This is what the clock said
This is what the clock said . What does a clock really say? I mean, besides tick-tock, of course. May I? Or is it more like I may Silently observe or shout myself hoarse, I may bleat or burp or blast Or run or burn or turn Tables upside down or cast A spell or...
The historian
The historian . A few pictures of me as I grew up, remain I allow memory to behave like an app Turning every moment away from disdain Unless I want my present to give me a slap. I create my past from conversation bits Gently brushing away parts I do not like What I complete,...
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...
Learning the grammar of time
Learning the grammar of time Light and dark patches, unreal hues, Merger of reflections, blurring lines of logic, And photo alteration conversations that refuse To end can disorient. But they must. They will. Art is so much like writing or political unrest. Call each poem a revolution, if you must, But it is in an...
Thoughts on the first day of the year
Thoughts on the first day of the year Between clicking the new year parade Or this tree offering all it has, in gratitude I chose the latter, watched its life’s work fade Into, or maybe, merge with the universe. The parade moved on, the crowds walked away And it must now be silent at Trafalgar,...
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...
How many?
Not everyone is bothered about seats There are those who want more memes Or must know the increase in fringe beats. Losers would count malignant dreams. How many is more than just a chant That will dominate telly screens today Some will cry and others will rant But numbers will have the final say. EVMs...
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...
