Thursday, 16 June 2011



Flinching from cultural insult
a defiance that refuses to wilt 
bent on survival
on disproving
the worlds definition of us
bent on preserving
the right to dream
the garb is not what it seems

 its not a revolution
its not a slap
a scoff 

a standoff
to forceful ethnic cleansing
its about boring things
it makes for bad trp ratings
its just a mindset
an avowal
of being
bent on survival

sonny ~[ all rights reserved for the photo ]

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

and so....i write to thee ~

 There when forgotten and gone when remembered
two super nova's that keep eluding each other
the trajectory all preset
from a solitary quiet
to an enduring quiet
lose focus, hold tight
and the essence is lost
close your hand and watch the sand slip away
a union as certain as night receding into day
most together when unaware of the togetherness
like well worn coats that keep away the chill
wear each other
why tether
some needs are like a peregrines call
insecurities never get translated into trust
throw the dread face down into the ground
bite the dust
a softening that opens into sun drenched awe
an awe that brings forth an all consuming passion
herein lies the cessation
of twoness
moving to the stillness beyond self
granting full range
from one end of the spectrum to another
a scale of tender giving and gentle receiving
i bloom
i grow
and i simply wanted you to know.............

* Submitted for my favorite "ONE SHOT WEDNESDAY " and the "WEEKLY PHOTO CHALLENGE ". [ The subject is----ONE ]

Wednesday, 20 April 2011

weekly photo challenge...

One of my greatest comforts in life is to be able to find genuine calm in the little  ordinary scenes around me and peer at them through my lens....
saw the challenge on fridge's page and felt like participating....


Taken at my kitchen back door....can't beat the play of light , incomparable eh ?


Tuesday, 19 April 2011


One more time with trepidation today
breathing in the smell of your shirt
i tried to find a way
to somehow lessen the hurt
 i have got to find a way to get you gone
you have been with me far too long
 i have got to find a way
to get rid of this gray
 journey back or forward
the answer eludes me now
those sharp points of resolution
need to figure out how
 to be able to see once again
the beauty of petals covered with drops of dew
the calmness that early mornings used to bring
the magic of a chilly evening in myriad  hues
 to believe once again
that my birds do bring hope
that a god does exist to help me cope
look again into my own heart and assert
that loving you completely was not a wasted effort

 to be able to one day
simply turn around
and not feel let down, 
by every memory
of each moment coated with early morning light
if only for me, both the place and time was right
to be able to smell your shirt
and not get engulfed with hurt



Tuesday, 12 April 2011


the time lag between two consecutive breaths
a moment infinite
stretched beyond limits
to unexplored dizzying heights
to try and capture its essence
ready for combat
on our side of the fence
tis but a wasted effort on your part
to own
put a stamp of possession
crushing out the magic before it starts
those weird slanted feelings
that are just so
standing under the shower
i scrub hard

 resist every effort, they just won't go 

those weird slanted feelings
that are just so
you run, try to hide
snuffing their existence
and yet, like unwanted weeds
they simply grow
that darling...i guess
is the tragedy of life
a churning cauldron of emotions
collected moments of strife
just take you by surprise
like a blast of chilly air
smack in the face, however wise
devoid of planning
or strategies involved
like summer reinforcements called
i can go on living

or without you
stretching my moments
dwell in this time lag
minus the blues......                                 


Sunday, 10 April 2011

poetry soaked in rum ~

Of newly washed linen that flutters on the line
of misty foggy moments that seem all mine
utter bliss of lazing in the winter sun
inexplicable sensuousness
as bumblebees drone and hum
decadent hours whiled away
 picking shapes from wispy clouds
who cares if the red of my toe paint seems loud
wafting aroma of cinnamon sticks
  a hint of cardamom and saffron
 my senses pick
how come Shakespeare never wrote a sonnet
of sinful mornings soaked in spicy rum
when just the fragrance of rosemary
is enough to inspire some
eying the jars of spices lined up on the shelf
i share a smile with myself
a morning summed up as poetry in itself


Wednesday, 6 April 2011

losing your only umbrella..........

How do you miss something 
that you never really had  
an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach 
no pain involved, hurts just as bad 
how do you go through the motions 
day in and day out 
a screaming silence,
nobody to hear you shout 

how do you get over the feeling of gentle sadness 
of pinning your hopes 
moments of madness 
on somebody undeserving 
its like your prince charming 
played a game 
promised to but never came

Tuesday, 5 April 2011



Burgundy tones of hair so thick
the subtle sure knowledge
i can have my pick
the flaring of my nostrils
the intensity of my gaze
non confirming
setting hearts ablaze
or acknowledging
your worst fears
wearing my need
like the backless black dress
showing my finger to those too scared
not daring to ever bare
hypocrisy at its peak
i'd rather digress
not waste time to chastise the weak
it will always be about me
me me and yet more of me
damn sure of those second looks
purging my heaving core
by hook or crook
unabashedly untamed
oh yes!
i know how to retreat
yet, lay my claim
burgundy tones of hair so thick
the piercing green intensity of my gaze
about time
it set your god dammed mind ablaze


# picture courtesy- THE SNAFU DANCE THEATRE

Monday, 4 April 2011

through the looking glass ~

Today i believe In my ability to see beyond the obvious closing my eyes to what is right in front of me. i believe in the thin line between over powering-in-your face giddiness and smoke screens. In signs from above in the pull push tug of war between karma and kismet IN retaining memories of each raw season spent alone I believe in the thin line between precious true words and synthetic noisy bauble in hearts with pure intentions and things with inevitable endings
to go beyond the thinking
to stop hiding
hiding behind a falsetto note
of a grin and a ya

i believe in giving up i believe in hoping he might see past I BELIEVE there is no innocence either way you're accountable .....In forgetting birthdays and refusing your bff and then feeling guilty. I believe in going home... in the power of coffee in my childhood swing and rain on your mothers porch

i believe in the embarrassed flush of reaching one impasse after another .I believe in dangling bare naked feet in a pond and wanting your picture taken.I believe in wondering whether this would be classified as being vain.I BELIEVE in the algebra of infinite justice


Sunday, 3 April 2011


Taken just a couple of days ago.......this photo barely fits jilli's challenge for her colour board .....One of those mornings when waking up early and sneaking out into the garden before anybody is up pays off gorgeously....


Friday, 25 March 2011

mundane stuff of ordinary kind .............

Footfalls echo somewhere
in the deep recesses of my being
it seems my memory has developed wings
back and forth, back and forth
tantalizing me with all sorts of things....


Some of the ordinary stuff
that's still with you......

a wet October morning
treasured letters few
fifteen moonlit nights


five wordless moments
a couple embraces tight
tinkling of my bangles
the salty smell of your ocean
washing that always got wet
a single white carnation

all evaporated now
like drops of dew....

This mundane stuff of ordinary kind

somehow i seem to have left behind
scattered around your heart
in unsuspecting places

thoughts of me will always crop up
in lingering traces....
Difficult to gather, for aught i can say
so unrecorded did it slip away...

Bottle it up if you can
and post it to me
treasured or gathering dust
of what use it is to thee?

Footfalls echo somewhere deep down
and fade...
down the road, which we did not take
in moments
when i least expect it
my feet  falter and slack
hoping in vain
to hear words
that call me back.......

*this is also an effort to share with you all...what i viewed from my lens this past week. The prompt is for

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

Of lunar madness, sultry nights and crinkly voices


Well, technically speaking its not really a moonlit night, since it isnt a full moon....and yet your magic is as grand and as subtle as ever . what it is about you that wreaks havoc on mundane hearts and minds ?
That something...that elusive quality i cannot put my finger on, that unsettles me so much ?
This combination of a night rendered even more thirsty and sultry after a hint of rain with the faint smell of wet soil and freshly washed linen..... 

You see......that is what i am supposed to be doing . Hanging clothes. I have always liked to dry the clothes out on the line at night , some weird notion of saving their colours from the glare of the sun . 
And here i sit.....crushing a shirt between my fingers , staring at the moon . I suppose it looks the same everywhere .
Even far far across the pacific.....or the other side of the globe , where a pair of blue eyes have forgotten to look up and stare at it.
Why does the sight of watching it getting enveloped by a black cloud render me mirroring a shy woman hiding her face in the warm expanse of a chest.....? 

See ?
It is this. This is what i am talking about . This mind boggling power you wield over us lesser mortals........just when we think, we have mastered it all and get back to doing what we ought to be hanging laundry or writing grocery lists......let down our guard and wham.......before we know, one look at the moon......the chemistry of a wordless night and strange buried yearnings and an ordinary soul transforms into a dreaming fool wishing on shooting stars and angels and listening to songs that remind them of crinkly voices ........

i suppose i ought to finish hanging the clothes...hmmm ?

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

the averted shot wednesday ~

Standing disconsolate 
as if
wrapped in a threadbare shawl
of contrived patience

parched with thirst
on an endless road
of transient fate

a mute testimony of the human rat race
this eye sore of urban decay
scurrying feet...
the averted face
screaming silently 
of the rot within 



Two for tuesday.....~

" a lifetime of ambiguity
some splashes of breathing spaces
and my world seems restored again..."



Thursday, 17 March 2011



I've felt the numerous unspoken dreams in those eyes
i've seen the yearning behind the confident facade
the pull of a kindred soul
solitary walks
is there a name for this
isnt it enough that i felt it
it is after all just a feeling
to be felt in your soul
like footsteps fading away
if every stirring was analysed
reason behind that warm rush of joy
on hearing that twinkling laugh
or a slow smile
a moment shared
isnt it enough that i felt it
like my secret box of memories
taken out now and then
as i sit all alone looking out of my window
and feel again
the pleasure of undefined moments
undefined bonding
undefined silence
that speaks a thousand words
its enough that i've felt it
some things in life
are simply to be felt
its enough


Tuesday, 15 March 2011

a quietness prevails ~

In the stillness that precedes a tempest
a quietness prevails
in the quiet of an afternoon spent alone
a pause sucked swiftly back inside
chasms deep and wide
the comfort of everyday familiar things
dreams rooted in hammocks and porches get wings
a world away
a navy sky grows weary of the blue


This is my first post for ONE SHOT WEDNESDAY I am indebted to Jilli and Brian for introducing me to this or i may very well never have known about it and missed reading interacting and more importantly for being able to peep inside the minds and hearts of so many amazing poets from around the world.

green.......focus 52 [march 13 to 19 ]

Hullo peeps....i saw this thingy on jilli's page and and a challenge, two fings sonny can't resist....

THE THEME this week is GREEN.....and i may very well do it all wrong and post more than required or less....but here goes my effort....

I have yet to find a backroad that does not beckon to be explored....and sometimes, when we do
life surprises us in the most amazing manner, with discoveries and hidden symphonies and leave us awash with memories that last beyond a lifetime ,as if cementing the fact , that all love stories are not epic novels, some are haunting short stories, but just as special.......



   Bridges of madison county ~


the glint of silver, caught beneath an imposing moon
as fireflies lurk and haunting junipers tiredly swoon

a struggling effort at dispelling those naked illusions
shedding the scab on prying echoes of dry reflections


The photograph was clicked one muddy morning from my balcony in the middle of nowhere , when i was getting bored, some six months ago. As i looked into the garden below [ which was flooded with rain water ] something made me bring my camera and its funny what the lens will see , never visible to the naked eye

clicked with my canon S3 IS .


Wednesday, 9 March 2011

cynicism beckons....reality bites

picture found on flickr

Hypocrisy these days, comes sheathed in beguiling laughter
push it under the microscope
remove that layer of false hope
do explanations really make everything hunky dory
time and again
time and again
the same monotonous dribble
obvious lies that bite and nibble
accentuating blissful acceptance
acceptance of one's own weaknesses
the inability to shrug fears
oh i couldn't bear
stupid notions cling
doubts permeating the very pores of the soul
like endless needles that sting
wearing hot pink wouldn't really solve the problem
or dying the hair sassy red
when that self worth seems long dead
why get sad
get fucking mad
stark raving mad
but for a change, direct it to self
for letting the rigor mortis set in
while the lava still flowed through the veins
to be so bloody obsessed with only your pain
letting the bitterness envelope you
wearing hot pink won't really help
while you still persist in clinging to your melancholy blue


Tuesday, 8 March 2011

capturing the afternoon sun.....the sonny way ~

Not so lonely anymore......
i think i finally have a tenant .

"How swiftly the strained honey
of afternoon light
flows into darkness

and the closed bud shrugs off
its special mystery
in order to break into blossom:

as if what exists, exists
so that it can be lost
and become precious"

lisel Mueller


of bumble bees and moments lone

she wonders if bumble bees feel lonely and mundane too
tired of monotony ,
 indulge in make believe games few
sit squat atop that bud ,
 exuding an air of nonchalance
that focused steely glance....
so easy to gloss over it all
amid the prettier flowers and colours of fall
standing at her door
she wonders a whole lot more
focused on mending that blazer and the favorite toy
why boys
or for that matter men ....are always allowed to be boys
she wonders
if the bumble bee imagines itself
 to be a high tech drone
like her wearing that fur hat
playing sultry siren in moments lone
so easy to gloss over it all
shift focus
so easy
to miss it all..........


Sunday, 6 March 2011

I bite me ~

Every day, to stretch my wings, i want to fly
i want to be on a permanent high
every day i want to dream some impossible dreams
of cozy fires, burnished woodsmoke, some dancing sunbeams
a fire within my belly, undisturbed and aching
a need so strong, defies all logic
to believe in the existence of magic
i want to be loved like i never have been
to shed all effort on my part and simply lean
for a change, to be given, more than i can give
forever till eternity or as long as i live
o to be cherished beyond imagination
adored, pampered, so much and so bad,
drenched and soaking in those countless sensations
every day to be touched and become part of a whole
rid of all insecurities, you surrender your soul
not just be a ray of sunshine , in your darkest hour
but a part of you, even when your ship's sailing at full mast
every morning , to be your first thought of the day
yearning to be with me in a thousand different ways
i want flowers, chocolates and precious notes tucked here and there
to be wooed nice and proper,
glowing with this secret knowledge, as people stop and stare........
oh yes i want it all
shifts the ball into your court
now its your call 

sonny[ all rights reserved .]