Category Archives: Poetry

Case history


Model : Priyanka

Contrary to what you may believe

or give examples of me so cool and free,

in actuality is, objectively putting

unharvested anxiety and brain acid oozing

like branches of a tree.


Hours never enough, works left undone

imagination and will running in their own spree,

brilliance caged, at a place of no outlet

no substance, not even context to disagree.


Interiors convulsing, entangled

ideas breeding like a crazed queen bee,

negotiating with the passions , mellow down

to bring forward only the decent, that’s a guarantee.



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Greetings from the couch


Model : Piya

A short , or a longer phase of me

being ….out of service, is pathetically

dangerous, I tell you.

Although I strongly believe travel gives

perspective for some fresh writing,

but the baggage of vacation is

no fun!


Packing, rush, the rigmarole of delays and crammed

seats, un needed trashy buffets

frenzy of holidaying people, silly purchases

sad pillows at the B & B s,  sadder staff, I

return with loads of laundry.

Perspective , anyone?


Act positive, I KNOW!

Rearrange my cushions, get back into position of

that right comfort, let in the flow, perhaps

a stronger round of coffee, fresh memories

of the orange sunset, chirping birds, corncobs

revel till done.


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Brain workout


To pastures new James Guthrie 1882

Some days I write blog posts,

………and some days are spend

mulling over my artist friend’s vacant canvas

or another’s tea n tattoo fetish,

worry about the one who is stuck with a manuscript,

turmoil with her characters’ dark persona

or the one who’s busy seducing her man,

she wants a baby girl.


Don’t get me wrong, It is rather exciting to

have a brain workout with friends’ issues,

than my own, beaten twisted struggles.


This was a friendspiration week. No regrets!

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tyModelInTheArtistsStudio 001

“The Artist’s Studio” by Tatjana Jablonskaja


Pauses in the studio, are

different to other kind of pauses

contemplative, thoughtful , long or

short bouts of reflection.


stretch those limbs for renewed energy

grace the mind to dream a life

heart fluffed with new passion

a chosen separation to refine the soul.


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I used to be nice

now I don’t see a reason

to scrape and bruise myself.

                                                             Haiku by Shal

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Brew up a kiss


I’ve given you enough warning

I’m not a great person to love, with

My shall-we-have-tea-first temper

It’s a destroyer? Me –thinks not.


I’m not just lips, and skin and poems

I’m a mansion, almost an abode

I’ll take you to galleries and sad movies

Kiss you in front of Gustav’s spot.


At times fresh pecks in bird-chirpy gardens

 caresses oft’ musty libraries & monuments

The smells you will gather in the recesses

Of your cortex, will keep you hot.


Pillager yes. Like a storm, inflamed

plunging berries soaked in soil inseparable

Exhilarating though, Leave you an earthy &  emotional

Toil, stains that do not blot.


Gustav Klimt, The Kiss , 1908–1909

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In search of stones

Explains Joseph Campbell

‘If the path before you is clear,

You’re probably on someone else’s.’

The dignified , and rich with experience

world, offers you a compatible life;

you subdue a gnawing

hunger for chaos, for non

conformity, you feel

suffering in just being.


You will flip, he says

You will feel incongruity.

You will venture into a realm

Of danger, creativity, in a quest for

Bliss, which is yours, there Is no strife.

The search for life you start, in the

 darkness of creative pleasure,

endure its pain and torture; love

and hate through your art.


you have intensity, you embrace

discomfort, marvel at your adventures.

You will experience the trials, and loss

Gain inspiration, and traverse that path

That’s yours, dignified, and rich from learning

Towards a compatible life.


Watercolour : Stanislav Holota


Filed under Latest Story, Poetry



Original watercolour : Stanislav Holota

Lack of order they say

Gradual decline,

It is the opposite of creative endeavor;

 I see it as a sign.


Seeds degenerating and sprouting

Into little radicle seedling,

The random little stem finding its way

towards the sun and smiling.


Or animal matter decaying

And providing healthy dung,

Stinking organic life, paving

For new life to be sprung.


The smaller minds and their karmas

The larger with attached chaos,

Sincere thoughts amidst

Incessant fake pathos.

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Hang out

Derick and I

we hang out, like

a lot.

we are a little alike

as friend are,

we enjoy people watching

at the café, sit catlike

we love our cosy creamy skin

narcissts by faar,

most of all, we love being alone

together, like

a lot.




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Filed under Latest Story, Poetry, Silly

Wild flower


Grow like a wild flower

In all the places where

You wouldn’t think

Anything grows;


Climb  unknown buildings,

Little paths , In abandon

Through cracks

Untamed, yet

Easily broken


Blooming, shying

Just sprouting impulsive

No petals or thorns

Only pure



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