Be still
Be still Some days when stillness stays And reflections whisper what is A lonesome brown leaf softly says I can touch the clouds and kiss. . . . . Arvind Passey 15 January 2020
The new battlefield
The new battlefield . This isn’t how it can be done. This will never bridge a gap. This will only sting and stun. This fidgets on my lap. That isn’t right I’d say. That isn’t bright as well. That deserves only a nay. That doesn’t ring a bell. I’ve heard them all for many times...
Lost on Twitter
Judgements are swift Lynchings merciless Ganging-up a norm Pellets and stones everywhere Appeals buried under Rushing words and more words Designed to serve Notions Not convictions. Lines of control blur As logic and illogical interests Prick each other On a battlefield that doesn’t even know If it exists. Friendships dissolve In nano seconds Enemies emerge...
I will forget you too
1. You stepped away like a blink That happens between what remains and what disappears, Like the curtain of haze in the cortex Of an alzheimer-soaked mind, Like an unread page in a thriller. You assumed I will forget you too… I am determination and I’m here to kill your misconceptions. 2. I am a...
You turn and a realization dawns
Most of the time eyes think They see and only then you think But thoughts can paint Whatever they want And eyes just believe and reflect. The face isn’t a canvas But a mixing plate Where colours are the bosses Strutting around imperiously Effectively concealing Their uncertainties. Everything, including twitches Blinks, jerks, and impassive facades...
As I think about the environment
All around me Are writers and speakers Tearing words apart Pairing them Ordering them Mostly running after them Without knowing why Without understanding The truth inside the world of words. Users of words Remain under duress In a somewhat vocal way. Every word Lives multiple lives Not getting stressed at all And carries inside itself...
The day after birthday is the day for poetry
The newest always is the best Vintage can be happy though At sixty two I write and rest And never feel really low. Wishes are in hundreds now Social media just makes sure Each wish reduces age and wow For growing age is a lasting cure! . . . . . . Arvind PasseyWritten on...
Hear me out, cancer cells
It’s the job of cancer cells to multiply I grant them their rightful high It’s their job to inflict pain I grant them this, though with disdain. But let the mind remain fighting fit Don’t let our thoughts be torpedoed, hit Cancer cells, spare the mind And we’ll weed you out bit by bit. ....
The secrets we keep
Writers love the word why As they know very well that Life without secrets is a lie Readers like pages that reveal The strange and the unknown One by one, like onions to peel And tales that wear mystery Like a shawl or even a mask Carry with them the secret key That one mind...
Even God must be in love with thrillers
Those times when the heart Does the hop, skip, and jump Over chasms where the possibility Includes lava flowing incessantly But there isn’t a single clue around No hisses, no fumes, no heat waves Not even birds giving the game away By their indecision and silence. It is as if God was reading a thriller...
On Reading
A whisper-laden stroll Adrenalin push in the dark Conversation with a mole Flying kiss for a lark… Reading is more than this And those who give it a miss Wouldn’t know that infinity Is a word-filled city! . . . . . . Arvind PasseyWritten on 25 April 2019
The mind is an astronaut in space
Deep within me there are no boundaries.No cacophony of walls are ever built here.No barbed wires separate a smileFrom a caress. Or love from fear.There are no marching bandsNothing here will beat retreats.Heavy boots with nailed solesAren’t ordered to create reverberating treatsThat give birth to tsunamis of emotionsEnding with a blitz of applauding commotions. A...
