April 2024

If I could pluck yellow petals swaying casually on a field of Mars if I could tally Vincent’s stars record their names in coloured chalk on newly laid pavers beneath unshod feet would you hold this fragile me gently, your arms soft

Answer me!Where would you go?,when the very life you chase,Suddenly… betrayed you? On the roads you used to run on,now you can’t take a step.The hospital bed is your home now,The window; your eyes to the world. Can’t you see it yet?The

and as I took the blade to my foot,I never meant to make a cut deep enoughfor my blood to flow as freely as it did.And as I sat there for half an hour drenchingbits of cotton, all I could think about

Haiga is a traditional Japanese art form that combines haiku poetry with a complementary visual element, usually a simple painting or a sketch. The word “haiga” is derived from “hai” (haiku) and “ga” (painting or picture). In haiga, the aim is to

Twenty years down the lanecobwebs wrapped in my tonguered broken nails gnawing atthe sylvan table, the pressure cookerwhistles, the fading black ink of the recipe book spites at me, scratching the metaphors sealing my white lipswater bickering down the sink, flushing away

All the flashbacks have echoes, the running feet, the stampede untold, my veins bleeding with punch rush as I sit between your legs,The blonde streak and the green shirt, my pinks and your fences.You won’t be home in Spring, they think I

Flying I felt the Spring breezeSaw some lilies dancing roundWhile I touched the sky. On Growing Just like a saplingNeeds the sun, so do I needThe rain to grow high. Strength To smile is a costTo weep comes easily stillBut both make

On some nights, walking along thedeserted streets, grief chokes me likethunder that ravishes the sky.The lonely clouds gather aroundmy windowpane like a widowClad in white, sobbing rains into my heart.The moon is lost in the elegies of the night.In the eternal silence,

I refuse to be confined within the defined walls of identity.I don’t want these predetermined labels to define.The claustrophobia in my head space remains a massive threat.Always urging me towards the uncharted territories of freedom.Where authenticity thrives without the shackles of conformity.In

When I’m gone,The eternity I wanted with you won’t scare you anymore,The promises we made won’t confound you anymore,I’ll come back to you;Not to soothe you but-It’ll be for my eternity that I dreamt of with you;I’ll come back as the first

Let me fetch the courage to live,From the well on the outskirts of my city,Where the forest casts its long shadows,When the night spreads her soft velvet cloak Let me fetch the strength from its depthsTo not give up on myself right

I want to tell you,How much I have suffered.How much I have endured.Will YOU listen to me?I saw her drinking vials of tears every day,With blood dripping from her forehead,And bruises on her body.He ripped off her hair,Still, she didn’t utter a

It was a usual day,Morning brought the cuckoo callAnd your temple broke itself For a while, it made me thinkHow far you had walked for this thingHow many hours it took you to bring this homeTo you, to me, to usAnd then

I long for a home that never was– HiraethHere I am again with a glass shard in handWishing to walk on a painless pathAt the end of this torturous road lies a home. Right? Her voice in me saysHis shoe crushing your

Slid past the scarlet driveanchored on days sanewith a whimsical strain of melody sadharbouring the mind. Lovely sights of days wildgathered on follicles of growthentailing prophesyamidst seasons of hope. Majestic pride overweening:huddled the Self and Souldragging drudgery to the holereadily buried in

Renounce, renounce and renounce!All that makes me feellike a frantic caged bird,fluttering and shriekingfor escape —— from the morselsIt feeds upon,from its own filththat pollutes the cage,and from the gentle breezethat mockingly caresses its trapped wings!

I didn’t know what decade meantthe year I turned ten. The yearI turned ten, we moved housesand went from two rooms on anupper floor to three rooms onthe ground. I had only just learnedwhat one’s own house meant. Knowing this meant little.The

Today, in a meetingOne of my colleaguesWas euphemistic ofHer non-diplomacy; initiallyI was astounded, awestruck!With the flatteryBut it was no puffery.The expression came naturally.Not being euphemistic,The kudos was for a fighter,In a society whereWomen are harassedBy raping gazeAs a sex toy, andThe only

It is Always the Same Sunless Season HereBlack, overhanging clouds growl and smotherNot one piercing ray of lightThe silent river is desperate for a gleam,The lake beyond craves just a sparkle of lightA dance of sunbeams, just snatches stolen awayThe leafless trees

If I’m honest, I downplayed my beauty as generic asian features to try and dissipate some confused expressions at a spin-the-winebag-on-the-Hills-Hoist-party If I’m honest, I have goldfish lips and matching protruding eyes. I see men wave with zealous shouts of nihao and I always