An Evening at the Marina Beach

Behind the bleak silhouetted-

line of shops on the beach road of Chennai;

the sun launched its descent,

her true colors leaking behind the landscape,

enticing every artist’s strolling soul,

capturing their wandering feet of desire under her spell.

The warmth stays still,

mesmerized by the tangerine sun

making its way into frames and pages

filling every blanks the color of a faded henna stain.....

https://rhodoramagazine.in/

An Ode to Southern Railways Tea

An ode to the drink we share, I write;
No, not the Starbucks 100 rupee coffee, we never drank
Nor for the bitter CCDs we chose, I write this ode.
But, to that five rupee tea,
on every station of the railway track, you find.........

https://literaryjournal.in/index.php/clri/article/view/386/907

Distance

                         Pic Courtesy : http://www.flickr.com/photos/joel_r/8538713642/lightbox/

You might wonder, why I keep writing you poems 

Day after day,

one after the other.

A belief, word by word,

a sentence would travel the miles,

Unraveling a message of love.............

https://troumagazine.com/2020/08/11/distance-by-j-george/

Letters to You

               Image Courtesy: http://www.flickr.com/photos/47039528@N08/5316903185/


I want to write a hundred plus one letters for you to carry with, as you fly, the other month after the sun rises taking away this lock down and replenishing hope in every country I want you to take these breathings of mine along with you, in case you miss my night cream fragrance of comfrey and niacinamide tickling your nostrils, in case you miss.......

https://issuu.com/humankindzine/docs/issue_one_-_vulnerbility-compressed_compressed_com/100

Video Call

                             PC : http://conflictingheart.tumblr.com/image/46078469794

But, here we are,

exchanging love and words in Morse codes

via smiles and blinks, owing to this poor network,

that swings itself to death, 

with every wind that passes my home,

flushing the bougainvilleas and their

leaves to the floor for me to sweep.

https://issuu.com/initialjournal/docs/the_initial_journal_august_2020 page 6

Heredity

                                  pc : https://www.artandcommerce.com/artists/photographers/Richard-Burbridge/Portraits

 

The way a cracker fires up to the sky, and then blooms into scattered pieces of joy;

Like sprinkling water, is exactly how my father’s hand moves in hopelessness.

He raises his hands upwards, a little higher slowly,

and then throws his fingers from its closed bud, to the air opening up,

“Ohh…Onnulla” (Oh! Nothing) ,...

https://borderlessjournal.com/2020/07/14/heredity/

Pencil Shavings

                           pc : http://thisisnthappiness.com/post/75074331762/zoom-hyper-realism-of-romulo-celdran

Every evening I find the shavings of your eye brow pencil

near the dressing mirror,

along with some talcum on the floor;

Like tiny pleated skirts of dancers on white snow, they stay.

The sharpenings of your pencil, for darkening your eyebrows.

Shreds of oiled skins from frequent touching shed down,

for some newer beginnings with sharper goals.

Each evening before you, your pencil is ready

with the blunt past chiseled and the rawness of the moment ready,

like mother, every day before you with a cup of coffee,

brimming with hope, I believe.

And your willingness to change papa, I see,

you shove the pencil into the darkest spot of the shelf,

after shading those lines to thick eyebrows – a perfect illusion.

http://www.literaryshanghai.com/jgeorge-pencil-shavings/