Tag Archives: poets

Colour of your gaze

I could keep writing for years 

And never run out of words for you

But I don’t know how to put these mere alphabets together 

To paint your eyes 

And their transcendent hues 

I don’t know if  I can ever exactly describe their colour

And how they looked under the sun 

When we were walking into the woods 

And you smiled at me 

I cross my heart 

I wouldn’t call myself a poet 

Until I find the word for it-

The tincture 

that haunts my thoughts

With sunkissed horizons and sunset blues  




I am not afraid of love
I put it to sleep
in the chambers of my heart
and slit its throat

I am not scared of you
Your pretty face couldn’t be a nightmare
if it wanted to
You have no weapons
Just hearts and flowers
Those flowers will wilt
and the heart wont beat if I pull it out

I am saving myself
from the parasite inside me
and you think
I am running from you?

Parallel Universe


Oft’ I marvel at poets and their words

Oft’ I wonder,

If poetry is my escape

or an orifice that articulates my depth

Oft’ I dread that day when I might run out of words

or be spent of feelings

Wading through such musings,

Oft’ have I concluded –

Poetry is my odyssey to a parallel universe

which reckons no bounds

bounded within the frontier of fantasy,

Where I can be a bird, a tree

A desert,a sea

I can be a goddess or a whore,

The ghost of a lover,

A devil or a saviour from an ancient lore;

My words could be-

A bouillon of seduction,

A promise of love,

A lament of separation,

A war cry,

The theme of a funeral march,

or a jamboree of glee;

This cuneiform universe knows all my pains and sorrow,

Recognises all my lovers and haters alike

And like this realm of cruel reality that commands me

My hold on my words is as staunch as the depth of my emotions

On my call shall the galaxies here laugh or cry

Upon my wish shall I go where to I can fly