Imagine With your open eyes The things That you let just pass You can actually Do Breath Live Hold close Just be with it And You really Are face to face With the Real ‘you’! ~ Nehal
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Growing Time…in Words!
Imagine With your open eyes The things That you let just pass You can actually Do Breath Live Hold close Just be with it And You really Are face to face With the Real ‘you’! ~ Nehal
Read MoreForever is beyond Me and You And why should I Go after Something Which I cannot Even comprehend! I want to be Happy, Loved, Calm, And At peace; Now. And I know For sure That ‘Now’ is endless! ~Nehal
Read MoreA moment Is a dew dropOn a flower petalMirroring the rising SunGlowing IlluminatingEternityWithin.~Nehal(Written in response to a prompt ‘Moment’ given by #Beth Kempton#wabisabi #poetrychallenge # dowhatyouloveforlife.com)
Read MoreWe rise from the depths of our mindLike clouds…Travelling higher up In the mountains.We float, Striving to reach the Sun!~ Nehal
Read MoreBlackberry-Picking Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it Leaving stains… ~ Seamus Heaney…
Read MoreA window for seeing A window for hearing A window like a well that ends deep in the heart of the earth and opens out into this expanse of recurring blue kindness A window that overfills the tiny hands of loneliness with its nightly gift, the perfume of generous stars and from there one could…
Read MoreConversation with an American Writer “You’re a fearless young man—” they tell me… It’s not true. I’ve never been fearless. I’ve considered it unworthy, simply, to sink to my colleagues’ cowardice. I didn’t shake any sort of foundations. Laughed at the false and pompous, that’s all. Wrote–that’s all. Never wrote denunciations. And tried to say…
Read MoreINVOCATION May that apparent calm called scepticism never riddle my heart. Let me escape from the numbness of cynicism from the impartiality of shrugged shoulders. Let me believe always in life let me believe always in infinite possibilities. Deceive me, song of the sirens confer a gleam of naivety! Epidermis, never resemble a frozen implacable…
Read Moresource: scum-mag.com image source:Academy of New Zealand Literature
Read MoreIn the awareness, I am brought closer to my being from long before. In my awareness, there is only what I can take from the small spaces of knowing, an earnest ascendance imparted by way of transmissions from the grid, a voice calls out unbroken below and above as the aura of faraway light. There…
Read Moreमन मस्त हुआ तब क्यों बोले। हीरा पायो गाँठ गठियायो, बार बार वाको क्यों खोले। हलकी थी तब चढ़ी तराजू, पूरी भई तब क्यों तोले। सुरत-कलारी भई मतवारी, मदवा पी गई बिन तोले।। हंसा पाये मानसरोवर, ताल तलैया क्यों डोले। तेरा साहब है घर माहीं, बाहर नैना क्यों खोले। कहैं कबीर सुनो भाई साधो, साहब…
Read Moreblessing the boats may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love your back may you open your eyes to water water waving forever and may you in your…
Read MoreSuddenly, the green appears on the trees—as ifThe green passed silently from one tree to another.Children suddenly appear out of the chinks.They throw their balls high up in the air. The child is like a little hill of silence.Children—little hills of silence—are scatteredEverywhere in the world of words.Birds Throw notes of their song like balls…
Read MoreOriginally posted on Borderless:
Poetry of Munir Momin, translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch Munir Momin is a contemporary Balochi poet widely cherished for his sublime art of poetry. Meticulously crafted images, linguistic finesse and profound aesthetic sense have earned him a distinguished place in Balochi literature. His poetry speaks through images, more than words.…
Everything in flux and flow; The summer sun, the winter snow. Unfurl and bloom then wither, die. A cloudless day, a stormy sky. The new grows old, gives way to new, And inside me these seasons too. My branches bow to nature’s will, The next one: still. So I trust my storms will pass, In…
Read MoreThe Cyprian came to thy cradle, When thou wast little and small, And said to the nurse who rocked thee“ Fear not thou for the child: “She shall be kindly favoured, And fair and fashioned well, As befits the Lesbian maidens And those who are fated to love.” Hermes came to thy cradle, Resourceful,…
Read MoreDreamers SOLDIERS are citizens of death’s grey land, Drawing no dividend from time’s tomorrows. In the great hour of destiny they stand, Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows. Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives. Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin They think of…
Read MoreOur Revolution Must Be Different… Warrior/Houngan we salute you Frail body Towering spirit it is a savagery/that you have known. Our Revolution must be different Limping wizard prophet of the tribe it is brutality/visited upon you Our Revolution must be different it is not it is not it is not enough’- to make a change…
Read MorePrimordial Chaos Time, so many cobblestones placed in wilderness, so much sand ground fine. How many stones, how much sand hidden out of sight? I have been looking for the book of incantations but it seems it has long since turned to ash. I have gazed into many eyes, all vague and absorbed. I once…
Read MoreDeath in the evening High, high. Her last words wandered across the ceiling like clouds. The sideboard wept. The apron shivered as if covering an abyss. The end. The young ones had gone to bed. But towards midnight the dead woman got up, put out the candles (a pity to waste them), quickly mended the…
Read MoreThe Flood (English version) A woman flooded her man. It came about slowly. One day he glanced at her. She seeped through his eyes, a drop at a time, and in time she soaked his feet up to the ankles. Sitting in a thoughtful repose in his armchair, the man didn’t notice. Later she changed…
Read MoreTo feel compassionate for all living beings is a first step towards living a spiritual life but to be able to forgive killers, assassins requires a heart as noble as Thich Nhat Hanh. Personally I was finding it difficult to forgive ghastly crimes and the criminals who carry out in cold blood till I read…
Read MoreCadastral: The Black Girl Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Where are you from? No, I mean where are you really from? Go back where you came from? Is that your [insert child, insert hair, insert flag]? Why does everything have to be about race [translation – you. Why are you you? Why are you here?…
Read MoreIt takes a certain cussedness to be a tree in this city, a certain inflexible woodenness to dig in your heels and hold your own amid lamp-posts sleek as mannequins and buildings that hold sun and glass together with more will-power than cement, to continue that dated ritual, re-issuing a tireless maze of phalange and…
Read Moreइश्क़ में जी को सबरो-ताब कहां उससे आंखें लगें तो ख्वाब कहां हस्ती अपनी है बीच में पर्दा हम न होवें तो फिर हिजाब1कहां गिरिया-ए-शब2 से सुर्ख हैं आंखें मुझ बलानोश को शराब कहां इश्क़ है आशिक़ों के जलने को ये जहन्नुम3 में है अज़ाब4 कहां इश्क़ का घर है मीर से आबाद ऐसे फिर…
Read MoreOn the Treasury of the true Dharma Eye Midnight. No waves, no wind, the empty boat is flooded with moonlight. ~ Dogen (1200-1253)
Read MoreHouse-bound in winter Turning to my books before Even washing my face ~Shiki (1867-1902)
Read MoreEmpty your mind of all thoughts. Let your heart be at peace. Watch the turmoil of beings, but contemplate their return. Each separate being in the universe returns to the common source. Returning to the source is serenity. If you don’t realize the source, you stumble in confusion and sorrow. When you realize where you…
Read MoreI heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men! And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, good-will to men! Till ringing, singing…
Read MoreChange The bucket swallows sweaters, a ball of yarn that bloomed in a mother’s lap, ripe, plum-like it dropped from her sari tumbling towards the kitchen sink full of colours, sparkling, bright, the day white, spills and swallows leaves near the doorstep, a few of her tears, run across her broken cheeks. The balance of dry…
Read MoreOn the other side of the Rainbow… All my landscapes were grey With my eyes full of tears I looked at you Rays of your sunshine smile Falling gently on each of them And see the magic Me, my being…drenched in Raining rainbows! ~ Nehal This time it took longer than usual for me to…
Read MoreGift A day so happy. Fog lifted early, I worked in the garden. Hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers. There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess. I knew no one worth my envying him. Whatever evil I had suffered, I forgot. To think that once I was the same man did not…
Read MoreThese days My thoughts are like Migratory birds Visiting me from Far far away, unknown regions Fill the sky of my mind With their Beauty, sounds and movements of their wings And when they leave They leave without a trace Can’t keep them even in my memory And I start waiting For One more winter!…
Read MoreELEMENTAL Is the word the work Of someone who tills the blue field, Unearths its dark plenitude For the tight seed to release its thought Into the ferment of clay, Searching to earth the light And come to voice in a word of grain That can sing free in the breeze, Bathe in the yellow…
Read Moreask yourself often: am I observing the situation accurately or am i projecting how i feel onto what is happening? ~ Yung Pueblo (Inward)
Read MoreAs time goes by,You will loosen your grip on that rock,The one you always thought was home,And you will realise that home is not a place,It’s a state of mind. *Let it go* … As time goes by,You will learn to see yourself more clearly,The girl/ boy who was always too much of one thing,And…
Read More* Look, so holy: green leaves young leaves in the light of the sun .. * The start of poetry: a rice-planting song in the interior .. * Pouring the hot sun into the sea, the Mogami River .. * From today on, erase the inscript, dew on my hat .. * As I sweep…
Read MoreTruth Serum We made it from the ground-up corn in the old back pasture. Pinched a scent of night jasmine billowing off the fence, popped it right in. That frog song wanting nothing but echo? We used that. Stirred it widely. Noticed the clouds while stirring. Called upon our ancient great aunts and their long…
Read MoreWhenever you see a tree Thinkhow many long yearsthis tree waited as a seedfor an animal or bird or wind or rainto maybe carry it to maybe the right spotwhere again it waited months for seasons to changeuntil time and temperature were fine enough to coax itto swell and burst its hard shell so it…
Read MoreBurning the Old Year Letters swallow themselves in seconds. Notes friends tied to the doorknob, transparent scarlet paper, sizzle like moth wings, marry the air. So much of any year is flammable, lists of vegetables, partial poems. Orange swirling flame of days, so little is a stone. Where there was something and suddenly isn’t, an…
Read MoreMeeting at an Airport You asked me once, on our way back from the midmorning trip to the spring: “What do you hate, and who do you love?” And I answered, from behind the eyelashes of my surprise, my blood rushing like the shadow cast by a cloud of starlings: “I hate departure . .…
Read MoreA Voiceless Cry The sound of green footsteps is the rain They’re coming in from the road, now Thirsty souls and dusty skirts brought from the desert Their breath burning, mirage-mingled Mouths dry and caked with dust They’re coming in from the road, now Tormented-bodied, girls brought up on pain Joy departed from their faces…
Read MoreMay Day A delicate fabric of bird song Floats in the air,The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere. Red small leaves of the maple Are clenched like a hand,Like girls at their first communion The pear trees stand. Oh I must pass nothing by Without loving it much,The raindrop try with my lips, The grass with my touch; For how…
Read Moresource: The 3-2-1 Thursday newsletter by James Clear Author and anthropologist Carlos Castaneda on mindset: Source: Journey To Ixtlan: The Lessons of Don Juan
Read MoreONCE in the dream of a night I stood Lone in the light of a magical wood, Soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang; And spirits of Truth were the birds that sang, And spirits of Love were the stars that glowed, And spirits of Peace were the streams that flowed In that magical wood in…
Read MoreHigh Tide I edged back against the night.The sea growled assault on the wave-bitten shore.And the breakers,Like young and impatient hounds,Sprang, with rough joy on the shrinking sand.Sprang, but were drawn back slowly,With a long, relentless pull,Whimpering into the dark. Then I saw who held them captive;And I saw how they were boundWith a broad…
Read More…. Summer In Calcutta What is this drink butThe April sun, squeezedLike an orange inMy glass? I sip theFire, I drink and drinkAgain, I am drunkYes, but on the goldof suns, What noblevenom now flows throughmy veins and fills mymind with unhurriedlaughter? My worriesdoze. Wee bubbles ringmy glass, like a bride’snervous smile, and meetmy lips.…
Read MoreA Fish’s Wish There was once a fishtired of the sea, oppressedleaped high, escapedfrom the prison of the sea. Saw first time the shorethe spaces so far! From the security of watersfrom its bothersbroke loose from barriers of fleshlanded writhing on the beachpining for waterfrom her burning breathher world was on fire. The fish of…
Read MoreEvery province and kingdom under heaven fronting on the Great Wall, no city has avoided shield and sword. Why can’t the weapons be cast into ploughshares, and every inch of abandoned field tilled by oxen? Tilled by oxen, spun by silkworms: don’t condemn heroes to weep like heavy rains, leave men to grain, women to…
Read MoreTell me how do I carry your weight under my skin,inside my blood? Your storieslisten to the walls in Anna Karenina’s heart, the lightpoured out from her bones, they turn into glow wormscarrying the weight of stars. The night. Its scent. The tremor of beliefin those dark eyes where simoom waitsfor the map in your body to wake…
Read MoreHard Life with Memory I’m a poor audience for my memory. She wants me to attend her voice non-stop, but I fidget, fuss, listen and don’t, step out, come back, then leave again. She wants all my time and attention. She’s got no problem when I sleep. The day’s a different matter, which upsets her.…
Read MoreFalse Notions, Fears, And Other Things Of Wood Repeatedly, that sturdy stump in mebears up like stone,beneath some ritual I see:the blinding axeswings up, holds,that moment of its weightlessnessinscrutabletill I confirm the arm is mine;I will it, grip,feel moist the swelling handle,the shudder rude,the difference fallen. Toward that chopping blockI carry in me woodthings—infectious undergrowthpretending…
Read MoreSong of the open door When the beastly blizzards roar – angrily and often, there’s no need to lock the door, leave the door wide open. And if your road is stretching far, a grueling road, supposing, remember – leave your door ajar, don’t walk away and close it. And as you leave in calm…
Read MoreLOVE SONG How shall I keep my soul from touching yours? How shall I lift it up beyond you to other things? Ah, I would gladly hide it in darkness with something lost in some silent foreign place that doesn’t tremble when your deeps stir. Yet whatever touches you and me blends us together…
Read MoreI heard splashing on the boat her bare feet And sensed in our faces the hungry dusk My heart swaying between her and the street, the road I don’t know where I found the strength to free myself from her eyes to slip from her arms She stayed, crying through rain and glass clouded with…
Read MoreThere’s No Lamp in the World Tonight Darkness is a refugee in our shadows it’s a little child that wakes up in the middle of the night – remembering the rose chintz of my lamp and a milk jug my grandfather brought home from Germany during the World War underneath the rose-gold hue was written…
Read Moreशब्दों का दुःख आदमियों की तरहशब्दों के दुःखों की सूची भीख़ूब लंबी है। शब्दों में भी होती हैबहुत कुछ अनकही वेदनाइसीलिए आजकल शब्द सारेनज़र आते हैंनितांत असहाय और विषण्ण। भाव, अर्थ और संलाप के कोलाहल के बाहर रह करशायद वे भी जीना चाहते हैं,निजता और एकांत जीवन। सारा जीवन भावों का भार ढोते-ढोतेझुक कर चल…
Read More“I Am Not I” I am not I. I am this onewalking beside me whom I do not see,whom at times I manage to visit,and whom at other times I forget;who remains calm and silent while I talk,and forgives, gently, when I hate,who walks where I am not,who will remain standing when I die. ~Juan…
Read MoreSummer Silence Eruptive lightnings flutter to and froAbove the heights of immemorial hills;Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woeLimply down-sagging, its limp body spillsUpon the earth. A panting silence fillsThe empty vault of Night with shimmering barsOf sullen silver, where the lake distilsIts misered bounty.—Hark! No whisper marsThe utter silence of the untranslated stars. ~ E.…
Read MoreWe are like the stray line of a poem which always feels that it rhymes with another line, and must find it or miss its own fulfilment. ~Tagore The Poet A spiral is his heart, He goes down step by step, Plunging into abysses to bring up The really new, Not clever empty rearrangements Of…
Read MoreThe Burning of The Books When the Regime ordered that the books with dangerous teachings should be publicly burnt and everywhere Oxen were forced to draw carts full of books To the funeral pyre, an old poet, one of the best, Discovered with fury when he studied the list Of the burned, that his own…
Read MoreWords All round me are words, and words and words,They grow on me like leaves, they neverSeem to stop their slow growingFrom within… But I tell my self, wordsAre a nuisance, beware of them, theyCan be so many things, aChasm where running feet must pause, toLook, a sea with paralysing waves,A blast of burning air…
Read MoreHello Readers, After venturing into art, yoga, meditation, micro-greens, plants… I was looking for some activity which we ( me and my daughters) can do together as a team. Also it should be interesting, involving some creativity and the end result should give instant gratification! You know what I mean! Our culinary journey was one…
Read MoreHi everyone, Learning a new hobby and nurturing it; is not merely distracting your mind away from current situation, but focusing and getting involved in something you love; allows you to distance yourself from all the negative things happening around you and you can examine them with more objectivity, calmness of mind. I have been…
Read MorePainting silver linings over my clouds! Hello Readers, It’s been almost a year, since the Covid-19 pandemic started and lockdown was imposed. Initially we all thought it may not last long and in 2-3 months’ time everything will be back to normal but it turned out to be totally different. Unlike our earlier SARS encounters,…
Read MoreThese Vākhs or verses are like visions during meditation or like realisation of the eternal Truth. Initially they were transmitted through centuries by oral tradition only. For further explanation of all such verses I would recommend you to read this beautiful book. I burnt up the landscape with footprints, looked for Him everywhere.Then it hit…
Read MoreThe Hill We Climb When day comes, we ask ourselves where can we find light in this never-ending shade?The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.We’ve braved the belly of the beast.We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace,and the norms and notions of what “just” is isn’t always justice.And yet, the dawn is ours…
Read More“The Musician played the violin…” To I. Shwartz The musician played the violin — I was gazing at his eyes. It was not like I was prying — I was flying in the skies. It was not from merely boredom – but I yearned to understand how such sounds could be conjured by such simple…
Read MoreChoices if i can’t dowhat i want to dothen my job is to notdo what i don’t wantto do it’s not the same thingbut it’s the best i cando if i can’t havewhat i want thenmy job is to wantwhat i’ve gotand be satisfiedthat at least thereis something moreto want since i can’t gowhere i…
Read MoreStationery The moon did not become the sun. It just fell on the desert in great sheets, reams of silver handmade by you. The night is your cottage industry now, the day is your brisk emporium. The world is full of paper. Write to me. ~Agha Shahid Ali ( From The Veiled Suite The Collected…
Read MoreNunchi (noon-chee ) : ‘eye measure’, or the subtle art of gauging other people’s thoughts and feelings to build harmony, trust and connection. The unit of nunchi is the room. It has its own ‘temperature’, ‘barometric pressure’, volume, mood–and these are in constant flux. An intrinsic part of nunchi is the dimension of change: understand…
Read MoreAll my lifeI have been in search ofAn eternal beauty.Why should I seek it imperishable??Waves of the sea spread theirFrills and lace on the shoreEvery time they rush out and in….Foot steps on the desert sandCreate a beautiful patternOnly to be taken awayBy the wind the next moment.Drops of rain on the window paneThey sing,…
Read MoreI Love this poem so much that I wish to write it on one of the walls of my study room. I have lost the count how many times I have read it and every time I have found new meanings in it. Path of Light Where have you come from?From the other world.And…
Read MoreI killed a spider Not a murderous brown recluse Not even a black widow And if the truth were told this Was only a small sort of papery spider Who should have run When I picked up the book But she didn’t And she scared me And I smashed her I don’t think I am…
Read MoreI Am Waiting I am waiting for my case to come up and I am waitingfor a rebirth of wonderand I am waiting for someoneto really discover Americaand wailand I am waiting for the discoveryof a new symbolic western frontier and I am waiting for the American Eagleto really spread its wingsand straighten up and fly rightand I am…
Read MoreSelf Portrait It doesn’t interest me if there is one Godor many gods.I want to know if you belong or feelabandoned.If you know despair or can see it in others.I want to knowif you are prepared to live in the worldwith its harsh needto change you. If you can look backwith firm eyessaying this is…
Read MoreThe Stolen Branch In the night we shall go into steala flowering branch. We shall climb over the wallin the darkness of the alien garden,two shadows in the shadow. Winter is not yet gone,and the apple tree appearssuddenly changedinto a cascade of fragrant stars. In the night we shall go inup to its trembling firmament,and…
Read Moreसिर्फ तुम्हारे लिए… सिमोन (4) जानती हो सिमोन, मैं अकसर सोचती हूँसोचती क्या, चाहती हूँ पहुँचाऊँकुछ प्रतियाँ ‘द सेकंड सेक्स’ की उन तक नहींजो अपना ब्लॉग अपडेट कर रही हैं मीटिंग की जल्दी में हैंबहस में मशगूल हैं ‘सोचनेवाली औरतों’ तक नहीं उन तक जो एक अदद दूल्हा खरीदे जाने के इंतजारमें बैठी हैंकई साल…
Read MoreHome Give me a home that isn’t mine, where I can slip in and out of rooms without a trace, never worrying about the plumbing, the colour of the curtains, the cacophony of books by the bedside. A home that I can wear lightly, where the rooms aren’t clogged with yesterday’s conversations, where the self…
Read MoreA Sea of Foliage Girds our Garden round Sonnet.- Baugmaree A sea of foliage girds our garden round, But not a sea of dull unvaried green, Sharp contrasts of all colors here are seen; The light-green graceful tamarinds abound Amid the mango clumps of green profound, And palms arise, like pillars gray, between; And o’er…
Read Moresource : Where I Live : New & Selected Poems
Read MoreTranslator’s Note: Padmanabha: Lord Vishnu from whose navel the lotus flower is believed to emerge source : poetryinternational.org
Read Moresource : thenagarepublic.com Image source : google images
Read Moreउषा प्रात: नभ था बहुत नीला शंख जैसे भोर का नभ; राख से लीपा हुआ चौका; अभी गीला पड़ा है बहुत काली सिल ज़रा से लाल केसर से कि जैसे धुल गई हो स्लेट पर या लाल खड़िया चाक मल दी हो किसी ने नील जल में या किसी की गौर झिलमिल देह जैसे हिल…
Read MoreGift O my love, what gift of mine Shall I give you this dawn? A morning song? But morning does not last long – The heat of the sun Wilts it like a flower And songs that tire Are done. O friend, when you come to my gate At dusk What is it you ask?…
Read MoreDigital artwork by Nehal
Read MoreDigital artwork by Nehal
Read MoreDigital artwork by Nehal
Read MoreDigital artwork by Nehal
Read MoreMegan Married Herself She arrived at the country mansion in a silver limousine.She’d sent out invitations and everything:her name written twice with “&” in the middle,the calligraphy of coupling.She strode down the aisle to “At Last” by Etta James,faced the celebrant like a keen soldier reporting for duty,her voice shaky yet sure. I do. I…
Read MoreWhat The Mapmaker Ought To Know On this island things fidget.Even history.The landscape does not sitwillinglyas if behind an easelholding posewaiting onsomeoneto pencilits lines, composeits best featuresor unruly contours.Landmarks shift,become unfixedby earthquakeby landslideby utter spite.Whole places will slipout from your grip. ~ Kei Miller © 2015, Kei MillerFrom: The Cartographer Tries to Map a Way to ZionPublisher:…
Read MoreExcerpts from the Poem : IIINarrator Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes —Some have got broken — and carrying them up to the attic.The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,And the children got ready for school. There are enoughLeft-overs…
Read MoreWish you all A Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! ~ Nehal In Memoriam, [Ring out, wild bells] Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night;Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the…
Read MoreInfinite Stars The infinite stars are twinkling—The dark blue sky,Why have I never heard their whispers?In the tranquility,And in the eclipsed light,They express their encomiums sincerely … Human beings!Learn to love each other,We are all travelers on the long voyageTo the same destination. … My friends!Why do you think me taciturn?There is something in the…
Read MoreStones I bring them from the mountains,from the sea, from the edgeof streams and look at them,heft them, hold them hardwhile they keep holding themselvesharder. Is it becausethey haven’t had to changetheir surfaces in our timethough, in theirs, they’ve sufferedthe blunt demands of iceand water and wind and godknows fire, been cracked and frozen,thawed, made…
Read MoreAUTUMN SUMMARY In evening’s dome each bird is a point of memory.It’s amazing sometimes how the years’ fervorreturns, returns without a body, returns for no reason at all,how beauty, so brief in its violent love,saves us an echo as night falls. And so, what can you do but stand there slack-armed,your heart overloaded and that…
Read MoreWoman with Eyes Wide Open life plays in the plaza with the self I never was and here I am my thoughts dance on the tightrope of my smile and everyone says this happened and is happening happening my heart opens the window life here I am my life my lone numbed blood resonates in…
Read MoreThe Snail sets . what it knows of this . inelegant world, outside . and quietly folds . …
Read MoreA Prayer at the Bridge between the Centuries War is consigned to history Disaster to memory The scars and tears form a natural screen In a drizzle A rainbow appears like a bridge between the centuries At the end and the beginning of time Separating past and future Now it is Dusk at century’s end…
Read More“Tell me, what else should I have done?” – (This line is from a poem by Mary Oliver). “Tell me, what else should I have done?” Not come that day? Phone up and say ‘I am not well?’ And lie – not speak my truth that way? But I did come! . . . Though feeling…
Read MoreMUSIC Let me go where’er I will,I hear a sky-born music still:It sounds from all things old,It sounds from all things young,From all that’s fair, from all that’s foul,Peals out a cheerful song. It is not only in the rose,It is not only in the bird,Not only where the rainbow glows,Nor in the song of…
Read MoreMiddle Class Blues We can’t complain.We’re not out of work.We don’t go hungry.We eat.The grass grows,the social product,the fingernail,the past.The streets are empty.The deals are closed.The sirens are silent.All that will pass.The dead have made their wills.The rain’s become a drizzle.The war’s not yet been declared.There’s no hurry for that.We eat the grass.We eat the…
Read MoreEverything Is Going To Be All Right How should I not be glad to contemplate the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window and a high tide reflected on the ceiling? There will be dying, there will be dying, but there is no need to go into that. The lines flow from the hand unbidden and…
Read MoreA Song For Those Who Know Something must be done right awaythat much we knowbut of course it’s too soon to actbut of course it’s too late in the dayoh we knowwe know that we’re really rather well offand that we’ll go on like thisand that it’s not much use anywayoh we knowwe know that…
Read Moreતમારા સૌનો ખૂૂબ ખૂબ આભાર, આ સફરમાં સાથે રહેવા માટે. વિઝીટ, વ્યૂ, લાઈક, કમેન્ટ…બધ્ધું જ આવકાર્ય છે, અહીં આવતા રહેજો, લખતા રહેજો. 🙂 ❤ હું જે વાંચું છું, ઑનલાઈન, પુસ્તકોમાં, બીજા બ્લૉગ્સ પર એ બધું મારા મનમાં જાતજાતની અસર ઊભી કરે છે અને કોઈ નવા જ સ્વરૂપે મારા હ્રદયમાંથી ઉદભવે છે. આ બ્લૉગ એ બધી…
Read MoreWind-Up Doll Even more, oh yes,one can remain silent even more. Inside eternal hoursone can fix lifeless eyeson the smoke of a cigarette,on a cup’s form,the carpet’s faded flowers,or on imaginary writings on the wall. With stiff claws one can whisk the curtains aside, look outside. It’s streaming rain. A child with a balloon bouquet cowers beneath a canopy.…
Read MoreI wanted to share with you all my feelings of gratitude as my blog completes six years. It is because of your visits, likes, comments I feel energised and inspired to continue further. Thanks a lot! ~Nehal During this long journey of six years many times I have thought that I should post poems, ghazals,…
Read MoreDigital artwork by Nehal
Read MoreI am hereIn me, sometimes.I speakmyself, sometimes.I see in the mirrorMy face, sometimes.I walk on the grassOf this planet, sometimes.I breath – in this earthIn my dreams, sometimes.I float I flyI rainI sprout I growI fallLike a star, sometimes.I come I goI touch the shores of life,Sometimes.The words that I write I singI read I…
Read MoreI Will Greet The Sun Again I am sending-my warmest greetings to the sun,and to the tender rivers that streamed in my veins,and to the raining clouds that forever carried- my endless dreams-to the other side. Also,my greetings go-to the poplar trees in the yard-and their sore but graceful aging-under the comes and goes of…
Read MoreHow you lost yourself Hey, you.yes you.Wake up! Where have you been, all this while?Staring away at screens, your conscience turning fragileDo you even remember the last time whensomeone looked into your eyes and gave you a genuine, warm smile?Amidst the endless shooting colors and the lightpixels flashing from the device you hold so tightyou’re…
Read MoreThe Passionate Sword Temper my spirit, oh Lord, Burn out its alloy, And make it a pliant steel for thy wielding, Not a clumsy toy, A blunt, iron thing in my hands That blunder and destroy. Temper my spirit, oh Lord, Keep it long in the fire; Make it one with the flame. Let it share That up-reaching desire. Grasp it thyself, oh…
Read MoreOn the Passage of Days Events follow events In close succession Time is A heavily knotted string, Swift and dangerous, It moves, hurting me And scarring my grand Memories for the future. Events follow events In close succession. They are Pebbles on the sea shore, Driven to and fro, Roaring and grating And tearing the…
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