A tingle you itch to scratch A battle not likely to be won Pigeon droppings on the hat A bleeding sun on the horizon. Muddled thoughts, writer’s curse Tangled yarn a knitter’s bane Bodies swathed in naked clothes…
Category: Poetry
What is I?
What is I? Who is this place? Why is the answer Every breath is a lie. Loud sirens at night The threadbare shirt Fond memories hurt Real and fantasy fight. The steep mountains Oil spilled in the…
Tortured Minds
Tortured Minds When a grieving heart hides its pain and smiles The tortured mind wields a tranquil paint brush Tear-streaked colours drip on the marble tiles. The glossy facade of a crumbling block Hides the peeling wallpaper and chipped…
Brutal Grief
Grief is a thorn in my sobbing soul Blood is slowly seeping from the hole My heart is chopped up, once I was whole My body is devoid of its soul. The smell of spices wafting in the air The…
Inside Out
Inside Out Horses riding the jockeys, cars on people Imagination or real, is hard to tell. This weirdly crazy cat, who will bravely bell? The neck looks fine from the outside, or not. The thyroid gland wears an under-active tie…
The Black and White Poem
The Black and White Poem The pearly white sun dripped inky black paint My world was a pitch-dark theatre An epic cinematic disaster The deafening screams grew quietly faint Some viewers trailed in with muddy feet Soiling…
The Middle Child!
Middle children are always the quietest. They don’t begin that way, but Circumstances, make them so. The older ones hog all the limelight. The younger ones command all the love. The middle child is confused. Should she make…
A Poetic Story.
When I wrote this story, I felt it needed something more. The characters and dialogues were nice but I wanted more than nice, I wanted extraordinary! Wanted my story to sing at the top of its voice and express the…
I Walk With Invisible People
I walk with invisible people While out walking in the park I see All those who have passed by me The spirit world envelopes me All my departed loved ones I see I follow my…
Bruised Psyche
Occasionally I am all alone And I kind of prefer it that way I don’t have to pretend to be nice I can be as nasty as I may. When I desire some company, I hold conversations with…