Recent Poems

Crushed Mulberries

a poem by Anusha Sreekant

The stranger who visited my town yesterday
Brought me with a glint of fire in his eyes
A fistful of crushed mulberries.
Or mulberries that were crushed because he closed his fist too tight.
Either ways, it doesn’t matter.

And the crushed mulberries
With their juice tainting his worker-hands
And mixing with the sweat on his nervous palms
Smelt rather sweet.
Or something that sounded sweet at least.
Either ways, it doesn’t matter.

The crushed mulberries reminded me
Of lone roads burning
And dark nights in flames.
Or lone roads burning in the flames of the night.
Either ways, it doesn’t matter.

The taste of the crushed mulberries
That I threw from his hands onto the mud in the verandah
Felt a lot like your name against mine,
Your voice in return to a smile,
Like a dream half written in guilt
And rains that sang.
Or things I thought I would tell you
Like the cliché phrase – I loved you.
Either ways, it doesn’t matter.


a poem by Mayur Krishna Kalita

A dream;
Something you may laugh at,
Is what it is.
A plan;
You may say, a process;
So simple, yet so far
From the river,
Whereth all the sentiment come to drink.
I coexist.
But through a glass –
A filter of sorts.
No Mask, just a mirror
Distracting from what’s truly behind;
Carefully hidden in plain sight;
Not ungraspable.
But you are too busy, aren’t you?
Staring into yourselves.

Coming back, it’s simple;
Or is it now?
Waking up with no mountain atop my chest.
No negation, no lie.
Uninstitutionalised; Wild??
I don’t know.
But that’s what I am upto anyways.
The riches and repute? Depend,
On what they barter
What do I pay?
A blurry vision in gold for a clear sky at night.
Not my thing, not my agenda.
I end with you to prove my point,
My distracting manoeuvre.
Hindsight of the mirror, I hold
Theatricals on exhibit.

You think I see
A mask, a facade…
But you are bare!
Self-gloating a bit.

Even I need a moment in sun.


a poem by Tania Khurana

It changes color time to time like people
I always wanted to touch the sky with my bare hands
I once tasted it as I was standing at the edge of living
It tasted like my dreams and hope left in aliveness
When the sky is filled with clouds and
Sun overcomes it just like potential within ourselves
It was hard to touch the sky
So I measured with ambitions
As the storm and clouds were taking place
There was a feeling of lonesome deep within my heart
Heavy rain started to pour and that day I was crying with the sky
As the sun rises again
The brightness was too much to handle with my naked eyes
But the sunshine was lingering through my fingers
I closed my eyes to perceive the victory
The happiness of sky knew no bound
That day I described the “sky” as life

But first, I am a child

a poem by Pranita Rao Dr

Take a minute to listen to me,
I am one of you, I plead.
The skirt I wear, might scare you away,
My glossy lipstick might stain the memories of our beautiful days.
The hoarse voice in the skin of a dame may be the reason to your scream,
I know, that my doll figurine is why, I am a villain in you dream.
To you my lovely friend I say,
Don’t let the bond between us fade away.
My choice of attire does not make me less of a child,
Would you like it, if of all the respect, you were deprived?
You find my decorated lips disturbing,
Remember, dear one, that the taste of the cocoa
We had during the rainy school days was similarly appetizing.
How do you recognize my speech as antagonizing?
Isn’t it the same amiable voice that console’s you on a blue evening?
Hold my hand before I perish,
Peep into my suffering-soul and help me slowly flourish.
Take a minute to listen to me,
I am one of you, I plead.

Kings never die, they are born immortal

a poem by Rishabh Parmar

“Kings, never die, they are born immortal”
I heard such lines, somewhere
May be, in the stories? “’tis time to throttle”
“Pick up the pace and rise up in harmony”.

“Queens, always die, they are inbred mortal”
I never heard this line, never
’tis true, ’tis lack of reminiscence
We have only one amaranthine Queen, rest are dying in sewer

“All the Princes and Princesses get extravagant death”
Only a few become valuable, rest become unworthy
Fewer ones become great predecessors
They die, they salvage the throne bravely.

Empires rise, Empires fall
Stories dipped in eminence, denizens squall.

My blood

a poem by Vishnupriya S

To my world…

Not all men are wrong,
The care which my father shows me is strong.

Not all men are wild,
The affection which my brother shows me is kind.

And to my world…

Not all men are like my father and brother.

God’s gift

a poem by Vishnupriya S

Nature is compared to a woman,
Both are being tortured by a man.
If you are not able to preserve them,
Atleast don’t try to harm them.

A woman gives you the life,
And nature lets you to live the life.
Both gives you many things,
And without them you are nothing.

Respect a woman,
Woman is your lifespan.
Love the nature,
Nature is your future.

Hear the Silence

a poem by Abigail Fischer

Hear the silence
It’s deafening to me

The wind isn’t blowing
Encaptured in its own insanity
The leaves aren’t rustling
For they dream to be free
The grass moves not
Looking and longing at past memories

Hear the silence
It’s deafening to me

No child’s laughter
No warmth from the heart
Stands no other man
Ensnared at their start
No voice is from within
The silence has torn it apart

Lost the anger but also the guidance
Lost the enemies but also the alliance
Lost the will and show compliance
I have been consumed
Consumed by silence

Curseful Blessing

a poem by Vishnupriya S

Oh mankind!
Your eyes are filled with dust,
You are looking at me with lust.
I am not your feast,
Don’t try to attack me like a beast.
I do often pray,
But at last I became his prey.
My age is only seven,
But now I am in heaven.
Am I cursed or blessed?

The Story of Him

a poem by Mukesh Kumare

Dark was the space,
Fresh was the scar,
His heart was thumping soo loud,
That he was sure of not holding it for far;

Fear was in his eyes,
Confused was his mind,
He continuously asked himself,
Is it worth the sacrifice?

Then his heart became calm,
As he saw hope inside,
He said to himself,
Just let it go and don’t get fright;

He then took a leap of faith,
And from the blackest shadow,
In fraction of time,
He burst to become,
The Brightest Star;

His light conquered the dark,
Because it was now his time,
Though his eyes could not see,
But his soul was in every planet and every galaxy;

There were twinkling stars,
Shinning just like him,
They were spreading his rays of light,
To brighten every dim,

That was the power of hope,
Hope of creating some good,
Thus now he has become The God,
Strengthening every will,
And providing every food.

Frightening Sound

a poem by Mihika Sanjanwala

There once was a chital gazing around,
When he suddenly heard a sound,
A sound of footsteps,
Could it be human putting up snares?
Could his tale come to be magic?
Or would it be tragic?
Could it be his mother?
Or his friend another?
Gathering his tears,
And allaying his fears,
He imagined himself as the king of deer,
Which gave him some more cheer,
The brave chital bravely looked,
Guess what? It came to be a woodpecker hooked,
All this was noticed by another deer,
Who learnt, ‘Never judge the book by it’s cover!’

Voice of Asifa

a poem by Sinduja .

Your Asifa here, let me tell my story how my life has ended
They Kidnapped me at the age of playing hide and seek
They touched my chest when no hormones segregated
They pulled my underwear, which I do only to pee
Yes you guessed right, I haven’t reached puberty yet
They came closer to me one after one, slowly removed their clothes, all on top of me
I screamed… that was too heavy for me
I cried loud no one cared, neither did God
I lost my virginity without bleeding
Having the hope in my eyes, for someone to rescue me, I reached heaven…

The Irony of Our Times

a poem by Debasish Bhattacharyya

Is that we have bigger communities, but scarcer progressiveness
Wider revolutions, but lesser evolutions
We connect with people more, but rarely selflessly.

We have elite technology GAFA- Google, Apple, Facebook, Amazon
But little success in reducing poverty and inequity
More vulnerable to cyber-bullying, but less awareness
We are desirous of more modern gadget
But less sense of transitioning from affection to addiction
More time spending on screens, but less social abilities
More hard/software upgradations, but more feature-bloated new versions
More antivirus protection, but less security.

We have widened democratic norms, but squeezed together its spirit
We indulge in rhetoric, promise the moon, and then tend to forget soon
We are well versed in what it takes to outlast our rivals, but hardly fairly
We are good at clinging to power, but not powering people
We take pride in being the world’s largest democracy and trumpet
But slip in Global Democracy Index
We preach democracy to others, but soak up poor political culture
We claim to have just electoral system, but reluctant to electoral reform
We believe in more hyperbole, but less human betterment and uplift
We talk of just society but believe in political expediency
We take credits but turned democracy into a fig leaf to cover failures

These are the times of fraudsters, and crooks;
More money and only money.
These are the times of plastic smiles and laughter clubs
More songs, but less soulful; more luxury, but less contentment

These are days of Crèches and old age homes, but more heartlessness;
Of trafficking and child labor, but pseudo compassion
It is a time of religious abuse and medical abuse, and little fear

A time when life’s priorities are often at odds with each other

And a time when many are likely to ignore this, you decide

Either to ponder over it… or go back to living a mundane life.


a poem by Kassan J Kassim

Broken bones upon empty sheets
Fighting cursing enemies
Trying so hard to survive

Trying to find peace amongst all this chaos
Yet journeying in this crazy life
And along for it’s much crazier ride.

Tell me the time so I can set my watch
To match the time for me to live again
Give me a dollar and a dream to lay a foundation on
But our end result of the future will never be the same

My first love, Mother

a poem by Rohit Verma

She’s my first love
From whom I can never be apart
She’s the one who’ll remain forever in my heart,
But let me tell you who’s SHE before I start.

SHE’s my mother
Who have never compared me with others,
She’s my mother
Who loves me more than my little brother.

But is she just a housewife
Who is only for cutting vegetables.
Does she not work hard
Like men do?

My father says she only cooks,
But she also take care of my books.
She gets up at 5 AM in the morning,
She protects me by a lovely warning.

When she’s too angry
She starts to cry,
Then tell me how can I keep my eyes dry.

One time
I had fallen from the stairs,
She was the only one who picked me up.
On that day she had not eaten even a bit of bread,
Because my head was stiched.

On the next day I was in a little bit of confusion,
That why she remained hungry for me,
Is her life is not more valuable than mine.

I know how that blanket
Comes above me from its place every night
Her heart is the one where I have a reserved space.

Her ten missed calls
Twenty texts
Sometime irritated me
But when the doctor is not there she was there who aided me

At last I just want to say
For her I have millions of prayers
She should live longer than I stay
She remains happy from June To May…