VERSE | STRANGER THAN FICTION

I look at the book
Have I read it before?
It’s a throng of short stories
My favourite genre
I took it from the shelf
In my own home
So it has to be one of the
For-sure-read tomes
Still, as I glanced
At the back cover blurb
Nothing jumped out
Not a line, not a word
I looked at its front
Multi shades of grey
The image glimmered
In its dusky array

I opened the book
I had to recall
A story, a plot twist
A mystery resolved
In the 267 pages
I held in my hand
So I started reading
Page one, it began:
That day Alisha
Looked up at the sky
The purples and blues
Looked terribly awry …

The rest of the story
Unwrapped itself
As I glanced through page two
Of the book from my shelf
Yes I had read it
The memory crept in
Of ETs and UFOs
And otherworldly things

Of skittering creatures
That had huge heads
Full of insidious plans
To make us all dead
Or not! Even in fiction
They were polite
Giving us choices
Being forthright
Choices! Forthrightness!
Now those are things
That are as alien now as
Well … human beings!
Laughing, I put
The Sci-Fi away
Our own lives were stranger
Than fiction these days

VERSE | A SWEET ENCOUNTER

I looked at her over my coffee mug 
Stealing silent glances
Looking her way
Then looking away
My heart had set up a regular cacophony
As I stared at her secretly
From above the rim of my cup
That I brought to my lips to sip,
The adrenaline instead making me chug
She sat there, serene and beautiful
An ode to perfection itself
Between the gulps I watched and drooled
Oh lord! I felt like such a fool!
I took in a ragged breath
I had to calm myself
I had to let the feeling pass
To wring it, wash it from my heart
I had to fight, wrest my hungry eyes
Off that whetter of fantasies, that queen of delight
That mesmerizing, will-defying Passion Fruit Tart

VERSE | RODS AND CONES

Day breaks and I’m asleep
But I can tell its dawn again
The light touches my retina
Through the barrier of my skin
It gently feels its way around
The darkness behind my shuttered lids
Then it sits itself down
Waiting for me to let it
Begin its morning ritual of
Dancing with my rods and cones
The caper sometimes morphs into
A red hot duel that is fought
Electro-impulsively in my brain
Where the battleground is wrought
Or we break into a marathon run
Away, away from every one
Flowing with the adrenaline
Out of the arteries, into the veins
I lead it where it needs to go
Some days we waltz, and on some
We antelope it out the door
Today breaks, I open my eyes
My rods and cones are in for a surprise

VERSE | I LURRRVE YOU!

This is for the ladies. Amidst all the funniness abounding in the verse, there is a subtle message of self love and self reliance.

Here’s hoping that we can always read between the literal and figurative noisy lines that may be thrown at us in the name of love. And that our peace of mind and our sense of self worth always supersede other enterprises of the liver (jigar) and the heart!

No offence to my male family, friends and acquaintances - these are truth-telling times!
He said I love you 
Like I have never loved another
I said you’re 48 and you’re still
Looking for that perfect other?

Surely you’ve felt something in that realm
You have walked down lovers lanes
Were you perchance arm in arm
With your tonic and your gin?
And not a woman whom you’d consider
A partner and a friend
No, she was always just a trip
A means towards an end
Each bedecked your evenings out
The “I love yous” that left your lips
Were whispered as sweet nothings
In between your boozy sips
And now you tell me that
You’re in love with me too
Except it’s not your usual form
You don’t know what’s happened to you!
Maybe your three-month romances
Would extend to five with me
But the Shallow Hal* in you, pal
Is still waiting to count to three
And then your extra special
Trademark escape artistry
Will take center stage
It’ll be the same old page
From your book of Love for Free

That day he said I love you
Like I have never loved before
I said dear boy you wouldn’t know true love
If it speared you in your gall bladder
…. and why I am undoubtedly the man of your dreams!”
* Shallow Hal: A 2001 Hollywood Rom-Com in which Hal, a shallow man who only dates attractive women, falls in love with Rosemary, after being hypnotized to see the inner beauty of women, not knowing that she is obese.

VERSE | THE QUIRKS OF WAXING LYRICAL

I thought I’d write a poem today 
For a change, a cheerful one
It seems like my prolific poetry
Is making me the Queen of Glum

It’s not that I don’t see the beauty
The hope and joy that abound
In big and small spaces
In young and old faces
Oh i see it all around!

But I also see life’s glimmer
Fade away, get slowly dimmer
In close and distant places
In fresh and weathered faces
And my own feelings grow grimmer

The angst nudges the bard in me
Unlike any rush of triumph or glee
The words spill out agonised, enraged
In wounded quatrains upon the page
(And I have to say!)
I feel lighter for the venting spree

So I thought I’d write a poem to tell
Whether in fact I am capable
Of verse that won’t assault your tear ducts
Or indeed get your adrenaline up
(What can I say!)
These are the quirks of waxing lyrical

VERSE | ADVIL AND SHEEP

I woke up today, I’d had ten hours of sleep
A mixture of guilt and satisfaction rolled around
In my frontal lobe. Yesterday had been
Another tsunami of sights and sounds
So much activity, so much to process
My neurons had scrambled like spooked racehorses
With a glass of water, I sat still until
I reached in my bag for my bottle of Advil

I finally went to bed, it was 3 am
I had to switch off, I had to get to sleep
I had to be a part of the human condition
I closed my eyes and began counting sheep
I lay in the wakeful throes of identifying
The multicoloured sheep that went flying
Across a rainbow stile that was ten feet high …
Who was I kidding! Wide awake I opened one bright eye

Now when daylight stabs my eyelids with its beams
A cosmic alarm clock to wake up to and be spry
Even as it prods me in the haziness of my dreams
I snooze it three-score times, as I waken by and by
The Advil and the sheep remain my special twins
One bleats its lullabies, the other stills the din
So I go from day to day and from night to night
Sometimes it’s tumultuous, at others it’s alright

VERSE | IN THE ‘EAT OF THE NIGHT

This week I said that I’d be good 
I’d stay off carbs and meat
I’d focus on healthful juices
And on salads. What a treat!

I hope you read the sarcasm
In the verse above this one
Even then, didn’t mean to offend
Tomatoes, lettuce and onions

But the intermittent fasting
From midnight to noon next day
Did me in, up to my chin
Couldn’t keep the carbs at bay!

And so my resolutions of
A healthy body and mind
They just choked, went up in smoke
My force of will became unkind

I ended up inviting in
A thousand extra calories
But dang! I’m quite determined that
Tomorrow I’ll eat only sunflower seeds

So if you feel like you’ve lost
The battle of the bulge
On good days, be resolute
On bad ones, go on and munch.

Let the heart guide you along
The mind is like Cruella*
No one needs a conscience deep
When the belly gods do yell-a!
* Cruella de Vil: a wicked character from Dodie Smith's 1956 novel “The Hundred and One Dalmatians”.

VERSE | YE, CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK!

I carry this thing, it sits on my shoulder
Some call it a chip; I call it my boulder
It gnaws at my insides, it makes for low blows
When I’m swirling around in its treacherous throes

I am sometimes deceitful when I feel its weight
Dignity and grace I cavalierly leave at the gate
If it tells me I’m worth nothing, that I’m wretchedly small
I’ll lash out blindly at one and all

I grew up believing this weight that I hold
Of inflated egos and machismo bold
Is an age old legacy that’s been bestowed
From father to son and from son down below.

With time, it has morphed into an ugly avatar
Sometimes the pricks of conscience are stark
But driven by habit and custom and time
I let my massive chip drag me into the grime

I’m weaving this rhyme when I’m feeling lucid
And can see the chip: festering and putrid
Most times though it pokes me with its manly muscle:
I could murder that person who honked at my Honda Vezel!

And so I go blundering and blustering through life
Ego in one hand; in the other an invisible knife
When my shoulder can’t bear the weight of the chip
I unburden, I plot and I rage. I’m insidious.

VERSE | AARGH! THE WEATHER!

I opened the curtains to the sun peeping through 
Pillowy clouds were floating around - just a few
I stood at the window, the sleep fading away
I smiled - We were going on our seaside trip today!

I packed up my bag, threw in my shorts
A couple of shirts and two pairs of socks
Even by the coast I traipse around in my sneakers
I grinned as I also packed my Bluetooth speaker

I went to the kitchen to make myself tea
Put on the kettle and looked out at the sea
Visible only from that room - the irony!
I giggled - I’d soon be walking on a soft sandy beach

A steaming cup in my hand, I went to my lounge
I watched a pelican as it flew drunkenly around
It had become suddenly overcast and grey
I laughed, it was going to be a nice drive to the bay

And then I went to the loo for a minute or five
I was getting ready, my partner was about to arrive
I came out to a full fledged tropical squall
I guffawed at the tragedy of the “best laid plans” and all!

I closed the curtains, the sun had been snatched up by Zeus
It was noon but he was obviously in one of his moods
I lay down, took a deep breath, closed my eyes
I sighed - The tropical weather gods loved to surprise!

VERSE | THE ART OF TRAINING PRIMITIVE MAN

I walk down the street, my face set so 
The kind that threatens “Back off!” you know ..
Some also call it the Resting Bitch Face
I call it my Psychosocial Can of Mace

I will deny that I’m a lonesome brooder
Heck! I love life’s energy and sizzle
It’s just that as I’ve grown older … and crosser
My Crap Tolerance has all but fizzled

The thing is I now don’t take kindly to
Neanderthal stares when I am about
Eyeballs a-popping, dignity devolving
Seeing Homosapien man driving himself out!

I remember I used to look away before
The caveman crassness too much for me
Now I reward them, with stupendous contortions
Maybe add an unlovely squint or three

Here’s the ruse, these men are obtuse
They’ll only ever shake their tails
To the pretty demure, girl next door
A vibe that so many ladies emanate

So when they see, the prettiness flee
Leaving a facial mass of disturbing stuff
The caveman stands up, evolution catches up
The genteel one can’t look away fast enough!

So the next time, that you feel inclined
To give an avid ogler a fit resprise
Toggle the peeps, bare all your teeth
In a grimace fit for Franken-bride

And that ladies, is why you’ll find me
Walking serenely down the street
Until I’m in a parade, for the Staring Brigade
Then I unleash the power of the squint and the teeth.

(Amen to growing older, madder and wiser! 😉)

VERSE | THE KNOCK KNOCK JOKE WITH A MENTAL TWIST

Written amidst the mind-numbing perils of never ending curfew lockdowns. Read at your own mental risk 🤓

Tak taka tak - Tak Tak
Kaun hai bhai bata ab tak

CHINA!

CHAI NA girana babu
Bari tarpay tarpay tarpay
Meri leg not so halkay halkay

Knock knockity! Knock Knock
Who’s there, before I click back the lock

ZEBRA!

ZE BRA in France is black or white
Practical and just hugging one right
And if you feel the added zeal
Add some colour, like lilac and teal.

Tap ti tap tap - Tap Tap
Who is it? That was a fine rap

LIZARD!

LIZ ‘EARD you call her “mighty stout”
You really put your foot in your mouth!
She may be big but she’s got style
She’ll make you eat your words for a mile

Ding da ding ding- Ding Dong
Who is it? Come sing us a song

RHINO! O-O! O…OOOO!

Mr. RAI, NO we will not do this
Mrs Rai yes it’s all the craze
Rainbow coloured hair for you
And I will go for baby blue

Clap de clap clap - Clap Clap
Who goes there? Who gives my door a thwack?

‘Tis me MAYNA!

MAY NA bhoolonga
MAIN NA bhoolongi
My nemesis is bharta de cauliflower
And mine is garbanzo beans!

Open the door for salvation
Open the door for your soul
Who … who’s there?
‘Tis me your moral sense,
Call me your conscience
No punning, rhyming words here
No weighty equations.
Just you and me and clarity
That’s been lost too long at sea

I’m deaf! I’m deaf! I can’t hear you
Ps. I’ve not seen any clarinet either! (Hehe!)
So the door stays closed, barred and locked
Not opening any windows neither!
Go elsewhere, go where you can be heard
The (h)earless are quite rampant here
Don’t come knockity knocking upon my door
Amd I’ll pretend as if you were never here - dear!

Conscience! Right! Where’s the pun in that!

VERSE| The Happy Ever (Cr)afters

A satirical take on some of the fairy tales we’ve grown up with. Can you guess each of the four Scary Tales? 🤓

You know I kind of hate you 
With your magic and your spells
Always trying to help folks
Always being so swell
My father’s on his own trip
Marrying yet again
I wanted all his attention
Now of my existence you’re the bane
So I’m going to show you up as
The evil step mom in the wings
Going to booze and then I’ll snooze
And await my Prince Charming

I’ll do you better with my step fam
A mother and her progeny!
I curse the day I met them
The entire simpering family!
I’m irked by their sweet faces
These step sisters of mine
Always minding their Ps and Qs,
Dimpling their saccharine smiles.
I’ll raise a big fake scandal
Of their meanness and their pride
Pater will have no choice
But to have them thrown outside.

I’m a bit of a peculiar one
I loved my solitude
Until father brought in New Mom
My lonesomeness to loot
Always laughing, always nice
So gleeful and alive
I’d been cringing night and day
At her effusive vibe
So I plotted insidiously and
By and by got myself out
I now have my own tower
For my tresses and my gout.

You’ve all taken so long to weave
Yourselves into this rhyme
We got rid of our step mom
One bread crumb at a time.
She insisted on healthy food
And also bushels of love
Ugh! No! We wanted none of that
So we arranged for witchy stuff
Old Dame Crone opened her home
To us to live with her
Ice cream and pizza off the doors
In bed, Twix and Ferrero Rocher!

The old wives tales of mean step moms
Are a riot and a half
But we are not complaining; No!
We’re having the last laugh
Princesses and Cinder-gals
We’ve all got our own quirks
And truth be told, we oft unfold
Into audacious jerks
These scary tales are the flip side
Of the happy ever after
Sometimes the cackle that you hear
Is our malificent laughter.

A WordPress.com Website.

Up ↑