Vultures Around

he vultures that wish to nibble
The crumbs of my plight.
I wish once again
Neither to prove them wrong
Nor myself right.
For I know that I must
Let success speak through my might.

Micropoetry: The Wait is Over

Time flies, I would say.
Cuddles, and not Calls today;
My Princess comes back.

© Suyog Ketkar


Amidst the bidders, for whom Spoken words make the market, I resort to words unspoken To be the voice of my own. Survived, I have Through nights and days. To survive within each moment, I call upon my soul. Witnessing two reflections, Having faith in faith, I Echo with the right one To shatter the illusory mirror. Floating in the quietude, I lay in pleasurable languor, Flashing mysterious memories. The

Change of Seasons

The chirping of birds, Who, at the Mango tree, Celebrate the Change of seasons, Welcoming the days of glory Bidding the days of grim. The drumming noise, tapping on Your windows, epilogues the Change of seasons, And Highlights the crow feet on your face, That once were ironed out, Filling you in joy to the brim. The last leaf, dry, falling, Which once prompted the Change of seasons, now Sits

Micropoetry: Lullabies

Lullabies flew like water from eyes. Cries were for the Ward, Not for toys. ©Suyog Ketkar Senryū is a form of micropoetry that contains 17 or lesser syllables spread across not more than three lines. Although this attempt isn’t driven by humor, Senryu mostly is used to describe the human aspect on a lighter note.

Life is Black and White

Sans the haunting howls of ballads,
Sans the riddling verse in charades,
Sans the humming songs of an escapade,
After all, Life is Black and White.

A Cure Within

With a depressed soul Enjoying the indifference of nothing; The repressed feelings spurted; And an inconsolable self – laid silent, I rode the turbulent tides within. Milestones guiding to hell, A clueless tread to an unexplored trail, Each turn bringing to self, And no one, but myself to help. Priced for being good, this tiny self did fear, A cost that was way more than I could bear. A bright

I am Your Echo

I have this to say to my parents and gurus: Flowing through the air are the glowing ashes of my smoldering. If the smolders of karma be my destiny, then I am your echo. … Singing through the dark woods are the verses of this destiny. To make this song of life melodious, I am your echo. … Dancing before my eyes are the glories of tomorrow, If I am


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