Friday, 9 November 2012

Aimless Waves

I see with glee
The great sea roar
Like me – aimless.

Written for FormForAll - Than Bauk at dVersePoets hosted by Raivenne.

"The Than-Bauk is a three line “climbing rhyme” poem of Burmese origin. Conventionally a witty saying or epigram, it’s even shorter than a haiku, but a lot more structured. Each Than-Bauk is three lines of four syllables each with the rhyme on the fourth, third and second syllables of each line respectively.
O. O. O. a.
O. O. 
a. O.
a. O. O. "

Friday, 19 October 2012

Paradoxical Phoenix

A phoenix
imprisoned in
the frozen cage
of decisions

A frozen cage
mounted on
a red hot iron table
of dreams

Hot iron table
placed in
the ice cold room
of desires

The ice cold room
deep within
an ignited castle
of darkness

The ignited castle
surrounded by 
snow-covered forest
of thoughts

Snow-covered forest
floating lackadaisically
in a volcanic ocean 
of regrets 

The volcanic ocean 
screaming in silence 
in the frigid planet 
of paradoxes 

Sunday, 7 October 2012

Light Food

Lost in the wood
In search of food
I met an old talking tree called Montry
Who taught me a botany lesson for free

I asked him curiously 
How do you get your food?
Curtly he replied
That's simple. I do photosynthesis 

Oh yes. How foolish of me
I had completely forgotten about it
Feigning my ignorance he said
Let me show you how it happens

He touched me with his branch
Decorated with tender leaflets
Suddenly I began to shrink 
To a size smaller than atoms

With my new subatomic form
I was able to see large light balls
Falling all around me 
They are the photons, the tree said 

Climbing onto one of the branches
I anchoring myself to one of the photons
As it jumped into a lush green leaf
Welcome to my kitchen said Mr,Montry 

The photon plunged into a structure
Oval shaped and bounded by two walls
Filled with a fluid - Of DNA, proteins et al
He said You are in one of the chloroplasts now 

Once upon a time they were separate cells
Some of my single celled ancestor engulfed them 
From then on they took over the role of the chef 
Blessed with their special pigment called chlorophyll

They contains special structures called quantosomes
That's where all the actual cooking takes place 
Would you like to see it in detail ?
Yes of course I heard myself say 

The photon I was riding on bumped into a green molecule
Due to the collision impact , two bigger spheres jumped out 
I jumped onto one of those, going through a sequence of reactions
At the end of the ride I became part of a molecule called NADP

With my binoculars I saw a molecule of water 
Shattering its bonds - it released a molecule of oxygen
And donated 2 hydrogen molecules to make my ride NADPH2 
I also saw ADP shake hands with Phosphorous to form ATP

Now this my tiny human friend is called the Light reaction 
Though you humans prefer to call it Hill's reaction 
The two molecules ATP and NADPH2 fuel my tiny kitchens
These reactions need presence of the celestial ingredient - sunlight. 

Now look at that opening towards your far right 
Its the stoma. That's where I get my main ingredient from 
And what is that O talking tree , I said 
Well that's the molecule you expire - carbon dioxide CO2

The process I am showing you is the Dark reaction
And again you people refer it as the Calvin cycle
Hop onto the CO2 molecule and see it for yourself
So I did and waited to witness the proceedings 

Embraced by a group of molecules called Ribulose Biphosphate
With another molecule named as RUBISCO 
Gradually creating another one called Phosphoglyceraldehyde (PGAL)
Also my old chariot NADPH2 got reduced to NADP

As I saw from the PGAL I was hitchhiking on 
Another PGAL came and together they formed frucotse-diphosphate
There were some others who had a penchant need of phosphates
So it was given to them converting my ride into fructose 

Fructose did not seem to like its looks 
So it had a makeover and became glucose 
This my tiny friend is the food I eat 
And indirectly its also the food that you all eat 

Now let me get you back to your true size 
Viola! I was back to my human form 
Thank you for the wonderful tour I said
No problemo, Always ready to help , he said.

I realize you have been very hungry 
Let me give you one of my fruits 
A juicy mango fell on my head
Waking me up from my dream. 

Recently I was helping my sister learn her lesson on photosynthesis - the process in which plants prepare food. It is one of the wonderful processes of life that converts solar energy into chemical energy and also releases oxygen to the environment.  So here is my post for the delicious poetics prompt Poetics– Foodloose

Friday, 5 October 2012

Vanishing Words

 I always wonder where do these words come from, where do they rise and where do they set?  Sometimes shining like the bright full moon. Sometimes like the shimmering crescent. Yet many a times like the moonless empty sky, deserting poets and writers as the rains do to the parched earth.

Words, where have thee gone ?
Leaving thy writer forlorn

These are the moments I am lost in wishful thinking, longing and awaiting the resurgence of words. Like an explorer lost in search of his own hidden treasure.
These are the moments raining with anxiety, emptiness and silence. Thoughts begin to scream at full volume but the pen seems to have lost all its ink and I do nothing but hopefully blink, trying to verse-fully think.

No rhythm , no rhyme
I loathe that terrible time
More so often then not
I am entangled in this knot

Sunday, 30 September 2012

For DB

I see her every morning 
      In the crowded city bus
Always sits at the window seat 
      Holding her black shining purse 

Rarely she misses her daily stop,
    Only on days when she falls asleep
On many days she is found,
    Reflecting on thoughts too deep 

She always keeps the window open
     For the breeze to caress her pretty face
And for the rhythm of  the breeze
     To make her hair flutter like a silken lace

Never have I spoken to her 
     Hence I know not her name 
But to be lost in her rapturing smile
     Every single moment I am game 

Some mornings she is found 
      Blushing at her mobile's latest text
 On some others she is lost
        With her Rubik's cube she is vexed

Last week she had her friends for company
     To find her name, I eavesdropped
But all I could hear was her nickname - D.B.
     For she vanished, as the bus stopped.

Written for Poetics : 6 Billion Others.. at the dVersePoetsPub hosted by Brian Miller

Friday, 28 September 2012

Emily's Entourage

’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much joy!
A PRECIOUS, mouldering pleasure ’t is
MUCH madness is divinest sense
And sings the tune without the words

IF recollecting were forgetting,
WE never know how high we are
I wonder if when years have piled—
THE brain is wider than the sky,

All the above lines are verses from the poems of  Emily Dickinson. I recently started reading her poems as a part of my online course at Coursera on Modern Poetry and I must say I have got quite addicted to them. They seem so simple yet convey such deeper meanings. 

Sunday, 16 September 2012

First Poem

Poems, never thought I would write any
Though I had read and memorized  many 
Then on a fine afternoon in my classroom shade
In the English lecture of my twelfth grade
I was forced to write one of my own 
Fidgeting my brand new pen, up and down 
I wandered along my mind's cloud
Penning down my thoughts aloud
Taking inspiration from the Daffodils
That gathered over the vales and hills
I resonated a repetitive rhetorical refrain
Of a question that meandered my mind's lane
Framing up tiny couplets that would rhyme
Adding melodies to my mind's muted mime
I read through my first poem once it was done
Realizing that poetry is SO much fun

Written for Poetics : First Times at the dVersePoetsPub hosted by Fred Rutherford  

Friday, 31 August 2012

Pleasant Presence

O mind of mine, why do you lurk in the past ?
When you ought to live in the present 
And build magnificent dreams for the future

I do see dreams, paving way to the future 
Yet they are all prejudiced by the past
Confounding my existence in the present 

O silly mind, life happens in the present
Only in its garden bloom flowers of future 
Not in the pleasured placebos of the past 

But in the pleasant presence of the present

Sunday, 12 August 2012

Forgotten Fantasies

Some exchanged
Some estranged
Some received
Some deceived
A set of messages
Delicately treasured
In the depths
Of digital memory

Each of the tiny words
Written on electronic scrolls
Tenaciously teleporting
His thoughts
To a dream
Which was a paradise
To a realm
Which never existed 

It was a toy store
Which always enticed him
Anchoring him firmly 
To the pitches of past
Decking a smile on his face
Whenever he navigated 
The rhapsodical rail
of sugar coated words

A stern voice from within
Always warned him
To get rid of these
But another one would
Always hush it to silence
Until this day
When they disappeared
Forever lost beyond retrieval

He knew not what to do;
To rejoice at the achievement
Of obliviating an obvious obsession?
Or to regret at the loss
Of the most precious possession?
He sat there in numb trance
Silently admiring the rarity
Of a beautiful sadness

Prompted by Poetics : The Beautiful Sadness at dVerse Poets Pub by Stuart McPherson  and Wordle-68 by Brenda.

Sunday, 29 July 2012

Et tu, Somnus!

Just when I need you the most
You vanish away like a ghost
I shout out your name in vain
For you have left me for my bane
My restless thoughts tremble
As a screaming silence ensembles

You never said you will be gone
Deserting me at the pits of Forlorn
Aren't you supposed to be my solace?
But instead you become my grimace
My head is beginning to pound
Yet there ain't any signs of you around

My eyes are burning for your sight
As I toggle myself from left to right
I can't stand this torment anymore
My patience has gone awfully sore
No strength left for more laments
I want you here this very moment

Without you my day would be all hazy
Nudging me to brink of being crazy
Tainting both my work and my play
I have no more words left to say
Come back you traitorous creep
I need you now O my dear sleep


Prompted by Poetic Bloomings Prompt 65 - Betrayed 

Sunday, 10 June 2012


A man who was very astute 
Never missed any chance to loot 
He did the same with Mr.Tardus 
Who got vexed and created a fuss
Before kicking him with a metal boot 

A gal who was very astute 
Always plunged at guys in suit 
A lot many to her words, fell prey 
But on one sad unlucky day 
A thief stole away all her life's loot 

Written for Limerick-Off Monday ~ Astute  by Madeleine Begun Kane

Friday, 1 June 2012

In Case I Do Not Return

Just in case
I do not return
From the long and winding road
I wish
No one has any concern
For I have been here
too long
I was mashed by travel's load
Just in case
I do not return

I might not have been
too strong
And became prey
to a hungry toad
I wish
No one has any concern
If I got caged
in a celestial song
For a large debt
I long owed
Just in case
I do not return

I may have just flew along
With the strong breeze that blowed
I wish
No one has any concern
If I wandered
to where I belong
When my soul's vehicle is towed
Just in case
I do not return
I wish
No one has any concern

Prompted by On Free Verse, Picasso, and Yachting at dVerse Poets Pub hosted by Samuel Peralta (which asks us to hide a structured poem in free verse. I chose to experiment with my first villanelle)
and also Carry On Tuesday #157 - The long and winding road ( the title and first line of one of The Beatles most memorable song)

Sunday, 20 May 2012

Life ~ The Greatest Code Ever Written

He had no knowledge
Of high level languages 
Like C , C++, Java or Python 
Nor did he know
The low level languages 
Of Machine codes and Assembly 
For they did not exist when he began
Yet he wrote the greatest program ever

He had no requirements to be gathered 
Nor he had to list down his specification
As there was no one else around 
Maybe his solitude was his motivation 
He planned his architecture with finesse
And designed it with precise perfection   
He had no process models to follow
With a big bang he began implementation.

The first module he made was Time
He wrote it to be a daemon 
Ceaselessly executing in background 
Creating the plethora of perceptions
Of past , present and future 
Listening to the tireless tunes of time 
He created numerous particles 
which indulged in an eternal cosmic dance.

As 'Time' proceeded he progressed 
He had no release dates to worry about 
So he functioned with his divine comforts
Making sure he produces a masterpiece
The particles he made learned to innovate
To work with each other and collaborate
Expanding in size, complexity and beauty
Deploying what we now know as the Universe.

An aesthetic user experience was created
Of drifting galaxies sequined with twinkling stars
To hold these large modules together
He created a gluing driver called Gravity
Thanks to gravity smaller modules called Planets
Attached themselves to the twinkling stars
Each star executing an almost infinite loop
Of  fusing variable matter into constant energy.

Employing a randomization technique
To choose one of the billion stars
To test his new module, code-named  'Life'
Initializing the recipe for the primordial soup
In the boisterous boiling broth blossomed
An inflorescence of magical polymers
On this chain of special molecules
He checked-in the pivotal part of his code.

In the quaternary quartet of A,T,G,C
He compiled the first version of code
Executing this program with a single click
He watched the play from his abode 
From simple, singled celled microbes
To humans having brains with four lobes
Changes propagated steady and slow
Moulding to the rhythm of nature's flow

Prompted by Poetics : Tools Of The Trade at dVersePoetsPub.

Friday, 4 May 2012

Found In Pages

From dull reality I silently step aside
To please myself with a surreal ride 
Undressing the burden of prejudice
Diving aloft into the pool of bliss
Shattering all the shackles of space-time
Intoxicating words with thoughts to rhyme
Pages pouring out elixirs of  pleasure
Healing wisdom beyond any measure
Messages preserved by immortal greats 
Relishing minds with immaculate tastes
Kindling fantasies of self discovery
Triggering  journeys of recovery
A reflection deliciously transformed
A seeking shadow divinely reformed 

image by Manu Pombrol

"Clarian Sonnet  is composed of seven sequentially rhymed couplets – aa bb cc dd ee ff gg – in pentameter, or ten syllables per line."

I might have gone wrong with the syllable count as I was completely relying on for knowing the syllable count per line. 

Friday, 20 April 2012

Stoical Silence

Silence was the theme for the night
Violence of violins was the first delight
Hurt harps joined the terrible serenade
Blurting his thoughts like a grim grenade

Guitars began singing tunes of guilt
Sitars sounding his lost hope's wilt
Dreaded drums echoing sad dreams
Shredded santoors sighing in screams

Tormented tablas of rhythmic beat
Torn apart in the grief of his defeat
Flutes flaunting faulty fanatic tunes
Mute memories buried in time's dunes

Pain painted by piano's performance
Slain smiles  severed in vile penance
Cruised confusions of past left forlorn
Bruised bugles blared their last tone.  

(This poem is not in Iambic pentameter, as I am yet to learn to adhere to the syllabic rules)
Prompted by FormForAll - Framed Couplets  by Beachanny at dVerserPoetsPub.

Friday, 6 April 2012

The Nest

Life is a wonderful, exciting fest
Where our worth is always put to test
Once the fest comes to an end
We replenish ourselves in our nest

Some rides in the fest are so tough
When situation seem to be rough
That's when we are tested the most
Brooding at times , I have had enough!

These are times when we wish to reach the end
But then we get a hope , a solace , a friend
Who helps you out of the maze
His help, his comforts always ready to lend

Yet in the same maze, he might get caught
When your helps is silently sought
To play your part , tear his problems apart
That's when precious memories are wrought

There are also times we need our solitude
To seek our minds's blissful beatitude
When we withdraw into ourselves
Though with a sense of utter gratitude

We will fall down, we will fly high 
Sometimes with a smile , sometimes with a cry
Yet always finding the much needed peace
Resting our self in the nest built in the sky 

image: ParkeHarrison

Prompted by image at Magpie Tales and FormForAll: Rubaiyat Quatrains at  dVerse Poets Pub hosted by Samuel Peralta.

An attempt at writing at Rubaiyat Quatrain which is characterized with  the rhyme scheme AABA .

Sunday, 1 April 2012

Nefarious Nightmare

Staring the monitor without a blink
As I sip small gulps of my drink
I lose track of space and time
Trying hard to find words to rhyme

I close my strained, burning eyes
To imagine something to feel nice
My tired mind soon drifts into sleep
Then a dreaded dream begins to creep

I see myself working in the dream
When the fire alarm begins to scream
All around , I search to find no one
All precious possessions I shun , I run

Fire exit maps - all burnt and charred
My hopes of escape feel so jarred
Intuitively I run towards the staircase
As I trip over the fallen flower vase

I am hurt now - bleeding  in abundance
My bruises singing in all their cadence
Finally I stumble upon a hazy gaze
A way out of the inferno flavored maze

Finally out of fiery lair , I feel free
A sense of achievement and glee
But this joy was just momentary
Shredded by thunder's trajectory

My hurt right leg feels as its amputated
Away from lightnings, slowly I ambulated
A few yards apart, seeing clear serene space
With all my strength, I paced towards the place

There I found the man with the wrench
Trying hard, his teeth and fists clenched
Gloomily he said "Your world is tearing apart"
Hurling the wrench to pierce thorough my heart

He shouted "You are the only one to blame
For you started that world-ending flame.
So I punish you with your death"
Listening to this, I took my last breath

Image courtesy : Robert and Shana ParkeHarrison

Prompted by Poetics: Nightmare Verse at dVerse Poets Pub 
hosted by Stu McPherson

Friday, 9 March 2012

For My Light

I wait, at the end of the tunnel
For my light to guide me out 
To find myself in life's funnel 

I wait, at the end of the tunnel 
As thoughts seem void and null 
Shackled to the chains of doubt

I wait, at the end of the tunnel  
For my light to guide me out

Image Courtesy : Google Images

Thank you Sam for introducing to this wonderful form of poetry!

"A triolet has eight lines, with rhyme scheme ABaAabAB. The first, fourth and seventh lines are identical, and the second and final lines are also identical.This means that, once you've written the first couplet, you have five of the eight lines done. With only three more lines to go, you’re 63% done with the poem." 

Examples for this form can be found at Avolare and Valentine

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

I Being Me

This is a story about a man crossing a street
Who listens to the sound of river and his silent heart
And wonders how to disappear from society
This is the story of I Being Me

My mind told me stories never to be shared
When a broken star stares back at me
I open a blue box of feelings out of my dream
Only to realize that she lives in my head

I jot down all my reasons to write
With the fountain pen of my life
I write my life to travel far away from here
Very soon I will walk away from roads

Feeling alone behind this mask of vanity 
I am a cloud made of thoughtlessness
If i had wings like yours, I tell my pigeon 
I would fly beyond infinite stars and wait

On winter nights, I think of soup making
I live and die as the moon heels my heart
buried in sleep beneath dry leaves of sugarcane
I make miracles with my light

I Being Me


All italicized words are titles of the posts found at

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

Partial To Gin

A man who was partial to gin
Was clad in a suit from Pierre Cardin
Piously devoted to his drink
He ignored his lady's wink
The lady divorced him for this sin

A gal who was partial to gin
Saw an opportunity for a win
She offered him another glass
He gladly accepted it with class
Together they went for a spin

Image courtesy : Google Images

Posted for Limerick-Off Monday by Mad Kane

Saturday, 3 March 2012

Testing mp3 embeds

You Are My Sunshine by purplepoetry

I always saw people embedding their music/poetry recitals  from Soundcloud on wordpress blogs and was wondering if it could be done on 'easily' on blogspot. But as I did not have any music to be embedded, never tried it. Then I saw my friend @purplepoetry77 trying to embed an mp3. So tried embedding her poetry from soundcloud here.

How to embed a soundcloud recording on blogspot ?

1) Click 'share' on the soundcloud music, copy the embed code.

2) In blogspot,  click on 'Edit HTML' and paste the copied embed code 

The text highlighted is the copied embed code from soundcloud. 

3) Publish the blog post and you should be able to hear the music embedded! :)

Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Nostalgic Nirvana

Reflecting all around
Rods and cones of my eye
Images of you
Like the stars in the sky

Resonating all around
Cochlea and canals of my ear
Melodies of you
Playing each moment of the year

Gushing ceaselessly
In the tunnels of my nose
Fragrance of you 
As a garden full of rose

Flowing endlessly
In the rivulets of my nerves
Your single touch
Fueling my soul's verves

Carved all over
The museum of my mind
Memories of you
That you left behind

Painted everywhere
On the walls of my heart
Words of yours
Masterpiece of a divine art.

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Me in a TEA CAKE

Tug of war I play, between Thoughts and Temptations.
Existence and Evolution are my biggest Enigmas.
An Aimless Arrow, hitting bullseye once in a blue-moon.

Curious about the origin and causes for everything.
Amused by the myriad mysteries of the mind.
Key to my dreams was found in lost words.
Ecstasy is hidden in family, friends, food and poetry.

Preeti Shenoy's Tuesday Prompts

Prompt :
Write three sentences about yourself,  first sentence starting with T., second with  E and third with A (as it spells TEA). 
If you want to write more, write four more sentences but they have to start with C, A, K and E respectively. (CAKE)

Sunday, 5 February 2012

My Precious

From my dear sister , you came as a gift 
To my heart's ecstasy, an ultimate lift 

Bundled in a small carton box, you came
Moment captured in memory's hall of fame

They told me you were a candy bar
But to me you were a shining star 

With themes - lines, redberries and rings 
Doubling up as an FM radio which sings 

With  games ~ Minigolf and Quadrapop
You made me feel on entertainment's top 

Flashes, megapixels of camera - you had none 
Yet successful in capturing memories a ton 

Reading my unsent , drafted messages 
A silent consort , in my growing ages 

Alarms, helping me to rise and shine
Partnering  in every endeavor of mine 

Your little buttons ~ I used to fiddle
Whenever faced with reality's riddle 

With internet, you made my doubts clear
Your treasured presence is always dear

Flying with me, when I was happy
Helping me mend, when I felt crappy

Storing social bridges in your contacts
Being a sole witness to all of my acts 

'Smartphone' , I might be buying one
But you will forever be my precious one

Written for the Poetics prompt - Object at dVersePoetsPub by Mark Kerstetter.

Dedicated to my dear cell phone :) 

Posted at the OpenLinkNight Week 32 at dVersePoetsPub hosted by Tashtoo

Friday, 3 February 2012

Weather Wages a War

It was a bright Friday evening
Sun, the streetlight of Earth
Ready to move to his next shift
Nothing in this seemed strange
But everything was about to change

Streets swarming with people
Like aliens headed towards home planets
Like rivers running towards the oceans
To reach their nests and relish their weekend
But their dreams will meet a steep bend

And then began the thunderous trumpet
Heralding the arrival of the fleet
On dark, fluffy vessels named as
Nimbostratus and Cumulonimbus
They were here. Ready to ambush

The trumpets became louder and louder
Unaware earthlings running helter-skelter
Frantically in search of protective shelter
Some proactive ones donning shields and armours
Of colorful umbrellas and trendy trenchcoats


<<Yet to be completed>>
**My attempt at writing Martian poetry, still searching for some outlandish metaphors to complete it.