So many voices

Cascade of words

Flow through my mind.


Others introspections.

Occurring and reoccurring,

Expression’s gravitation,

Dragging willingly,

into literary vortexes.

So many voices craving,

To express experiences,

And their existence;

In this mess.

What a wonderful immersion,

In the cacophony of our race.

Sadness dripping tears.

Beauty in the mundane found.

Anger vented.

Love requited.

Philosophy expounded.

Nature celebrated.

So many minds –





Crying out for recognition,

And understanding.

Just like me…

This poem is a celebration of the brilliant voices I have encountered since coming back to blogging. Exploring other people’s thoughts can be overwhelming! Yet it is also a heartening joy to be surrounded by others who too are; feeling, experiencing and trying to understand their existence. Keep on my fellow creatives, keep on.

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad on

I distrust Valentines Day…

I distrust Valentines Day.
How can one condense their love,
In such a way? 


Rather that you think of me.
Be there for my ups and downs,
On any day.


You noticed I was sad.
So bought a bunch of iris',
& chased my blues away.


Or cooked me a meal.
So we could put the world to rights,
On some idle day. 


If you only show your love,
When society says you must.
Elsewhere please play!


Love's there from the minute, to the decade.
Love is perpetual.
It's not one day. 
Photo by Aaron Burden on

This poem is in response to Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Romance. I originally wrote the below haiku on how I distrust Romance:

Duplicitous lies.
Romance, Desire's mirage!
Have no truck with it.

Yet the poem above is truer to the way I feel about love and Valentines in particular. For me if it’s not there in the tough times as well as the good, its not love. Love is not romance, love is companionship, a connection that supports and weathers any storm. Shakespeare said it best in Sonnet 116…

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.


Poetry Quadrille

Virtual Birthday

T'is my Birthday
And from afar
Friends and Family
Virtually Embrace.

Cannot draw near
as the sickle
of the minuscule
could harm.

Yet Human innovation
Through ether
or postal routes
Allows love's flow.

Feeling blessed
In anxious times
Warmed by sentiments,
all that's kind. 

It really is my Birthday, but was also inspired by the dverse quadrille prompt ’embrace’ – do check them out.

Photo by cottonbro on

Long Shadow Cast

Long shadow cast

Over memory’s archive

Anxious recoil

Approaches unwelcome.


Long shadow cast

making cherished tunes

Weakness reminders

Shame recollected


Long shadow cast

Causing wasted years

Accepting neglect

Casual indifference


Long shadow cast

Distrusting enchantment

Solitude’s safer

Heart fortified

Photo by cottonbro on

Rejection Fears

I fear you won’t say yes,

To my needful request.

So I dare not ask.

As what will I do,

If it’s your view,

To turn from my grasp?


Types of Love

At first I loved

To be loved in return;

And when they didn’t

I became taciturn.

Then I loved

With no hope of return;

A self indulgent

Pointless yearn.

But now I love

Without need of return.

As there’s a purer

Love to learn.

The love we are

Fed by media’s churn.

Is hollow, unreal

And we should spurn.