Introspections of Whimsical Fall…


sunshine dapples in volatile golds
rustling symphonies of autumn’s cobblestones,
like rain songs drizzled on muddy trails
by vagrant whimsy of tempest clouds,
or a painter indulging in experiments
with paints, aisle and brush strokes.

intrigue of sunbeams filters
through stoic temperament of evergreens,
etching chiaroscuros through sieving leafage,
while they remember the gossips
shared with neighboring deciduous foliage
in balmy longevities of summer days,
now denuded of gregarious moods,
standing silent in cerise sighs of dawn.

forlorn autumn moon is citrus sigh
lingering from spring’s breath,
perched over quietudes of skeletal apostles
like cranes meditating on rippling lakes,
while the mandarin sun emerges
in eructations of whimsical morns scented
in flavors of cinnamon rolls and apple tarts.

indulging in contemplations on fall’s days
aromatic in words withering from maple limbs
tinted in variegated pastels,
with unfurling saga of reiteration
rejuvenation and reincarnation scribing itself
in unvoiced scribbles of poetry,
life seeks to redefine conventions of existence.


Rule of Survival…


sitting on seashore
at twilight hour beneath
cornflower skies~
freckled in fleeting clouds,
I watched cavorting tides
form turrets of false hopes–
only to be shattered
into splattered brine-droplets.

sea gulls shrieked in
language unknown to my ears~
imitating fish wife’s noisy rancor,
and palm trees danced
to the cerulean threnody,
while a dying sun~
eagerly gobbled by
the vociferous sea-waves,
left the skies covered
in fuchsias and wisterias.

in this soothing panorama,
I sat with a storm hurling within
trying to bring tempestuous emotions
within stoic control,
but raging sentiments for once
refused to be subdued,
just then mercurial mood
of weather changed
and I saw the docile clouds gather
on once serene sky
like gathering fury inside me.

a frown was etched
on the brow of tranquility,
thunder raged and winds went insane
howling and squealing
like a banshee,
waves tandem went berserk
and sea gulls leaped for cover,
while on the geometric rock ashore
I found myself within
the eye of a storm,
I saw the sky smeared in kohl
the hues of crepuscule erased,
and watched as giant palms
bowed to raging winds.

sitting there
drenched to the bone
I watched as tide and trees both
succumbed to ventose rantings of
the garrulous storm,
I learnt another lesson
on the abacus of tutor nature
that it is better to be cowed
by the indefatigable,
than to fight against it,
this was the rule of survival…

A Day At the Cafe…



sitting sipping
caffeine laced warmth from
Styrofoam cups filled in
the machine’s trickled faceless brew,
my eyes rove, drinking in
the scenes unfolding in snippets
like a collage of live snapshots
from a medley of lives
meeting at another crossroad.

a girl in polka dots and freckles
her pigtails limp as her sagging spirits,
sits in a secluded corner,
quietly rifling through her thoughts–
seeking solitude in the crowd,
as her brow puckers in a frown
and listless eyes gaze at distant horizons
wherein perhaps replay
the haunting moments of lost past,
while her coffee loses steam
as it cools its heels and
the cheese omelette congeals into
an unappetizing mass,
yet she sits forlorn and forgotten
unaware of the creeping minutes.

they sit together
their smiles both eager and hesitant
holding hand stealthily under the table,
their gazes longing-filled and dreamy,
talking in whispers, oblivious to
hustle and noise as they share
another stolen moment of togetherness,
too absentminded to bother
about tasteless lukewarm coffee,
or stale muffins,
mundane realities lost in
the tattoo of heart beats tripping
over themselves to be heard
over the furor of voices.

wafting aroma from the pantry
is a blend of smells sweet and piquant,
sighs of fresh pancakes mixed
with scent of brewing tea,
and the fragrance of
pastries and cookies emerging
from the ancient hot oven,
breath of spices and butter
tickles starved nostrils of appetite,
from simmering gravies and broths,
and expectant faces crowd the counter
to place orders with smacked lips,
while the stomach growls
in anticipation of delights to come.

carelessly tossed menus are forgotten
as favorites are hastily parroted
by hordes of youngsters to a hassled waiter
and the token queue snakes down
the over crowded counter in
a room now filled with
laughter, voices and cigarette smoke,
the tablecloth is stained in
dribbled gravy and spilled coffee,
blotches of ketchup and molten butter
while morsels are hurriedly gobbled
by those preoccupied with
unfolding events the beckoning day.

hollered greeting, ringing mobile phones,
impatient, terse exchanges of another busy morn,
merge with the banter and laughter
of those with moments of respite
in their hip pockets,
a misplaced order, a wrongly served dish
are nightmares of the manager
come alive yet again,
customers placated, tempers calmed
tax the tact of harassed waiters,
spilled cup of coffee ensues a fist fight
for a pristine shirt ruined
and a free breakfast
barely manages to sooth frayed nerves.

the college youth in jeans and hipsters,
old gentlemen in tweeds
with an umbrella or a jaunty stick,
spinsters in pince-nez and floral dresses,
girls giggling together in shorts
unaware of leery eyed executives
in business suits and neck ties,
together crowd the tables
adorned in pink with
whites roses winking in wooden vases
newspapers are read, files rifled through,
homeworks copied and lessons mugged,
gossips swapped in stage whispers
and jokes aired butted on old cronies.

it is just another morning
that slowly rolls in the neighboring cafe
and oft leaving the monotony
of my silent predictable mornings at home
I am drawn to this bustling warehouse of humanity
where I watch varied shades of life
together coalesce like the hues of dawn,
it is a graffiti of tastes, smells, lives
that adds some flavor to
the life of insipid, lonely existence–
a window through which
I watch the drama of life enact itself…


Versatile Ruminations About Self


I am the insomnia of cavorting waves
splashing against the dozing shorelines, 
their indifference seen in
gaping yawns of serrated jaws,
while the moon has a lonely chardonnay,
amongst disapproving teetotaler stars,
sipping bitter espresso till ughten.

I am the fractured lyrics of autumn,
echoing from parched leafage 
in mottled, distorted verbiage,
their rhythm hollow like distant dreams,
of a spring long withered,
while within opaque woods of evergreens
shadows prance to
quixotic melodies of foliage,
on the stage of elusive chiaroscuros.

I am the amnesia of snowflakes,
that powder mountain cracks in soothing talc,
shimmering like gold dust 
in rare smiles of winter sunshine,
but trickle down the curves of summer
as a memory trailing down 
striations of whimsical reverie,
to lose itself in obscurity of subconscious.

I am the orchid of exotic scents,
scattering verses onto blank sheets of fancy,
with the quill of spring breeze,
bathed in sunbeams, peppered in dew,
like hope braided into life’s sinews,
I twirl my perfumed realms into poetry
to garland life interpretations.

Drenched in rain’s serenades,
and wrapped in wafting scents of humid soil,
I am a vignette rainbow
resplendent in versatility of thought,
reflected on window panes and puddles alike,
my revelations like psalms
chanted to nature in devotion,
as I blend in the pulsations of rivers.