Archives

White Leaves

Oct29

All the trees in my country

have white barks that

give birth to white leaves.

Some stems have no offspring

while others have mutilated leaves. 

I have a disfigured face and my

grown friend needs help dressing up. 

All of us fear toy guns, water guns 

and any signs of violence.

Yet I have seen videos

of your world 1000 years ago.

A beautiful world with green leaves

and healthy children.

I shudder at the anger and violence in your eyes. 

We are now reaping your thirst for blood 

and your experiment with nuclear war.

See for yourself. 

All the trees in my country

have lifeless white barks

that mourn

the loss of humanity.

Path to Peace

Oct21

The soldier saw

reddish-orange blood pouring out

of his enemy’s chest

as he thrust his glossy sword

deep inside.

Reddish-orange, the color of the setting sun,

he thought, pointless.

For the first time, he looked into his

enemy’s face. Was he 17 or 18?

His hands numbed and bones quivered as he

imagined his youngest brother

soaked in reddish-orange blood.

Another enemy lay beside the young one,

like crushed leaves,

his dark crimson blood reminiscent

of the sky before a storm.

What is the color of my blood?

he wondered. What did he fight for?

Expansion? Race? Religion?

A vulture sat in the stench of blood,

her mouth purplish-red,

jaw dripping,

observing and waiting.

Suddenly, scared of all the red around him,

the soldier dragged himself out

of the battlefield.

His helmet and sword slipped away

in search of a better warrior.

His legs strolled where his heart led and

he stopped in front of a monastery.

He knelt with force

as the monastery bells rang,

his knees brushing

the hard rock below.

He found that his blood

was reddish-yellow

like a scattered autumn leaf.

He lifted his eyes

as the sun broke through the trees

illuminating his path to peace.

My E-Chapbook Published in Proletaria

Mar29

Hi Friends,

My E-Chapbook, Pinewood Hills, has been published in Proletaria. It contains haiku, one-line poetry and haibun. Proletaria publishes wonderful modern haiku and monostichs. If you like reading haiku and one-line poetry, do visit their site.

Do read and let me know what you think of my work. Here is the link.

Dark Lane

Aug13

I walk in a lonely

dark lane,

I fear the night

Cicadas tease me

with their low hiss.

My home is still far away,

I hit a stone

and my heart freezes

at the sharp sound.

I look around

and fear turns into wonder

as a bud blossoms

into a purple flower.

Bees swarm

around the new-born flower

and I find a place

in a rusty bench.

I don’t want to move

I don’t want to go home

I swap my fear

for joy and wonder,

glued to the mesmerizing

beauty of the night