Author Archives: montecyril

Count the stars in the skies  as my wounds. The blue of  the universe may just be my blood  I keep the tears away or else  they may just create a flood;  We don’t need all that water  We just need the salt, to remind  us of the stuff that we came from  Yet, this anguish hasContinue reading “I count the stars in my skies…: A poem “

I remember that slow traffic,  and the chaos, mounted by irritation  and frustration. Of course, that belief  in enigmatic Karma brings patience,  even when the guns of aliens took  the seven islands and called them Bombaim;  You can see the subsequent misappropriation  of property belonging to someone else,  to become someone else’s dowry   Were you just a dowager without entitlements  as you wereContinue reading “I always remain myself, through weathers of eternity: A poem “

This bullseye look spreadeagled all over  like a quantum vision of being beyond one being,  calling out time to exhibit its vulnerability  and thus, consigning it to a dissolution  and bankruptcy. Even shaking the stars off  their ordained organisation, into a commotion  that renders a unique motion! Like snapping   the comatose subsistence of leaves devoted   to their seasons. The clocks, so charged and   shocked, that their springs and screwsContinue reading “Janissary: A poem “

Mother can I cling to memories, at will,  like a book flipping to a page, that one  wants to read most, summarising the  prologue and epilogue? Would you feel   the grief of a one-page tome torn into  a humongous tatter of sheafs that can   no longer be comprehensible to what was  the primary entity that dropped a little iota of ink. Continue reading “Mother, you know, this love, this eternity, should only come to a point: A poem  “

Was the father of a religion Abram or Abraham?  He travelled through three lands, starting from Ur  where the tall ziggurats all seemed like death  when he had to make his sacrifice at the altar  that his son should be taken, for proof of loyalty  I am no God who asks for the blood of your sons  It was never me whoContinue reading “Sarah, did you follow my footmarks, or did I yours?: A poem “

I don’t know if my sisters ever did care for originals.  How long did they seek tactility with an imposter?!  Or did anyone else that I sought the loyalty of?  How did I belong, when belonging became an adversary?  Is something sure once it gets started? Would you ever fathom  that it can be an exposure to evil beyond a point –  A pointContinue reading “I remember my own face of grace!: A poem “

I was never an oyster or a cloister of a nun to my Sun;   It was the deep sea that always had me undone!  And its stalwart, Prakash Sant Paul, the bodygrabbing of a gall;  He is a culture that is even an insult to an ever-feeding vulture  Did he not spun his web with his cunn(ing) and steal my Sun?!  I had to, dueContinue reading “I was never a shun of a nun to my Sun!: A poem “