PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

canopy

light dances

with leaves



all over, a poetry slam

among the flowers, wind,

mountains, sea, field, you, me

if we care to loosen ourselves

to join in the fray



art and music

the river sings sweet verses

as the water paints

this wondrous scarlet sky

over and over



year

of the monkey...

expecting this naughty thing



the sun, so much

life it gives me

the moon outside window

sheds new thought on me

the bagavad gita verses come to life



bagavad gita is the "bible" of the hindus.

need to read this to understand my tanka.



school exchange

even the way

they talk is different



sweating at the check-in

this next woman tells hubby:

"Let me wipe it for you."



soften footsteps

mother tells us

a new child greeted with

all the vip treatments

we even laugh as it cries



the break

in my daily to do list

all the other tasks

i do with my heart

angled on that unspecified hour



howling winter winds

the willow trees' leaves

point opposite way

while a lonesome man

asks for direction





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winter rain

the calm metropolis

from the first subway train



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fading light

the couple start

for their secret haunt



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sickle moon

at the river corner

cutting weeds



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warm embrace

between her and me

her week-old son



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tired eyes

flipping the pages

for the dancing numbers



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if only the

sea can be calm

this troubled world



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winter wind --

rivalling

the freshness of my mind



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unrequited love

i walk over the

fields and spots

the tears i still

keep to myself



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empty church, just

pews and a solitary me

praying and joining god

in savouring the whispers

of my own prayers



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in minutes the night

sky was a grey blanket

the moon and stars rubbed out

this sad page of my life

i wish god to turn over for me



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bright red roses

pinkish lilies

fascinating floral colours

i think about mom's kimono

the one that too got my heart afflutter



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silent night

all spoilt by the silent night

carolling



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after the storm

a headless snowman

still standing



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grasses bend

to the wind, rustling

i remember mom's graceful hands

as the leaves bend to

the shape of a basket



childhood lesson -

adult ants in a line

showed me what hierarchy

and getting organised

are all about



turtle; "we're

slow that's because

we never need run for cover." (SENRYU)



the widow's death

in place of her piano music

i miss is the furin

that rings frantically

now and then like it misses her



eden's apple

yes, buddha was right

desire is the cause

of sufferings

eve and adam hopelessly created with it



starry expanse

i savour the buddhist's thought

that i existed since time began

that all these stars

have all along been companions



red stone

the roadside peddlar

says it's a rugby



roadside hindu shrine

below the deities

a pregnant dog rests



fortune telling

photostating my palm lines

to send to India



christmas eve

auntie's excitement

for the church service



late dad -

all i wish santa

to bring me this year