Category Archives: Poem

Whose kite is the sun?

Whose kite is the sun? Who fills the rosebud’s red? Who drinks from the moon-jug and spills out the ocean? Who led my hands unchained, to join the white-winged free bird, laughing from above at the prison in the playground? … Continue reading

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Ocean of Light

  Never could I have dreamt of the Beauty of floating in an Ocean of Light enveloping gently all that I am But where it starts or ends is not skin or centre of sight which lends itself to the … Continue reading

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A taste in the mouth

O unknowable land of familiar stories, your secrets concealed behind invisible masks for us to uncover. A teasing now and again, sparkles and glimpses that hide before they show. A taste in the mouth just enough to know there’s nowhere … Continue reading

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Invitation

By Sri Aurobindo With wind and the weather beating round me Up to the hill and the moorland I go. Who will come with me? Who will climb with me? Wade through the brook and tramp through the snow? Not … Continue reading

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A sweet red kiss

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Notes of a silent flute

On the darkest night notes of a silent flute play fire-dance in my heart. The player sends his invisible breath to hold me hush within its palm. Following footsteps of its tunes I grow invisible too. One time I’m a … Continue reading

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Last give and take

One day a sick pauper undid the knots that tied his tattered coat together. Down fell the murk free came the stench from fresh red wounds that secretly loved their colour. He collected his dirt in a bowl and took … Continue reading

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I Am

I am neither here nor there, I am neither young nor old, I neither am, nor I am not, Or maybe I am both, I am here and there I am young and old. I am and I am not … Continue reading

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Words unveiled from your lips

inspired by the poem “Tick-Tocking clocks”  Words unveiled from your lips Echoed in the silence Of my mind I saw something of myself Remain in the quiet Left behind. I heard your thoughts Unravel Upon the screen Of my curiosity. … Continue reading

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Defected substance

One end of my paintbrush is dipped in permanent golden. The other changing colour at every touch, electric. One end burns in blinding light. The other scribbling furiously black stories multi-coloured. From multicolour oozes multicolour building strong-looking prison gates one … Continue reading

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