Six Poems


This poem is an imagination,
a fleeting thought,
a broken dream,
an unmet desire.
It is a conjurer,
a fortune-teller.
It knows only what
it needs to know
and tells only what
you need to hear.
This poem is created
from ecstasy and agony.


This poem is traffucked between
heat, sweat and fumes.
The tarmac burning in its eyes.
The pregnant sky is ready
to deliver, the parched crow
is waiting.


This poem is lingering
in a sanitized silence
between the meeting
and parting of life.
It crossed over,
then returned again to this world,
to see its body lying on a bed
controlled by a network
of tubes hanging from it.
The dark pierced into the light,
the light dissolved into the dark,
in a perplexing contradiction.
In a place of altered time,
somewhere between fear and reason,
words adrift from their sentences
are less and less coherent –
and yet so full of meaning.

This poem is in a state of fugue.


This poem is a vaporous toy,
a creäture of imagination.
It rolls its
slender frame
between my fingers,
Translucent, veiled thoughts
wrap me in a smoky warmth.
I watch its ethereal circle of light,
rings of smoke, their perfect seam
tinged blue, rising flawlessly
and mingling into
the misty night air.
Blue vapors of memory
float like an aching song
they rise ,take shapes and
break like waves on ocean shore.
Purple threads of maroon
fill my mind with marijuana dreams.
(originally written for The Smoking Book in 2009. Made some changes.)


this poem tiptoes barefoot on
cold wooden floorboards of emptiness
spooning you in its mind filled with
scents of sex, love and spices

This poem is a mosaic of razor-sharp words
designed for a purpose, an intention,
collected over the time from your
cleverly crafted conversations.


You And me – Three Poems Of Love Unrequited


Time stands still.
I linger,
like the empty pitcher
at the mouth of the village well
waiting patiently
to be filled.



You did not say a word.


I could sense your

  stoic, composed self

from across a thousand miles

as I whimpered

about things gone wrong.

What you said or failed to say,

how I felt, what I thought,

the conclusions I drew

from the things I masticated on,

the hurt, the pain, the want,

I furiously punched  it all.

Glad that I did not have to speak.

That in our technology powered relationship

there were gadgets that could  be used as crutches.

You remained silent.

Not a word.

I punched a few more keys

wrote this and that

and a few more other things.

 I felt pulled from all sides like an elastic band

and then released.

The sting of pain shot through my head

as my fingers tapped mindlessly.


exhausted by my meltdown

and hoping for a response ,

I waited.

Still Nothing.

“Say something.” I nudged.

Still nothing.

Just a cold silence.

You had begun to bury me already.

Minutes turned to hours,

night turned to day

and slowly fell into the dark ,

a silent dark,




dead silence

as wide as the distance

between us.

The clock ticked.

The cellphone breathed its last.


The pain returned with

greater vengengence,

concentrated at the corner of the eyes,

till the eyes softened

and tears began to recede

carrying the weight of a lifetime

then everything collapsed

I guess that’s when

the sky became overcast

and it began to rain.



That night never left me
It seeped into the hollow of my bones.
People leave
their absence doesn’t.
It goes where the loss 
goes to hide.
Inside the bones.
In the hollow.
filling it
with an immeasurable emptiness


between the known and the unknown .. poems

The days of Absence .. I curled up beneath a mossy stone beside the mountain stream and waited.


between the known and the unknown

I float

exiled to bottomless nights

out on dark waters





The ache hasn’t subsided nor has the yearning
Alone in my plastered grave
I raise a toast to solitude


in the shadows
lies the truth
the light an illusion
the line between them
whisper thin


autumnal trees,
the distant pecking of birds
shadows and shapes
dusty thoughts
the smell of old smoke
your words carrying scents
of practiced lies
glowing in their ego-
the evening waters
bleeding red


Creative minds are uneven 

filled with odd cravings

thoughts today are silent observers 

And I am at a “multiselfing” stage 

I think there is a calling

The word-weaver is meeting the dream-catcher


the ‘in-between-the-lines’ talker
the words- weapons
especially the unused ones

that lurk

in the spaces between

shadow words
saying everything
without actually saying
is an art
the power of unsaid
a strategist’s secret


Under the masks
a bloodless skull
staring at herself
in the mirror
evil is approaching
whose face will she wear tonight


Silence and Words – Poemas Cortos

your silence
cold, razor-sharp
my words
a shredded tapestry


your silence 

moves in the spaces

between my words

adding meaning to them


your silence 

an eternity 

between my two words

Yes or  NO


your silence 

a cacophony of 

choking practicalities

my words 

silence of 

untamed fantasies 









• billet-doux • – Assorted verses


my innermost desires
sensuous syllables
in blushed hues of red
enveloped in predawn love
sealed with kisses
silly me hopes
they will reach you 


and every moment
before a moment
you are there
so far away
and yet so close
and in your
this being and not being
my heart awaits its blossoming


I crossed the bridge of stars

and found my dawn

your dusk



like crushed roses

on white satin sheet


the morning after

you sure have a way with your mouth


Silence : Short Verses


My silence stops

at the threshold of your silence

touches it softly

and for that split second

reminiscent  I live




your silence drips like raindrops

on slanted window of my parched heart

and then slowly slides away

leaving a trail of memories






Me To You : Short Verses


A fleeting touch of your shirt

Just before we parted

Crisp lavender cotton

warmed by your heart

A fragrant memory I still carry

on my fingertips




In those moments  of loneliness

when your silence quietly comes

and stands  beside me

to watch the day merge into the night

I curb my urge to even feel its presence

lest it finds me intruding

and moves away



I swirled and danced in a drunken haze

spinning with euphoria of my love for you

But now all that is left is a hangover

Memory of you

and pain