A Pocketful of Thoughts ( Vignettes)

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(i)
sorrows are dewdrops
licked away like treacle droplets
by tongues of sunlit volatilities,
~ as laughter sweeps away
cobwebby realities of gloom.

(ii)
moon weeps honeydew silences
on nights strewn
in whispered ambiguities,
while stardusted constellations
echo with versatile gossips,
as insomnia indulges in
moonlit rendezvous,
gulping on cafe noir darkness
to discover mysteries
hidden in obscure silhouettes.

(iii)
wind-chimes tinkle
under invisible touch of breeze
on shivering january morns,
punctuating snowflakes’ sonnets
in fluid musicalities,
that jar trance of frosts
frozen on window-pane clarities.

(iv)
venting pent up emotions
azure skies drench life in rain-songs
curdling complacence
of stoic potholes with syllables
garbled like reverberations
from a broken string of pearls.

(v)
dancing in falling rain
peacock fans brocaded expectations,
spun of versicolor silk
~a blend of thoughts from
verdant earth and blue heavens,
uaware of the rose’s plight
as fingers of heartless tempest
pluck away its scented petals
to scatter on the grass
like tattered, withered hopes.

If Love Could Paint the Sky

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if love finger-painted
her versatilities on the azure canvas
bland familiarities of noon sky would be colored
in its spectral moods,
twilights and dawns not just transient graffitis
expressed on skies’ complacence.

rainbows would laugh in abstract shapes
on cornflower heavens,
revealing myriad sentiments braided in love,
like lyrics of a romantic strain
splattered in variegated fonts on sky.

tempests would smear skies
with their unpredictabilities more often,
cafe noir of love’s angst being spilled in greys
on the cobblestones of stars.

while sunshine wooing
shadows with gold-dusted promises,
would be the reflection
of the flush of first love and desire,
as love indulged in painting exploits.

A Memory Relived

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pigeons on sidewalks

pink-eyed naivete roving
over cobblestone indifferences,
echoing with autumn’s mandarin sighs
or finger-painted in whimsical umbras
and joining with pothole lyrics
in tempest’s serenades
seek grains of sustenance,
on barren concrete.

she walks over to
onyx creatures brocading
brooding afternoons in flutters,
to fill her emptiness
with ambiguous mutterings
reverberating amid
preoccupied skyscrapers.

she shares warmth
and her unvoiced contemplations,
those memories of a backyard
where pigeons had composed
aubades for dawns
miming sakura’s laughter,
and sung lullabies to sun
retreating at twilight~

revived as pigeons grumble
at crowds without sympathy and leisure
to share a few grains and words.

Honeydew Winters

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honeydew winters
herald in lukewarm filigree dawns
and days like firefly winks
brocaded on frozen lakes’ sighs,
while elastic nights
gape as chasms of insomnia~

under a preoccupied moon
drunk on liquor to ward off chill
as cuddled affections
within blanketed privacies
warm relationships
in shared treacle kisses.

brewed cappuccinos
are chilled by frosty whispers
of a wet fingered winter fog,
their passionate heat
a lukewarm leftover like the kiss
of amber embers dozing in
mute fireplaces at midnight.

flavors of citrus delights
spawned by winter’s fertilities,
are tasted in crisp dawns
adorning in sakura blushes,
onyx nights are like hot chocolate
coating tongues of insomnia,
in luscious dreams
under warmth of mink blankets.

Snow-Kissed Firs in Winter

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grayish-azure, overcast skies
finger-paint verdure needles of fir
in argent desires and introspections,
smearing their shivering realms
in volatile warmth of memories
of a lost summer dream,
which shimmered like a sequined veil
on the rippling bosom of mute bays
in the blazing sunshine,
and etched transience in form
of chiaroscuros at their feet.

wisps of cotton wool sighs,
drape the silent contours of winter
in frosted, moonlit anticipation,
fir trees eagerly await
festivities scented in myrtle syllables
lit in soft glow of rainbow lamps
and flavored in baking sumptuousness,
where glitter-paper wrapped gifts
are piled under its frozen thoughts.

the winter sun sprinkles
treacle on fir’s frostbitten boughs,
like a baker sugaring bronzed delights
in saccharine sentiments,
the wind sighs chilled sonnets
on window cheeks,
scribbled in gold-dusted alphabets
by wizened fingers of aged westerlies,
to be read by myopic sun
too preoccupied in munching
on snowflakes popsicles.

Rain-Song Lyrics

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tempest croons songs
in fluid syllables from azure,
as piano key clouds
adorn their bland lyrics
in symphonic notes,
and drenched sheepish leafage
joins in the echoing chorus.

grinning flowers
with faces peppered in raindrops
hum in fragrant whispers,
their soft voice adding consonants
to the vowels of petrichor,
while invisible fingers of rain
pluck petals from wet coronas.

peacocks spread
their dreams tapestried in silk
under whimsical strains of rain
etching potholes in musical rhapsodies,
and pattering on jigsaw cobblestones
to scribe their imageries
on dried flutters of tangerine fall.

raindrops splattered on
transparencies of window-panes
gather the stingy gold sprinkled
as photon-dust by Midas tempest sun,
to adorn in rainbow idiosyncrasies
and liquid fantasies,
while a grey tinted cerulean canvas
is painted in transience
of shimmering spectral imaginations.

the raindrops sing
about the colors splattered
by versatile moods of fading twilight
and the cherry blossom
speculations of blossoming aurora,
of foliage conversations
moulded into poetry by tempest,
and roof tiles harshness
tempered into melodies by rain.

Vignettes on Amnesic Memories

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(i)
drinking sweet sips
after munched gooseberries
were swallowed by a tongue
addicted to raw and tangy desires,
while dew-kissed feet of childhood
pranced on velvety greens,
and childish fingers
gathered green sour sighs
peppered on grassy indifferences,
beneath benevolent boughs.

(ii)
arbitrarily scattered
wildflowers with fireflies aglow
seemingly in their pink, nectarine wombs,
were like fractured fragments
of a dialogue lost in ambiguities,
fringing drains and puddles
to effortlessly smear
tempest-tainted days in laughter~
they were picked in idle whimsy
to momentarily scent
innards of porcelain vases
too sophisticated to bask in
faint redolence of the commonplace
spawns of rustic weeds.

(iii)
memories were treasured
within scrap books in weird collages
composed of wrappers
snapshots, newspaper cut-outs
and old greeting cards,
glued in togetherness to enhance
the fading realms of reverie~
a quirk of adolescence
which now lies on dusty shelves
to be rifled by fingers of nostalgia.

(iv)
drinking hot coffee
on somnolent nights of winter
frostbitten at the edges,
when taunting, unread volumes
lay glaring on the study table
and pleading for
caffeine-induced insomnia
tired eyes tried to learn
lessons soon forgotten
in mandarin sunshine of days
which dawned with sinister threat
of examination looming.

(v)
eyes caressed visions
which mannequins preened in
within lighted shop windows,
like a stardust strewn fairytale
~elusive yet alluring,
mute sighs of desires too lofty
to be touched by earthbound realms
peppered blandness of naivete,
and a silence pregnant
with anticipations from the morrow
yet to emerge from
its chrysalis of oblivion,
and every lavish indulgence of today
is a reflection of
those wasted, serile sighs.

Nostalgia (vignettes)

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(i)
she wore a tired smile
like singed marigold petals in june,
to camouflage the searing pain
which wizened her beyond
an anorexic youth yet unlived~
sighing soft whispers to placate
our anxieties with her complacence
and suddenly that flickering smile froze
on chapped lips now quiet,
her voice coffined in silence.

(ii)
life is an enigma, a mystery
strewn in laughter and tears,
such the lyrics flowed as rippling river
entrancing me with their depth
as they unraveled surreal meanings
of bittersweet existence,
unaltered by the drooled moments
by an hourglass bellybutton.

(iii)
a face scratched by mischief,
an impish grin worn with bravado
to defy angst of skinned knees and elbows,
a little girl with grit enough
to challenge boys twice her age
trying to prove something to herself,
but on stardusted nights
she peered into onyx realms of insomnia
trying to gather fragments
of once savored choco-chip cookie realities
now a distant, faded dream.

(iv)
the boundaries
between truth and falsehoods
are blurred by conceptual interpretations
she lost her most cherished dream
and sought satisfaction
in making empty threats to break
the sand castles built by others,
just to prove to kismet
she could beat it at its callous game
of cheating, swindling and destroying…

Winter Spawns Spring’s Dream

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chill of wind’s invisible fingers covers
dry skin in goose pimples,
shivers woven into frostbitten thoughts
in a winter indulging
in reverie like a wizened old man
rocking on vague armchair introspections.

myopic, frost-beaded windows
peer at barren moments of january,
snowflakes falling like
shattered, stained-glass fragments
of a frozen rainbow stolen
from august’s mixed feeling skies,
while the colorless gardens
await in anticipation of graffiti spring.

daffodils and snowdrops
hibernate beneath silences of soil,
waiting to blossom into perfumed whispers
heralding spring’s carnival,
with chilled feet and cold-numbed fingers
and a burgeoning hope fluttering
in anticipation within my womb
like butterflies’ wings~

which etches my cheeks in blushes
I await the arrival of spring
and the feeling of motherhood,
like a rain-filled conch shell
awaiting the birth of a pearl.

Yearning for Sepia Yesteryears…

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I yearn to return
and traipse along those straits
sepia and serpentine
strewn in chiaroscuros spun
on boughs of flamboyant mesua,
riddled in raindrops
blasphemed by muddy puddles
and echoing in muted whispers
of scarlet palash petals
peppering silent mornings,
where rainbow fantasies of youth
sequined my nights
and childhood slowly altered
to blossom into juvenile desires.

where the chartreuse muteness
of tea leaves pregnant
in piquant syllables of aroma,
is unruffled by garrulous dialogue
of golden sunrays~
chirping after being laved in dew
and blue hills that fringe
obscurities of distant horizons
in their curves and contours
dusted in dawn’s golds
argent moonlight dreams
and fingerprints of reverie
of a long lost childhood,
still stand reminiscencing about
a naivete long molted off.

those days were
a grey monotone emblazoned
on cloudy sighs of cerulean heights,
the garbled poetry of sparrows
mingling with verses muttered by doves
to change blue moods
of tempest’s monotonous songs,
my giggles as I threw
my umbrella to the winds’ whims
and danced in falling rain,
those broken lyrics scattered
by my idiosyncrasies in the shower
and that sigh of delight
as I munched on orange popsicles
still linger somewhere
in that place I lived.

those trees which shared
my first love confessions,
their complacence aiding my decisions
as I hesitated and dallied,
the wildflowers in pink
that I picked and filled in
vases of loneliness,
to make solitude fragrant,
the hursinghars whose redolence
composed the aubade
of cerise dawns in flagrant bloom,
are still there adding magic
to someone else’s adolescence
while in a sunburnt land
sighing in heat waves
I dream of mists and rainfall.