Tuesday, January 5, 2010


This first drizzle of winter

Drops of crystal descend

merge with the street

to become this stubborn slush


on the tattered phanek

of the widowed valley

This mist of winter

Blinded by whiteness

The white cold seep through

From the bed of tarmac

Into the vagabond’s soul

A clueless poet

Tainted with love for verse

Heartbreak became a poem of winter

Gnawing through bones

Each word hang heavy

Like the bulky winters’ torn fabrics

http://soibamharipriya.blogspot.com ©


  1. I am not into poetry. To be honest, the only reason I read your blog on 'google reader' (do not know why it suggested me your name) is the pictures that you put in there, and more so the 'such good captions' you gave them.

    But now, after reading your stuff, I feel I might be into poetry afterall. Trying to figure out if its just a one time affair, or a long term relationship.

  2. Its been a decade or so now.. As long as words doensn't deny me its beauty and sorrow ... I hope to continue