Surroundings-33
Cycling Maids-quatrain-six worded each line
So are the changed maids too.
No more unkempt and clothed creased
But fast cycling in national costume
Chudidhar-maids like A-one professionals
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Alankar(Decor) -84
Salt-(Cinquo)
The Cinquo is a half Crapsey Cinquain.
The Cinquo is:
a poem in 5 lines.
syllabic,1-2-3-4-1 syllables per line.
unrhymed.
Salt
To taste
Eat or spit
Life's bittersweet
Ought
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Alankar(Decor) -38
Thoughts(Waltz Wave)
Waves
Waving
Tides
Rising
Breezy hiss
Bewitched
Sinks
Immixed
Azur ed puffs
Zealously zoom
Stars hover
Fishing
Hunt
Soaring
[...] Read more
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Traffic Signal
Overtaken over run
Hurt tresspassed
The brother-roads conspire
In the big pits of their hearts
Polling a colourful jury
Of green, amber, red
From the height of justice
To command right-of-ways
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Smile Infantile
Flash of the Heaven's fulgency
Splashed in a wink's frequency
On a new-born with divine adequacy
Embraceable ambrosia of the Gods
Gifted to the cherubic nascence
By way of blessing its parents
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Along A Running Train
Trailing thunders in a swipe..
Hundreds chatting, hundreds eating
Within the boundary of my running
Along each count of a bogie..
Next sec
Racing brain mutes like a yogi
Standing still to realise
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Alankar(Decor) -100
Poetry(Tetrastich)
The term tetrastich infers a stand alone poem of four lines but the term is rarely used.
Poetry
A house of words
Of thoughts and feels-
Poets stock endless
Poems live ageless
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Season-9
Social norm here
All twelve months on festive spree
With rituals lot
Prayers primary
Along with offering next
Traditional treat
Discount sale common
Season's festive gift offer
People throng crazy
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Madras Marina
Man-made one here..
Samples of humans statued
Ruling over all ages sundry
On a scattered, cluttered feast
Every grain of sand
Filling the ocean with soiled tears..
Even the Mahathma
Helpless to help
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Prose Poetics-4
Can a White saree
Clear the sorrow
For the lost husband?
I shouted at my
Maid's son
For the stupid custom
Only the son
Should retaliate
For his mother
My maid now sparkles
Colourful
Rainbow-clad
poem by Indira Renganathan
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