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. ....
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...
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...
Between the shadow and the soul
I have taken the title for this review from a line written by Pablo Neruda: ‘I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.’ Poetry is positioned precariously between all that is subjective and what is objective, the expressive and the expressed, or cocooned between...
