In no particular order I like the colour blue, Every time the baby cries, I remember amma How she cried too when the days got hard That time you brought me a flower I dreamt about a garden at night I don’t write as much…

Shake the earth, spring winds Break away the dead and dying Sing to life the new.

Cast away your support beams Of fallen and failed ideologies Save your strength for the new fight One without guns or blood Rather build up our young And teach them to think Without hate and greed and fog Bring them to the front With confidence…

This is the time, monsoon. Then Loves the cool air, dislikes the mud Loves the hot tea, dislikes the damp clothes. Likes to stay under the sheets Likes to see drops running over glass roof Loves to see rain from shelter, dislikes to get in…

Waves crashing Seagulls yakking To each other or to us? Hmmmmm Surfers thriving nearby Families and lovers and solitary walks All communing together In such a fun and zen way

What on earth made him do it? Fall for her… of all people. All us women knew she dripped venom. But she bewitched him something fierce I reckon. He went after her likes bees swarming a honey tree Mamaw said you can sugar coat a…

I don’t believe in God I believe in the Keeper of the Stars The thought of the conception of the universe Terrifies me The unknown   We are constantly being tested Have come close to failing But what does that entail?   Doomed to repeat…

It wasn’t supposed to be that way The way everyone started leaving us like they were destined to ride a star out to another galaxy It wasn’t supposed to happen so fast We were supposed to be able to sit around the fire telling stories…

The corners of my mouth lift slightly, long before my eyes sense the dance of daybreak. Sweet voices on my windowsill. Younger ones reply, eagerly awaiting something squirmy Ground beans releasing their nutty aroma Hiss and gurgle into the pot beneath Bacon spitting at potatoes…

24 poems, “The Dinner Party” Dinner Day: Prelude to the Guests   Gladly, the pie has set and the soups are sleeping and the exotic spices are temporarily sleeping   first the canapes in their moody forethought Then the tagine a wonderful display, I thought…