Category: poetry

who would have known that we’ll be here? sun has risen but we’re not warm stars shine but we’re blind and the tress rustle with the wind.   I waited for you on a November evening clad in hope and love I fired the hearth and lit up a candle paved the parlor with roses… Continue reading day vii: hope

today I am in disguise. I don’t claim these words as mine, but rather im in aw reading them so m gonna share them “I’ve written down the words That I’ve not dared to speak. My body’s strangely dumb. Dully my head beats. The horn cries have died. The heart’s still confused. On the croquet… Continue reading day vi: Anna Akhmatova

The bus climbs the steep hills of my home. The mountain almost won- deprived of sleep souls slouch on the glass thinking of everything other than the space abreast: not of the trees skirting along nor of the flowery seeds. blue sky bare and painted- touched by the divine The mountains have won in this… Continue reading Morning no.17

The hand brisk and urgent rapt in last night’s dishes and a hundred-word essay. between the curtains dust shaken, dances in the golden sun. Lost and absent, my mind wanders to everything that is not here Until you come remind me that I’ve already cleaned the divan. ** the reference to Tolstoy is taken from… Continue reading Tolstoy cleans the divan**

In the rear-view mirror suddenly I saw the bulk of the Beauvais cathedral; great things dwell in small ones for a moment By Adam Zagajewski

An image. canopy of thick foliage sheltered the marching souls. the marsh skirted the trail from the right. the moth danced in the misty shadows. penumbra of crossing shades the glittering stars swept the remains of sleepiness from the eyes of pilgrims on the camino de Santiago. Then, above the thicket, loomed the bridge. A… Continue reading The bridge

The denizen of the liminal stage Windows as many as doors Shutting the door made it easier  For the light to change its trajectory  Residing into darkness made it easier To observe every possible path That can and will not be  Bittersweet is to rule  Bittersweet is to concede. Sep 2017

If i were to give you the sea and the skies, would you ask  for more? I hugged my sister on a Tuesday evening and the air smelt of jasmine the sun rays tilted and penetrated out hug, making it warm but tell me if i gave you the mother of warmth would you ask… Continue reading Untitled

Struck  with awe and disbelief Jerusalem wrote me back A letter of apology and grief written with blood and charcoal.   On a dry August day she packed her luggage and letters written from numerous lovers the brazen sun blocked her way and pronounced the necessity of her sacrifice.   But Jeru Salem had one… Continue reading Jerusalem writes back