A lost letter to my father

  image credits- pinterest Thunder, if that is one big word I want you to gulp it down. My walls speaks of you of a memory we shared over the sweet sunrise from the balcony Your percolating memories stir my throat to think of our blue wise words. I was always a pebble a sweet,

The Dance

Prompt- Dramatic Monologue You! The face of singular lotus come, let’s evolve someplace together with our final dance Take my hands interlock it with yours A strand of light A strand of gleam Your face a yarn of mother’s touch a cupboard full of old photo albums. Your body is a shell a shire of

Imaginations

For i see a tree behind a house made of clouds a slow whisper entrapped beneath the soil that never moves an inch a state of wellness only getting harrowed we live like a static voice losing the soft cotton-like warmth each day where the bells pause to chime. We come across rooms full of

My newsletter- Tiny Letter

Dear all, Thank you for always reading my work on WordPress. My love for you all will always be huge. Though it would mean a lot if you can subscribe to my tiny letter newsletter. I would be sharing some beautifully curated poetry of some great poets/ articles/ artworks and it shall also have insights

A gloomy promise

From Olive Skins

As you all know, I have started this lit magazine especially curated for abstract and surreal poetry which means a lot to me and so I urge you all to head over to this link and read this amazing poetry from a fellow poet. Please like, share and follow if you appreciate the work. https://oliveskins.com/2019/06/head-island-time-and-wave/

Olive Skins is live now

Thank you for such an overwhelming response for my new literary platform “Olive skins”. We have received some really great submissions and soon would be putting up on the site. Meanwhile, please visit the site, follow and check out the amazing poets we have for now. There is a lot more to come. Some real

Ignorance

What does this speak to you?my lament and a burning tonguea swamp so full of oiled waters I have an eye of the tigera frivolous running starand often I sink in the void of blank noon. They ask me how do I lookwhen I smile and giggle.a silk saree well pleated and insane maybe. I

A bevy of stained minds

Halt

A cold mouth of air, streaming down the rivers up till my painted toes. I see a circled pair romancing behind the surface of the sky. A cold distilled breaths. Pure. Fixating, like a rubber band. Far away from this orange sunset. I hear umbrellas holding a hand of a detached one. They support and