Rings of Smoke

These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis.

this morning

All the things I hoped would go away this morning. The stuff I live with every day. What I’ve trampled on in order to stay alive. But for a minute or two I did forget myself and everything else. I know I did. For when I turned back i didn’t know where I was. Until [...]

nothingness-2

things should be in their right place. a man in a white shirt and black trousers looks respectable. the same man in a black shirt and white trousers looks like a pimp. it is important. we survive on paper thin veneers of respectability. its like varnish, when it is new and shiny, people can smell [...]

nothingness

Unspoken words we scatter on the wind become poetry. Every poet wants to be heard. Most want to be heard by an audience of one. When they fail, they publish and get an audience of many. The objective of reading a book is not to finish it. Then it becomes a chore. A book is [...]

walls

Part-I we keep thinking, whether to talk, behind the veil of grey evenings and dystopic nights, sleepless in the dark, small lies and insignificant truths… i cannot stand this silence heavy with stiffness hanging between us like a faded portrait sepia tones of fading brilliance being lost in greyness small lies i think i will [...]

sheema kalbasi

recently discovered the poetry of sheema kalbasi. trying to find out as many poems as i can now. she writes beautiful poetry. check one out here: http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/sheema_kalbasi/poems/23565 extract: Time is eternity, my dignity resides in yours and your words are wonders that I count as precious coins kept quietly in the pockets of my tears

untitled

i think it is time,she said,to let me go,bury me, sweep the memories away with the yellow leafs blown in by the wind. do you still believe in love,when you go out in the night,on the roof, and shed your tears looking at the pale moon,do you still see a faded picture in it?or, does [...]

age

its a dull day, of course,no fires are there to be put out, since you left, the world is a calm place, with its dull shades of brown and grey, like you took out something with you, when you left, missed only in absence, colours… monochrome of life, and death, and unbeing,without you,swirling in eddies [...]

valentine

you wake up in my dreams, still speaking to me, in those same words, and looking at me in the same way, as i remember you, watching you walk to me, in the cold wind… a strange affection still invites you, speaks your words in my silences, as i wreathe myself in love deserted, it [...]

morning

At seven in the morning, At last, I decide to go out for tea, Walking alone, in the chill, Breathing in the morning, in small gulps. Stray dogs, and early morning trash,

reproach

there are many things i will have, to say to you,when we meet next, reproaches,recriminations,complaints…   i will,maybe,blame you, for leaving me,for being in and out of love, for your trust, which was like a weak candle, snuffed at the first gust of wind, maybe,i will tell you, how i hate you for that when [...]

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  • About The Line under the Blog Name

    The lines generally are from some poem which I have, at some point of time or the other, loved. I do not mean, by including them, to be snotty or pretentious- but I would love it if you could identify the lines, and take much joy if you were interested enough to search them and read the original poems. If not- you can ignore them.
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