All posts by ippljournal

Denial Crippling assortment Lucid words cloud Prisms of versed contradiction Wobbled into poetic impotence Looked around Scarce dollops of insanity Creeps of webbed catastrophe Deformed slings strip in shame That lost hunch Intuitive notion woken insights Silent screams hammer in delight Tired breath and its cursed culpability Through your answered denials My arrogant faith slogs…

Childish Rant  Such a petite life so much to do haven’t I done everything? I asked God blissful light came upon me he said nothing healing was accomplished but I felt so lost. Dazzling light surrounded me there were angels of God dancing around me to the beats of melodious tunes consoling me, it’s okay…

Departure She has always done it… Always… Tired, she sleeps today in the arms of the Nature Tired… Tired to swim against the current anymore, Tired to fight for her ‘rights’ anymore, Tired to laugh And Even tired to cry Too tired even to sit up and take notice! As if she has accepted now…

Capturing the Moments I am a poet, a dream catcher too. I don’t have coloured feathers, but I have a dancing shoe. Every lovely waking moment is a dream for me. Whether I am home or near the cerulean sea. I try to capture every moment of glee. Every blooming flower with a hovering bee.…

The Opium Dream In the half light of half hope Light flickered on my benumbed senses Credibility surfaced and died down. Through that long corridor Reason approached but walked away As my mind was long distanced from me. Life’s battlefield drown reason when Words elbow each other out Galloping like horses in a swoon. They…

A sense of ‘Ah!’ A santoor string strums, a melody follows Profound and lively East and west moves hand in glove Jazz wraps itself around springing pahari tunes Creates a perfect jugalbandi The tabla, the drums livid in each presence Music wafts into my ear Cycling full tilt through the kacchi gullies of anonymous places…

The Chimney The chimney once was a fountainhead of smoky rush; and freshly baked scent wished bon appetit to all who inhaled; the breathing chimney stamped a guaranteed two square meals and a roof above to those destined forever beneath the line. The phallic pillar upright against the sky proclaimed it’s right of the patriarch,…

On My Dinner Plate If I could refrigerate my happiness into containers then, I would place it in my deepest lake, in my microwave to warm it, to place on my dinner plate to smell, to taste- how it feels to be happy on a daily basis.

Proximity If you do not sit with it, you will not know. Until you finally go to bed, You will not know how much your shoulders bore; hurt. If you do not close your eyes, You will not know, How the tears have been waiting to push through your lashes. If you do not take…

Grandfather’s Chair My grandfather’s senile chair bends my memory into a tensile splinter of time. Once, it bore the weight of my grandpa’s prostration. Yet, stood resolved, offering a soothing recline to grandpa. Sometimes, overburdened, it stooped, and screeched – reticent yet resilient, stoic just like my grandpa. His old hands would rest on his…