Ripe Tomatoes And The Mind

Make me a tomato
not potato —
that,
I may ripen.
Bulging with such
juicy juice.

This world is mean.
It will bite,
into you
if you are a juicy fruit.
Potato is a
much safer
proposition.

I shall ripen in the mind.
Juicy bodies
people bite
into like barbarians.
I shall ripen in the mind.

It is,
and will always be,
wholly mine.
I shall ripen
in the mind.

A Letter To My Boss

Give to me a steady stream
Give to me your words I pray
Take me to a place of joy
Tell me what you have to say.

So we rest, all three of us
You and me and readers too
In a place of fulfillment
Give your words a-ringing true.

Sing your song, take me along
Here — I offer me to you
Let your song live on and on
Let your song take me to you


Who is your boss? Would you like to write a letter to him, in prose or poetry, and share in the comments below?

A Letter To Separation

Dear Separation,
you have filled my heart
with a glow,
a subtle saffron sliver
on my tongue…
How might it be
if he were here?
I do not know.

Dear Separation,
I swim in you.
A moment fresh
as lime, then —
a teal damp
peaceful pain…
How might it be
if he were here?
I do not know.

Dear Separation,
you ascend in me
a moment screaming
you descend in me
with lingered chirping…
How might it be
if he were here?
I do not know.

In the whir of silence,
Separation,
you are the ground
on which I meet,
I dwell in him —
a moment unrelenting cement
then alive mysterious wood
another shimmering as paper…
Separation,
you are my song.

How might it be
if he were here?
I do not know.


Image credit: Quiyang at Pixabay.com

I did not pray for your good health

When a loved one is unwell and far away, and we are clueless of what he/she is going through, unable to be of any help –


I did not pray
For your good health,
I prayed that I experience
What you’re going through.
Just so I know.
Just so that I can
Be with you.

I want to hurt
Where it is
Hurting you –
Same spot, intensity.
Just so I know.
Just so that in the knowing
I can be with you.

I did not pray
For your good health.
Pain is so innate to life
Why should I pray
That you be bereft.
I pray to experience
It with you
Just so I know
What is going on with you.

I did not pray
For your good health.
I am too busy
Loving you.

Now A Tiger

Long was the winding queue,
In it standing was an urchin –
Empty mind an’ empty tummy
Waiting for his lowly luncheon.

Mind nibbling empty mind,
Tummy pinching at the tummy,
And our urchin in the heat
Standing for a morsel grummy.

Suddenly a lighting bolt
Struck our little hapless lad –
Suddenly he ran away
Leaving people standing sad.

How he ran and ran and ran –
Now alone he was a-searchin,
“I will wait in queue no more.
I will find my own,” said urchin.

Now our lad is roaming wild
In the forest day and night
Now our lad is no more urchin
He is tiger of some might.

Has he found what he was searchin?
I don’t know. He is so wild!
For to know his story, shoot
RFID is his hide.

If you want to know a tiger
Sir, you too hafta be wild.
Urchin missin from the queue –
Born a tiger, urchin died.

tiger-1690868_1920

The Lure Of Cacophony

What’s here is now invisible
I search for life on internet.
In this room and in this house,
In this city I find nothing.
For meaning I go to internet.

To cacophonous thoughts that are
More cacophonous than my mind
I gravitate ―
To find an end to loneliness,
I turn towards the internet.

To a hall of blathering
Again again compulsively, I go.
Facebook is this gathering
Of brains turning to soggy mush —
This is now the internet.

Not all is such. There’s
Humans of New York and humor
Refreshing me and telling me
That we are One.

What’s all around
The joy and peace that still abound,
Is invisible…
For power that is wholly mine,
Do I need the internet?

~ vani murarka

Nourished, Even By His Absence

I love missing you. It’s such a tasty, wholesome experience.
Like eating a banana.

Missing you is juicy with a devious prick…
Like biting into a slice of pineapple.

I love missing you — like eating mangoes when they aren’t there.
Sucking on cherished moments, each subtle feeling.

At times, missing you is tasteless with a slight distaste.
Akin to Kale, it fills me with energy.

I love missing you with ease.
Just as water flows into my mouth, down the throat, with ease.

I love missing you when I’m not even aware, that I am missing you.
Just as I breathe. Missing you is my life.

And then suddenly, I am aware — that I am missing you.
And suddenly I’m that much more — alive!