Author Archives: montecyril

I wake up to the early morning breezes  My thoughts paint my walls like friezes  And a child’s innocent garden of wonder yields  From life’s bitter ironies, this armour shields   My euphoria is vapour on the windows of my lounge  In the shanties of adversity, laughter rises from my ground  To hope for only aContinue reading “If grief comes to me…: A poem “

I laughed at his desperation  though the blood went cold in my veins  I was unable to bid for insurrection  I was all locked up in chains  Greed and selfishness go in vain  in the ambushed meadows of the slain  I could have shot him, but shot the other one  Madness is a method whenContinue reading “Tomorrow, in the Ark: A poem “

Summer is gone. Even its shadows don’t remain  Its heated squares have dissipated in the gardens,  where the daffodils will sprout in the cold  I feel a deep glow, as round as the moon  in the cocoon I have salivated for myself  I will have nothing else, no matrimony with cant.  This waiting within walls,Continue reading “Salivating for paradise: A poem “

I live in a rented apartment; it is my castle  A bookcase and a laptop, space is a tussle  In the little kitchen, the pressure cooker’s whistle  There’s not much in the wallet for my daily hustle  I have a creaky couch and a television in the lounge  Even if my means are low, IContinue reading “Ink in the thank-tank: A poem “

If we had the philosophy of ants,  would we have too much on our hands?  Would we walk foot-naked on instincts’ sands  and hear their compelling orchestra’s strands?  If we were duty-bound like ants,  would we ceaselessly till our lands?  Would we ever wonder how flowers stand  and admire the rich rainbow’s bands?  Ants haveContinue reading “The philosophy of ants: A poem “

He is neon, evil’s add-on  Camouflaged in rayon  Roots craving more than water  Clawing at/depriving the potter  The ashes on the rug  of a man with the bug  Unctuous like a slug   Mugging like a thug  His stake is on heaven  A victory for nine and seven  The citadels he has stolen  Flowers lost ofContinue reading “The light man: A poem “

I feel sore to say that love can be conditional  It can be brokered over the bridge to the other side  It has compromises, like a farmer selling his   favourite sheep for money. It is golden for innocents  who don’t know it, but feel it; until the world opens up  And passion is aContinue reading “All about love: A poem “

I hear the mountains crumbling like a destitute in a storm  The night looms like an upturned ocean of citadels lost to con  Cold winds of tyranny slice humanity’s gorges before good is born  Those that live in wealth’s lodges aren’t aware their luxury is porn   There is no silent revolution, no army to fight forContinue reading “It’s close to midnight: A poem “

I feel the distance at the nearness of the crowd  Can it be hated with vehemence, and hated aloud?  The trams spill with anxiety, panic fuels the wheels  This lunge for survival, as if hippos were on our heels  The Schrodinger’s cat in us is both alive and dead  What is given to us isContinue reading “Caught in traffic jams: A poem “

The wind sweeps the agile shoreline streets  The tide reverberates, then hastily retreats  A seagull dives, then quickly self-assuredly climbs  A broken shell’s beauty is on my shapeless mind  A motionless boat’s sail pricks the placid horizon  All speed is relative to distance and to the sun  I watch the clouds hang low in theContinue reading “Fragile wonder: A poem “