Saturday, June 8, 2019

Next summer, I want to believe, I will be plucking the sky that always hangs right outside my bedroom window.

Sunday, January 20, 2019


It was nice as long as we were sipping the coffee,
its warmth flowing down our throat like molten honey,
the taste of your quickened heartbeat and the 
slow vapor from the coffee cups
were becoming the wet softness on my cheek as
we were hoping for a day in the future.
But when that day comes we had already spilled the coffee and those caustic words
making an ugly stain on the white table cloth.

Saturday, October 20, 2018

The Sketch

It's old fashioned to use paper and pencil, they say!
But, the early quiver of charcoal-grey line,

the smudge of an alley,

the murmuring whispering rustle of the ferrule and the tip,
the slow line that bursts into sudden laughter,

and a white page creating memories of happiness

make the Timesroman12font appear infertile.

Sunday, September 30, 2018

Generation Gap

The fresh scar on my mom’s newly replaced knee
is a shadow of a forgotten pain.
But the utter fear in her eyes

of losing her man, someday soon,
is growing roots and branching,

making me wish,
just once, I was as frightened;

 I could love as intensely,
beyond ego,
beyond pride,
at least once!