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Sunday, April 29, 2012


Just Perfect!

We pled love,
he called me a witch,
I tickled his fancy,
I danced to his dandy,
we stayed in a clinch.

In gurgling streams,
a perfect garden,
a troth was made
never to fade
he called me a witch
that stole his thunder!

In flowered dreams,
the years rolled by,
the endearments took a hue,
from the many frets,
when natured served us hets
as lessons of love
his eyes took a shine,
to varied shapes askew,
that taunted our troth.
if only I was truly a witch!
 I would weld his wanderings!


In a room full of laughter
my soul is quiet

In a cold dank cell
the heat of my longing
keeps me sweating

The starry skies
the soft call of doves
brings me close to tears

Butterflies flit the air
buttercups in your hair
I should be laughing

The thump of your heart
as you sit by the hearth
and the embers glow golden

How lonely the stars feel
how desperately I miss you
how long I sat in the dark
your hand to touch in the dark
one soul to beat as mine
If really you could
Just imagine.

Just one Look

Across the room
there was no name;
to the emotion;
the air was thin;
my breadth was strained,
my knees became jellies,
took an eternity,
to complete my breadth,
that was lodged between my breast.

He walked away,
as I turned away,
from the darkened door
to my bright happiness

Never saw him again;
each morning though;
I remember with pain;
the sun that went away at dawn.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Ephesus: When Love Dies

Ephesus: When Love Dies

Saturday, April 21, 2012

When Love Dies

I have been wondering for a long while. Gratitude is such an easy thing to express ..if you offer a handshake. But I would like to say thank you to those who have deigned to share some of their time with me on this page. Those who from the earliest days, followed this blog. Some of them I have gotten to know more. Some of them have remained like jewels in the garden of my gratitude and appreciation. One such jewel is Nomar. I have read his blog, his poems and felt the sensitivity of a great loving soul. So I asked him to write an article as I guest blogger,so he sent me this poem below. If you are one of my distinguished follower, I would be honoured if you send me an article, a pice, your comments. I just want to say thank you and get to know you more. Nomar, you are rather very special and I will always put you in the sunniest room in my heart so you are touched by the radiance of my gratitude and best wishes. Please enjoy this:

When Love Dies 
By Nomar Knight

When love dies 
Emotions overwhelm
It's tricky and annoying
Because you're not at the helm

When love dies
Your partner irritates you
Little things that used to pass
Make you cringe and blue

When love dies
You're not happy anymore
Nothing exciting to anticipate
Nothing wondrous to explore

When love dies
You only focus on you
What you need and want
There's just one not two

When love dies
The quest for something more
Opens a hunger for the hunt
Making the familiar a bore

When love dies
Deserve better you say
Until you're fickle in the heart
Betrayal becomes the way

When love dies
There's no together time
Rather be with someone else
Drop your partner on a dime

When love dies
Respect takes a walk
Arguments drain energy
Shouts replace talk

When love dies
Impotent intimacy breeds hate
No public displays of affection
The two no longer relate
When love dies
Don't care about the spies
Get tired of the lies
When love dies 

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Bury me in a Prado Jeep


He was only seventeen
He wanted a Prado jeep
to contest with his peers
from the other side of the street.

To the darkness bound; he went
and he whimpered his greed
that they may offer a path
to strengthen his greed

He stole a twin
and brought entwined
to his soul
a journey of fate
that will snare his faith
In the loom of life

The strangled cry of the twin;
the agonized torture of a mother
the fearful haunting
the beheaded grimace of innocence
as silent witness
tore his sleep to pieces

The Baba’s bloody hands
could not silence his sleep
the twin’s cries of despair
from murdered innocence
and maternal agony
by seconds brought him
back to the field of blood
where he had sold his soul
to purchase a Prado jeep

Now at his guilty leisure
to the stern looks of justice
he revises his need
to obtain without sweat
the judge’s cold verdict
came like cold relief
from the terror of his dreams
from the tiny watching eyes
he had buried four feet upright by the stream

That which can only be earned
by honest day’s sweat
as the hammer fell on his life
and the black robed justice wrote
a whispered longing escaped
his parched cracked lips
one more last request
bury me in a Prado jeep!

They buried him in a Prado grave
six feet standing upright
next to the tiny staring eyes
by the stream
of his warped dreams!