Thursday, December 14, 2017

Winter Solstice

Night, a lightning.   Shovel hitting the frosty
ground. Splintering crystals into thousand mirrors.  

My eyes squint,
heavy laced with ice
searching for color  
above the walkway
laden of diamond drops-
No, No!
I am a prey 
caught in frozen web-

The moon crackles.  Crescent above skeletal   
trees.   Scattering faint its nebulous light.  

My hands are so cold   
motionless, dead leaves
Push, push
back the black tides
engulfing, surging
my lungs  
the guilty weight is an illusion
Breathe, breathe

The sun crows. Wearing pink & peach shades.
My eyes mist that I made it through long long night.

~0~0~0~0~  ~0~0~0~0~

And finally, our dVerse Anthology is available !   Enjoy the journey of more than 100 poets at Amazon, North America or Amazon, Europe.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.   We are going for a break at the poetry pub for 2 weeks.   

Wishing you all Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays !!!!  ~0~0~0~0~

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Winter's breath

Winter lands in the city
with stiff dove's wings  

It slides under the cars &
creates a whirl of grey clouds

It blankets, spiraling over
fences & roofs, erasing paths & grime

Getting into the groove quickly,
licking every bare tree & fallen leaf with silence

Taking its time
as if the world is flaring, silvery canvas

But its a chameleon
turning clear roads to slippery ice

Some nights, its a vulture
knifing homeless & lost souls on cold streets- 

We fret, with no sunshine
to needle our eyes to light & motion

Forgetting colors & spring flowers
We get intimate with death, melancholia 

& pinched nerves, enveloping our words-
pink, furrowed with blue salt-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics hosted by Lillian ~ Theme is "groove".  
I slipped on the ice last night & fell on my side, while shoveling so I am feeling a bit cautious.  Thank goodness, no broken bones or bruises.  I have forgotten how slippery the ground ice can be.

Thursday, December 7, 2017


we walked on eggshells
around his supersized ego-
giving him pass for his lewd-
ness and foxy behavior

it was our season of sickness,
         rut and rust
we were pawns
in his checkered games-

until 1 woman finds her 
          earth and iron
speaks up
breaks the silence
of gated mountains,
finds a chorus of women


to build a bridge 
over the deep rivers- 


Posted for dVerse Poets pub - Meeting the Bar:  Symbolism, hosted by Victoria C. Slotto. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   

A tribute to all the Silence Breakers, Person of the Year by Time 2017.

Monday, December 4, 2017

push that button!

snow flurries 
                  tumbled on roof, 
caking windows in 
                  light frost 
dawn comes with blanket, soft, 

i dash through oatmeal 
                  with my lunch bag 
insert (time to reflect) 
                  poetry along train stops-
scribbling waylaid verses
                  pickled new
roping flow & rhythm- 
                  it's crunch time!

Posted for dVerse Poets - Quadrille -44 word post with the word, CRUNCH.  
Hosted by De Jackson.  Join us when the pub door opens at 3pm. 
I need deadlines to write and work on my personal projects.   Thanks for the visit.

Thursday, November 30, 2017

hiccups along the trail

she sits
                    on the margins
                    of herself


                    to creak of wrist bones
                    to beat knuckling her knees

                                       whispered wants of her tongue
                                       pearl studs of dancing shoes


                    simmering thoughts in teapot
                    and letting it steep

                                         through her  s k i n
                                         along    s p i n e

                    trail of veins   
                    between lungs of doubts   

                    finally, it's time   

to build a house
of her belongings                    


Posted for dVerse OpenLinkNight, where I am hosting, starting at 3pm EST.   
This poem was inspired from reading David Whyte's House of Belonging
Thanks for the visit.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

3 stitches of change


my wings are shy
blooming rust as sky
change is the wind 
whizzing under my feet-
i must jump & glide
or die-


first snow-
flake upon pine cones-
shadows grow, a bracelet
of wires on changing sky


sound of train is patience
as i gave him
my free Tim Horton's coffee card-
he stopped his guitar singing and
tucked it carefully
in his inner jacket-
his wide smile changed his face
& mine- 

Posted for dVerse Poetics- Change - Hosted by Paul Scribbles ~   Pub door opens at 3pm EST.  Thanks for joining us.

Thursday, November 23, 2017

jellybeans with jazz

it starts breezy
your fingers slick, tingling
on guitar strings
murmur of leaves, falling  

then sharp stab
slurping my skin, milk-moon 
soft, honey-gold
& buttering my eyes
fringe of blue clouds

slam, slam, pour, pour
your ferocious heartbeats-
turn us to mindless waves
ride in - music -

we swish, rolling rhythm
pedals churning-
gathering us to heaven
gates, let's implode (again)-

Posted for dVerse poets Pub -  Jazz poetry with a lovely guest blogger, Amaya.  Come and join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit ~ 

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

the bird underneath my winter coat

she is light as feather 
on the train, we're matching sweaters
but in my office, we're opposites 
as i pour over my sheets
she is leaning out of glass window
steeled by balconies, her flamingo
skin quivering among boxed flowers & fake grapes- 
her eyes far away, smitten with the lake-

there are city pigeons & gulls 
feeding near the trash bins, but her pulse
is untutored rhyme so she stays away
from gossips around the water cooler-
her sighs are blighted poetry 
scribbled hurriedly on paper napkins 

she leads a secret life,  
craving for sweet berries & a slice 
of honeycomb or mushrooms-
her screams are echoes 
of raindrops until 
every evening, i return home 

where i preen her wings
and we dance and swing  
to wild song of the wind
to hoots of night creatures
until finally
my chord hits a nightingale's note
she's a songstress in velveteen- 

Posted for dVerse poets Pub- Hosted by Kim Russell.  Inspired by the poem, The Heavy Bear who Walks with Me.  The challenge is to write a poem, of any length or form, about an animal in a human way or a human in an animal way, highlighting some trait of the animal/human that either sets us apart or brings us together – it’s up to you, just as long as the poem is new.

Monday, November 20, 2017


it's pink pebble
on palm of frothy shore

ringed by remnants
of corals, shells, dead starfish 

above, sun splashes blue sky
oblivious to the quarrels of birds

palm trees flick 
buzzing wings glinting of jewels

under striped umbrella,
snoring waves rock me to daydream  

Posted for dVerse poets pub - Quadrille  Hosted by Mish- 44 word post including the selected word, ROCK.   It's actually cold and chilly where I am right now.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

November collections

I collect words
    they smell of coconut oil and thyme

I soak them in water
    warm as silent ocean, soft as clouds

Some of them swim to the
    blue map, ringing of certainty

But some of them gnaw 
    on my insides, growing eyes

Lidded with petals & loops
    raising questions & veins of wants

I breathe the tissue of my darkness    
    reeling in/out of my every heartbeat 

Come out of my mouth 
    before the year grows old with snow-

Posted for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Toni (Kanzensakura)  ~  A second offering for Lillian's prompt.   hanks for your visit.

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

at the streetville of flowers

they came with mops, brooms, 
   buckets on streets,
and swept off the beggars,
   homeless, clueless
addicts slumped on my feet-
   cruising between

my arms, spray-painted by  
   electric green
and psychedelic orange-
   my head, turban
of colorful stories-
   erased to white-  

i'm restored melody
   flowing breezy-
i'm saving grace among 
   eyesores & punks-
i flow as flowers do 
   flowering to the sky

shimmering false-blue hues-
   stop!  it's bleached!
the whole city is tangle
  of rotting bones 
coated with fresh garden air
  for VIP guests

so I stand still
  dreaming of sunflowers
buzzing of insects- 
  collecting rain in pockets-
my nose runny 
  with smog by whizzing cars 


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Street Art or Culture, Hosted by Lillian ~  This is theme: I’ve posted five examples of street art for folks and ask them to pick one and somehow write about it. Images in public domain at Only requirement is that folks post the accompanying image.

Monday, November 13, 2017

the long mo(u)rning

My mom comes to visit the graveyard to say her prayers.  The early November crowds have gone, and the solemnity has returned to the cemetery.  Her lips and fingers move around the rosary beads with ease.   As always, her eyes water as she sees my father's etched name on the grey plate. How each letter glitters like tiger's eyes under the dying sunset.  Though she has dedicated masses and special intentions, she wonders if he is at peace at last.   Is he still suffering or has he finally reunited with our Lord? Every night, she prays for a sign, message or a dream of my father's after-life journey.     Over the phone, I listen to her crying and questions.  I have no answers.                

snowy owl hoots
behind trees & carpet of leaves-
night is silent, starless-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Haibun Monday, hosted by Victoria Slotto.  The theme is to
write about Fukuroo – the Owl. Owl is a winter kigo but you can write about any season. Please keep the prose to under 200 words. 

Thursday, November 9, 2017

jamming to strawberries fields forever

your skin
is sun-dimpled  
luscious silk that
dipped in petticoats
of cream
or chocolate
or brandy
becomes honeycomb
of sweetness 

i hear you
rinsing under water,
paring green leaves,
& quartering your heart
to vanilla-shaped florets-
readying your
siren song-
we turn to grinning fools
with butterfingers   

tell me,
when the full moon
rises, what will
we do with all this 
stuck in our mouths-
red, of the purest kiss 

Picture credit:  here

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar hosted by Frank Hubeny ~  Today we are writing about ODES (Poems of praise).     Pub doors open at 3 pm EST.   

Monday, November 6, 2017

Plastic cups of empty

city is
hard-wired to noise-
music, car tires spitting

between streetlights-
most trees are half-dressed
in orange pleats with rust-brown twigs

i listen
to last kick of leaves
hitting rain-puddled steps-

it echoes 
along with 
guitar's strings of busker, filling
our cups
of solitude

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson ~  This is a 44 word post with the word KICK.   Join us when the pub door opens by 3 pm EST.

Thursday, November 2, 2017


the wind is blade
of ice, cutting through the skin-
November sky is wrinkled  
in steel- blue fur & grey scarf-
the fallen leaves dot
streets in golden light & fading ink-

in the yellow-domed cathedral
the people light candles for the dead
and bring fresh flowers & rain-
soaked mourning cards
for some, the memories of departed souls
is a fleeting strain of music
light as whiff of red roses

for others, grief is heavy as winter boots 
pounding the cobbled stones
searching for signs
to go somewhere, anywhere
but this void, festering wound
slowly turning the bones to stone

i wait for sunsets
magnificent light show 
of bleeding purple, 
bristling orange & raunchy scarlet ribbons, 
thick with wild-eyed ardor
for life, ever unfolding-     

For dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - The pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visit.

Monday, October 30, 2017

petals of kindness

The city can harden your heart due to the toil of everyday labor and from beggars who make begging their job.   So when I witness acts of kindness from total strangers in the subway train, like giving up their seats for others, it reminds me that courtesy and kindness still abounds.    One even went out of her way to console a teary-eyed commuter.   When I have a chance, I give up my seat too when needed or share a tissue or pen when asked.   I believe in paying it forward, because I too was a recipient of kindness.  Years ago, I needed some coins for my bus home and wanted to break my $5.00 bill.  The woman offered her $1.00 coin, smiling and chatting with me and didn't asked for anything.  A small token, but a precious reminder - the seeds of kindness are everyone's reach.   

whiff of cold wind sends 
shivers of winter's dread- the dead
leaves petal the soil

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Toni, Kanzensakura, where the theme is kindness and the prose part is 150 words or less.  Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, October 26, 2017


sun glare
blue haze streaked with
black lava-

maddening thirsty soil-
tang of frost on tilted dust devils-

lost river
with little in it
to love-

Original Text:  Land of Little Rain by Mary Austin.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Erasure or Blackout Poetry hosted by Victoria Slotto. Come and join us when pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.

Monday, October 23, 2017

Walk with me by the Riverwood

tangerine leaf fell
not with creak-creaking sounds
nor screech-screeching seagull's cries
but with firm swish

into the river's belly,
mirror of lazy summer- 

tides gently rock
as blue sky pitches its ageless swansong

under his bug-bitten skin,
his heart was green
pasture, fluffy with cottonseeds-

Posted for dVerse Poets - Quadrille -  post of 44 words with the word CREAK.   Spent a wonderful autumn afternoon in Riverwood, a conservation area in our city.  Thanks for joining us.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017


The green leaves are still clinging
to boughs
Only the sudden gusts of cold wind
tears the canvas
to a calligraphy of sticks  
beside mulched green apples
pregnant with smell of rain

I marvel the sea of colors-
greens, oranges & burnt browns
filling up the sky, with dots of
orange pumpkins, yellow corn squash-

This season is too short
much like a hurried kiss
pressed between hello & goodbye-
That space
between words,
unaccounted, yet a heavy presence- 

Still autumn never burns
deeply under the skin,
Don't leave me, ever-

Instead, I fall
rolling with the season - 
falling into the piles of dying things- 
entwining with black soil & seeds of spring- 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, hosted by Kim Russell - Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, October 16, 2017

We wore black

The world at the other side, is drily chaotic but still a beloved motherland.   I have come for the funeral but it felt like a homecoming.   For myself, I had prayed for peace for my ailing father, and a comforting life for my mother and sisters who have been caring for him. He was a difficult patient who knew his days were numbered. As I arrive at the wake, the traditions of grieving made everything familiar, and  reassuring - flowers, mass cards, consoling words of neighbors and friends, and the prayers for the dead for 9 days.   

Rains came at early morning, cooling the summer-like temperatures during the day.  Dawn was reddish grey, with gloomy skies.   When the rains break, it was steady humming on the roof and small garden.  We were lucky that on the morning of the funeral rites, sky held its peace & only gave away its tears in the late afternoon.

smell of fragrant roses
perks up my nose, but there're no flowers-
only dying candles-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg. The haiku happened to me.  

Monday, October 9, 2017

Thank you for counting the moonbeams with me!

I touched the dark-

and felt the rage of
heavy rains-
intensity of lightning- 
bleakness of shadows-

Yet, I also felt light-

See, up there-
the moon
single flower
blooms with fervor
(not hope)
its silvery sheen 
enough to blaze nightsky- 

Reminding me:

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille with host De Jackson.   This is a 44 word post with the word - HOPE.   Thanks for the visit!  And for my Canadian friends, Happy ThanksGiving!!!

Thursday, September 21, 2017

What is the c?lor

of the sky 
when the heart is feverish moon
grasping for air, refusing to fade in fire-

of his eyes
when thoughts are noosed in bullets
and every step is unanswered

of the rain
when flood gates open, unmarking
borders, valleys & keys, leveling roofs to

of the sunrise
on the farthest side of galaxy
is it apricot or apple, behind cloudy mist?
or is it a mirror of emptiness, abandoned by dying 

of my pen
when I forget syllables & taste of
pecan tarts & smell of wild red plum  

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLink Night, Hosted by Gayle Walters Rose.   A late response to Bjorn's Poetic Prompt of writing a poem filled with questions.  Thanks for the visit.

Monday, September 18, 2017

I, a watercolor

My words are dark stones, dry and fading at night.  The burdens of city life staining my tongue ash and grey. I soak it in watercolors and river of calm.   I am very much aware that these negative thoughts are transients, like autumn leaves slipping away in the mercurial winds.  Each morning, I decide to paint my thoughts with nature's vibrant brushstrokes.  Why?   Because I know that I can heal myself, restore myself again when I am out of balance.  My writing is therapeutic and as I write positive affirming words, so I am lifted on wings of serenity.   

pumpkin-yellow leaf,
a still canvas of autumn-
gulls fly overhead-

Posted for Dverse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Toni (Kanzansakura).   Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, September 7, 2017


Marmalade moon, fading by dawn's light
Allay our fears in these fig-shaped hearts
Garnish with herbs, root spices, sea salt
Impaled stones, melt to mirrors of light 
Cake our way with berries, ripe with stardust

Picture from here

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Please join us when the pub doors open by 3pm EST.   A late poem for Paul's Tuesday Poetics, Magic and an acrostic poem for Frank's prompt last week. Thanks for the visit ~

Monday, September 4, 2017

September musings

A tree clothed in half green, half orange.  Morning sun is muted yellow, as leaves start to fall on field of green and purple wild flowers.   The colors of September are myriad and signals the changing season from long summer days to cooler afternoons.  The sunsets are coming earlier, instead of 9pm, often bringing rains at night.  Amidst faded summer petals, my hardy roses are blooming anew, as if on the second spring. And all because of the evening rain.   

At the home front, I am almost 1/3 empty nest.  Though my youngest is starting university tomorrow, she will be staying home as we live at the border of Toronto City.   She has new laptop, bags, shoes and clothes.  Though she revels in her new surroundings, she is not ready to live on her own, unlike her two older brothers.  She loves the comforts of home cooked meals and nice room.  I am mindful to keep a balance - giving her independence, while widening her boundaries. 

fallen green apples 
litter the rain-soaked ground-
grey-tailed birds perch, swishing-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday hosted by Kanzensakura ~  Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm ~ 

Monday, August 28, 2017

a flicker between heartbeats

morning sky is grey hawk
of silence

tides are slow, lapping
white foam, waiting for canoes
to ripple the lake's corners

wildflowers stand on tiptoes
to catch sunlight, ripening peach
with rain-drizzled skin

i inhale deeply
curl of space
whisker of light

At Maligne Lake, Jasper National Park

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub- QUADRILLE hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.   This is a 44 word post with the word BLISS.  Thanks for the visit ~ 

Thursday, August 24, 2017

between layers of worksheets

the words are morphing  
to pepper and salt
on drowsy cool afternoon

his mind, a waffle bowl
scoops two ice cream,
topping with chocolate bits, sliced 
peaches, berries & bananas

as sunlight ebbs on street curb
his tongue, dry paper, 
gobbles the sweet treat-

crunching the honey oats 
his thoughts unbound, swirling school 
of fish, gold and green as emerald lake

time to take a break 
& chase dreams with fishing nets

by Riusuke Fukahori

Photo from Colossal

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight hosted by Gayle Walters Rose - Thanks for the visit ~
This is a late response to the Poetics Musical prompt last week by Mish.   I chose:
"Chasing dreams with fishing nets" by Rain Delays, Crash Parallel   

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

monday's train journal

subway train rumbles on
        doors open, chimes

people hop in, and out-
         scarves, hats, jackets,

turbans, shorts, slippers, shoes-
         a sea of hues-

a woman with black veil- 
         pale girl with tattoos- 

an old man, with dirty cart- 
         lad with headphones-

i trace clouds & blue sky
         against gray steel

i am not colorblind,
         there are shades, tints

beyond my sunglasses, 
         borders to scale

in my mind, fenced by words,
         beliefs and faith-

i check them everyday-
         measuring depth,

levels of acidity-
         i seek relief in green

forest, calm acceptance 
         of mother nature-

i pray for roots of empathy, 
         seeds of kindness

to rain whatever hardness 
         is left inside-

slowly, surely, i work
         chipping corners-

here comes my station stop-
         i fold my edges

under red cardigan- 
         the crowd surges, 

giant waves, blurring our
         faces with sands-

Posted for D'verse Poets pub - Border Poetics.  Challenge:  To write about border theme and include the word "border" either in your title or poem. An extra challenge would be to write about the invisible border theme e.g. mental borders or imaginary boundaries.   The form and structure is your choice.

Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.

Monday, August 21, 2017

summer of 2017

We inhaled, slurped, nibbled slowly.  As if to prolong the sensation of awe and grandeur. As if we could not get enough with the first taste of  clean mountain air, the spice of rain on forest floor.  We hiked, grasped for breath and took lots of photos which can never really do justice to the area. We love the different facets of the mountains, blueness of glacier-fed lakes, rivers and valleys with thousands of evergreen pine cones.  And the giant rocks with ice glacier on top, that swallowed our vision.  

The road trip took us to two national parks, Banff and Jasper of Alberta.  It was our first time to visit the eastern part of Canada.  The call of the wild and footprints of the First Nations are dominant in the historic places.   Our spirits were restored, all stress forgotten.   We vowed to return soon. 

river tides are slow dancing
to wind's drumming song, we gaze
at elk grazing, sun-gold

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday hosted by Toni, Kanzensakura.  Thanks for the visit.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

of tangerine dreams

i see your smile, shy-tangerine grin
behind the crab apple tree, sunset-stilled
you move slowly to pluck the ripe 
bearing fruits, licked by summer rain 

i taste wine & olives as i walk towards you 
but you're turning to a blur, mist of clouds
my feet are turning to quicksand as
you fade away, dreamscape in a fog-

how quickly i forget, time has hidden you
from me- you, fiery fire of my canvas-
you, deepest blue lake of my thoughts-

every night, even with my eyes closed
i can trace your face with my fingertips,
my love, sleep, until we meet again-

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Free verse sonnet hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for the visit.