to their whims
They hide in the shadows
around every candle held high
Retreating a few steps back
if the light falls upon them
Silent on hearing our collective roars
but hunters when in packs chasing a lone deer
Their strength lies in numbers
in the injured, mutilated psyche of the victim
who becomes one the moment she spots them
She is defeated first by her history of defeat
crucified by the ones donning a protective mantle
and mercilessly crunched with a snigger
along with cups of roadside tea.
©Reena Prasad 29th Dec 2012

Of snakes and ladders

The door shut, a loud bang
The game became an obsession
From a window, I watched your anger grow
till it made you turn on your heel
and there behind you were several doors
all flung open
now that mine was closed
and you did what I wanted you to
Chose the one, not nearest but the best
that lead you up several floors
like the ladder next to the huge snake’s jaw
which you hoped to get with each throw
And I sit on the other side of the forgotten door
waiting for a last knock
watching the serpent‘s tail
edge close

©Reena Prasad  13th Dec. 2012

A deserted battlefield


A deserted road yawns its displeasure
as I creep along its side
on hands and knees
lest they notice I am alive
My skin already brown, still clothed
to match their dusty tyre tracks
My hair camouflaged so as
not to raise their hackles
if their roving eyes notice me
Alive in a softer form
drawing ire for daring to breathe
in their presence
I who suckled them
infusing colour into their frail bodies
must now tremble
draped in black?
My savaged core
no longer sheds tears
I have paid up in full
the penalty for bearing and loving monsters
and soon they will walk the empty streets
as symbols of wretched, inhuman egos
as mutilators of the female flesh
having failed to subdue my spirit
having failed to dim my light
clutching leaking wombs that fail to register
their puny thrusts.

©Reena prasad 23rd Dec 2012