Poetry is the stillness between thoughs. A silent rhythm that connects memory and emotions. here I share the verses that have found me………

English Poetry

“Poetry is my soul’s whisper—rhythmic, raw, and real. Each verse, a wave breaking gently upon the shore of memory.”

My Heart Sings

When my heart sings

The beads my eyes shed

I thread them in a string

and turn them over and over in my mind

where memories reside

and with love I bring

them out as verses- I sing

the solace I find

Thus Said the Chicken

They talk a lot about their concern

for the animals and they catch the poachers

and burn the confiscated hides

to show they won’t let the atrocities continue

on endangered animals

and for the dinner they order chicken stew

Sirloin, pigs ears, ox tongues

and steak well done or just right

Make up the menu main

but I am the one everyone likes

anytime of the day or night.

If this is not doublespeak what is?

Human being is the fiend

On this planet, please don’t mind my saying it.

A Girl Named Diana

There was a girl in our office named Diana

Boss’s favourite and said to be sleeping with him

pretty and well-endowed, though she was a bit dim

they said the child she carried was his

and so was it understood but I always thought

it was a gossip because

how could she get from him

what his three ex-wives could not

A Girl Named Diana

There was a girl in our office named Diana

Boss’s favourite and said to be sleeping with him

pretty and well-endowed, though she was a bit dim

they said the child she carried was his

and so was it understood but I always thought

it was a gossip because

how could she get from him

what his three ex-wives could not

A Girl Named Diana

There was a girl in our office named Diana

Boss’s favourite and said to be sleeping with him

pretty and well-endowed, though she was a bit dim

they said the child she carried was his

and so was it understood but I always thought

it was a gossip because

how could she get from him

what his three ex-wives could not

A Girl Named Diana

There was a girl in our office named Diana

Boss’s favourite and said to be sleeping with him

pretty and well-endowed, though she was a bit dim

they said the child she carried was his

and so was it understood but I always thought

it was a gossip because

how could she get from him

what his three ex-wives could not