A Thought in Syntax


Will there be a structure here

Or will I look for trickery

I looked at my old writing today

Syntaxes don’t match the meaning of my

Broken thought                 crashing               crashing through my eyes

And then slowly this light fades                 into reflections

My precious mind remembers the days of youthful bliss

When ignorance was embraced like a lover’s molten touch


At length I find that my count fails

I become a prisoner to my

unfaithful words a caged bird it remains

is this a tool or a jail holding onto

my hateful past only to gray my future dreams

this mind it reels this hand goes cold each word now feels like

an old ghost meandering through my mind’s endless mirror

Grandma’s Green Garden

grandma's green garden.jpg

It smelt of green grass and lemon trees

But my grandma’s garden was best known for its jackfruit

Molten candy melts

The tiny yellow piece was squished inside the travails of my mouth

Every flavor of lush green Kerala sacrificed

On the altar of my palette

In the beauty of the springtime

Comes this dream of the green thorns housing my squishy molten yellow childhood!



I don’t smile at strangers

For I will be called easy

I don’t dance in public

For the fear of being sleazy

I wear make-up but not too much

For I am not a whore

I walk alone but not always

For then I’d be cold

I look away when they stare

For it’s their birth right

I never walk in shadows

For that means I’m aching for a fight

I fight but don’t resist

For you have to pick your battles

I wait for my moment but don’t wait too long

For while the pain is bad; my wrath will be worse