"This is great! Nothing surpasses this joy of being back in the land of your birth!" Rather loud were those thoughts of mine as I sat all alone atop the bamboo platform built a little distance away from the house, smoking the handmade 'biri' that Gunsei had given me while my thoughts drift back to... Continue Reading →

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When this cocoon of mine opens up, What, from it, will emerge? A caterpillar long dead within, Worth nought but earthly dirge? Or a butterfly, bright and free, Soaring skyward as it should be?   Transform, yes, O limbs and looks of mine! Form  anew, my whole being! In anticipation  of rupture, Grow upon me,... Continue Reading →

"Who still reads poetry?" I have always found myself wondering. The idea of 'words without music' touching people is indeed a criminal notion in this world where music reigns supreme. Even old poems by famous poets are narrated in Youtube videos against a backdrop of matching music. Country music, of which I am a lover,... Continue Reading →

A lamp's wick is all that I am, Flickering within this glass fragile; Will I burn till my other end Or will I die young, by the wind's wile? The Hand which placed me here did fill A container beneath me with fuel; And, albeit short, ever shorter, I must burn and light up where... Continue Reading →

There's an event in town today, A chance for me to be in the fray, To escape this tiresome monotony Of life in a lab with Mr.Botany. People to meet and greet And varied sights to treat These curious eyes of mine Awaits for me there in line. But, right here, I must stay And... Continue Reading →

Sunday

It went off all too smoothly. I walked up to her after church and met her face just as she turned around. She had been talking to an elderly woman and was visibly surprised at my abrupt approach. I, on the other hand, felt the inner me missed a heartbeat, screaming inside my head, “She’s... Continue Reading →

An Ode To A Muse Andrew Kai Hangsing You are white light Born of eyesight; Emerging through Life’s refracting prism As colourful hues of mesmerism. You are one being Albeit showing Your manifold facets and edges As you add more to your ages. You are a muse For a poet’s use For poetry is recreating... Continue Reading →

After The Rain

A week of continuous rain Comes to a halt again; The hailstorms end And the wind quits its rant While the brooding clouds End their brawling bouts As, to a smiling sun, they give way And the people pray for its continued stay. A week of continuous rain On a rampage with no rein Left... Continue Reading →

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