I have been a teacher for about four decades ,but even more than that , a student and learner all along --literature being my favourite subject with special love for poetry , a trait I seem to have inherited from my father,who was a very good poet ,it was he that instilled in me a deep love for poetry early in childhood . Starting as a science student ,I shifted to literature after graduation and and worked on Emily Dickinson's poetry for Doctoral degree. I don't claim to be a poet ,but do admit my inherent love for poetic utterances as and when I find them and sometimes feel inspired to give vent to my own emotions in words that seem to convey them .Honestly it happens quite effortlessly and also leaves me with an immense satisfaction .If it can be termed poetry ,all the more rewarding. .
You walk on burning embers like a black stone to meet the end before beginning on empty landscape. What was the need to cross a saviour? Death had the wedding anniversary in a garden – full of blessings for the
let it be yourself, the brightest of the sunshine that will become, survive, fair to friends and foes, the one and all,sharing the same world. in time of the disaster, the mind for good and the assistance, the nobility of
As I stride with the side wind she lifts me, her shadow will catch me when I lose control. I am without doubt and incomplete reverse and form, I stand and watch a damp paper page squelched between two rocks,
Fahrenheit mid twenties on dole skint Saturdays bordered in black and white diamond linoleum. Lost in days. I acridly observe the English countryside on a coffee table pamphlet. My minds unbridled in those munching country lanes. But sometimes it’s Lost,
Well and was this another seal broken As the Pacific Ocean came crashing Down over the red rising sun… You stumble around on shaking Grounds…so much disaster and Destruction, you wonder what else Is to come as the night sets