She wore feathers in her hair
The fairest plume, the trendiest air
She walked amidst the cheering crowd
Her head held high, her stride so proud
Beneath the glitter and glamor, hidden
Colors, bleak and gray, like the rain
Filling her heart, choking her voice
Her wings clipped, she had no choice!
I returned from a holiday in the mountains. So here’s an inspired #poem for @TopTweetTuesday.
In intoxicated slumber
An upturned firmament
Rains luminous starlight;
I burst in fluorescent flames
Like a million fiery fireflies
With minuscule fluttering lives!
Let’s go back to the caves
Bury our screams in silence
Discard our deadly weapons
In the deepest darkness
For they fill us with bravado
So false, instill us with prowess
So misguided, that our world
Slowly crumbles around us
Just stones, as cold as our hearts
Drowned in brown
I am wading through
Frothy waves,
It’s a bit much
This aroma of coffee
At the corner cafe;
Faint guitar strings
Click of Scrabble tiles
Or keys on a laptop
Clatter, chatter
A little laughter
Just another evening
As the sun dissolves
Into another cup
Staining the bottom
With a rust orb –
The circle of life!
Two decades back when coffee cafes started blooming in Indian cities, this was a common sight in the evenings with young people, mostly IT employees, converging at the cafes. It was part of being hep. It could be overwhelming for the loners, yet alluring. Coffee cafes are nostalgic. It signaled the coming of age, of a new, aspiring India that could stay awake all night with evening coffee in the veins.
I’ve got something in my pocket
Tiny glass orbs
Colors of the kaleidoscope
Crinkly toffee wrappers
A dried leaf
A crumpled petal
A rock so smooth
A broken pencil
A wish that the sun stays
On the horizon, for a bit more
So that childhood can play
Just a tad longer
Blue Pen Strokes 