Mercurial rain

Tippity toe, tippity toe
bringing forth joy as well as woe
moody, coy and capricious
seldom are you judicious
drowning castle or bleak hut
to your awry tune you strut
tippity toe, tippity toe
bringing forth joy as well as woe!

Tippity toe, tippity toe
bringing forth joy as well as woe
why do you show your wrath thus
can’t you pour without a fuss
sunburned grass and withered trees
sultry weather and no breeze
tippity toe, tippity toe
bringing forth joy as well as woe!

Written for dVerse MTB. Today’s host, Grace, says: Post a poem following the Octelle poetry form.

I have written two Octelle.


Where dreams had died and…

I am in his city after a long, long time
my impudent feet, despite my stern command,
traverse the same old path
they had taken some twenty years ago

It is a surprise that the place still stands
despite the modernization whirlwind
I make for the same corner table
the gladioli in the crystal vase
bring back memories that need exorcism

I order a bottle of Zinfandel to quieten the ghosts
as I wait, I glare at the textured walls
that snag my tortured thoughts
which have gone into a tailspin
listening to Cale in the background

There’s no buzz of conversation
as it is a slow Monday
discreetly under the table, I kick off my heels
and I can swear they sighed inaudibly
being caressed by the cool marble floor 

“Still the barefoot goddess!”
the voice from the past that could liquify my heart!
exasperated with my imagination
I shakily reach for my glass
he slides into the chair opposite me and just sits there_

biting my lips I try to contain the decades old maelstrom inside
it threatens to spill from my eyes
looking intently and earnestly into my welled up eyes,
he says, “Please let me begin from the beginning…

Written for dVerse poetics. Today’s host, Merril, says: So today, in my father’s honor, I invite you to write a poem of any style about a restaurant.

Silly antic ( a quadrille)

You were such a romantic
we were known as the duo dynamic
my love made you ecstatic
but lately you have been erratic
your ardour has become static
but today ain’t you being dramatic
declaring that I am not your type! How utterly pathetic!

Written for dVerse. Today’s host, De, says:  I want you to play with some form of the word type in your piece: typing, typed, typewriter, typography, typist.Archetypal.

On Rakshabandhan*

Dear brothers, I guess, like always, I will have to make the first move
I forgave mom on her deathbed for always coddling and favouring you two
I guess ’tis time to move on and forgive you two too!

Mind you, what you did was unforgivable and despicable
but over the years life has dealt unfair hand after unfair hand
you miserable dogs, I relent, I’ll no more grandstand!

Of late, my mind has been traversing the untrodden alleys of past
strangely, those happy, carefree childhood memories
are undimmed and undiminished by time’s vagaries

Dear brothers, I am sending you rakhi** after all these years
may you be bestowed with compassion, sensitivity and longevity
I couldn’t let go of this occasion to bless you with my magnanimity!

Written for Sadje’s wdys.

*Rakshabandhan will be celebrated on 11th August.

**Rakhi – sacred threads to be tied on the wrist.

Blank space

No hues can paint again
the blank canvas of this heart
a vacant, empty, forlorn space

how can I ever forget
those beautiful flowers;
your jeering parting gift to me

with a nonchalant twist
of your delicate wrist
you had bid adieu forever

your sharp, jabbing words
used with utmost dexterity
still cause my heart to bleed

I know now what it means
to have no one by my side
and a gnawing emptiness within.

Written for Sadje’s wdys.


The benevolence and magic of October
extended its warmth and vibrancy twice over
to the humid and humdrum August

showering it with boundless blessings
most precious and priceless
drenching it with sheer abundance

August, swinging between sweating and downpours,
is the month of plenitude for me;
rains or no rains.

Written for dVerse poetics. Today’s host Sanaa, says: For today’s Poetics, I want you all to write a poem about August. Feel it in your bones. Come tell us what the month means to you.

(August is special for me as both my kids were born on the same day four years apart.)