We’re all lost dots in the lattice.

Finding our way across dimensions,





(When we struck past one another

like two forlorn atoms in the dark,

was the brush strong enough to remind

how you and I had once connected

amidst the mesh and the web.

How we had given up a bit on our footholds

to go a tad towards each other’s way.

How we’d rested in each-other’s voids

amidst our fragile existences.

And how it was all rush and electric,

till the charge evanesced.)


When the end arrives, a zillion touch heavier,

will we get to pick what to forsake and which ones to hold?


Who knows where the forces lead.




Where the sun seldom rose like the south of Antarctic, the skeleton

mourned lacuna in its sombre hideout in apocalyptic dark.


When my Cimmerian soul conjured dreams of quaint springs

for the chaotic backyards of my mind.


And I ran amok amidst the wild shrubs in

the savanna, looking for birds of paradise till

you brushed past my rusty flesh like a holly wreath.


Till the quietest whispers of daybreak,

relentlessly across the nighted Pacific

let my demons fly with yours

defying gravity.




The heart has let loose,

But the mind holds on to the noose.

In the labyrinthine streets of

no strings attached

The nemeses are at war.

Shut are the thoughts,

confined the senses.

But in my clandestine reveries,

Fluoresces evanescent hope of serendipity.


When the obsession dampens to

Little pricks of recollections

And spirit immerses again, in tender bonhomie

At such times, dear Heart

Still remember what caused the mess.

Immerse -The Daily Post prompt



The larks and flamingos are revered at light,

But when the nights dawn and nocturnals rise

When clouds drape the moon in a starless sky

We awake from slumber, for we are

the sworn sovereigns of the night.


The specks of iridescence are overlapped by grey ashes

When in forest, burning bright are the fearful symmetries*.

In those hours, over the kingdom of nyctophiles,

with chirps of crickets and howling of wolves

the flaps of our wings lay in harmony.


Feeding on the shadows, morsel by morsel

And anchored to the hidden moonbeams

we soar to the cosmic hurricane.

Who said darkness is fearful, for us it’s synonymous to life.


(*From ‘The Tyger’ by William Blake)

Image courtesy: Pinterest




An imbrication of stares and blinks,

my nights have become a reverberation

of your whispers’ lilt.

As I swing back and forth

past my gossamer cloudland,

I envisage how it’d be like to float with

you through the hourglass of sand.


The demesne which I used to call mine

has now become your territory.

Trespass all you want, but shush,

you tread on my sleep.