Moonlighting muses creep through inner bookshelves
Side stepping their illusionary shadows, I wait for night
Chiding them gently for sneaking inside
Greedily absorbing the inner glints of hushed words
their perceptive feelers penetrate my unseen whorls
They insist on sliding through my soft tunnels
Trolling me in with their bait of wanton delights
I yield, letting them romp with my soul strings
Playing with memories of lost bouts of blind sleep
Till they beg me
To release them from my pen……
Between the ornate presswood bed
and the simple wooden desk,
A window remains ever open
The creak-less calm lulling
the eager thought bubbles
into a soft, lapping wavelet of dreams.
As the satiated room goes quiet, I rise
pushing back the sleepily entreating arms with ease
And walk steadily towards the moonlit patch
spotlighting the blank sheet
on which my pen sleeps…..
The window stares
at the dim street lights
-the eerie eyes of the cold night.
Sporadic gusts tug at the careless knot
releasing my impatient tresses
like a grateful stole falling over the starkness,
comforting and cradling shivering bodies
consumed by dreamless fatigue
far removed from winter’s charms-
hot coffee and a book
And the pen begins to weep…
First published in Indian Ruminations
Let Earth burn, explode, become past tense
Tottering under the onslaught of violence
Let soulless bodies gently slide
into the cosmic chasm, deep and wide.
Gun-toting youth, ships fallen to pirates
Rain of death on a wedding stage.
Game of blame, a talk-show, a threat
Yeah, anything to grab a piece of fame.
Writhing lives, infernal mines
Sorry images, sordid love loops.
Milk every tear of an unlucky survivor
yoke the stories, get the big scoop.
Hold fast to power, it’s a tiger’s tail
A tsunami, a Katrina to divert, to regale.
A breaking story, soon a deleted mail
Text, tweet till the battery fails.
Be the leader, be the first
to lose our humanity, to curb our heart.
Illuminate our houses, darken the globe,
they are giving it free, so let’s fight for more.
On and on till we succeed
in mirroring the fate of the dinosaur.
Do we want any more?
Death shrouds bomb blasts, yet we will take the train.
If the roof is blown away, let’s party in the rain .
Mend broken bridges, pull down the barbed fence
Better late than never, to make humble amends.
Nothing to lose, if we can all earn our bread.
And refrain from shedding a fellow being’s blood.
Leave the killing to the beasts of prey
Follow our hearts, let nature lead the way.
Let soulful music gently glide
Across the love’s oceans, deep and wide.
Live life with a pinch of common sense
lest our Earth burn , explode, become past tense.
Published in Indian Ruminations on 4rth June 2011