Do not be a moth to my flame Do not lean towards my light I persuade you to train your mind And retract your flight Hold you attraction, change your course My light is your trap Are you that full of remorse? You’ll come close to me and flap? I am not on a mission …
I’d like to be born as a lemon With a bright yellow coat Strong when green Juicy when ripe All would pick me by the dozens Pickle me, show me off in a bowl. Chefs would lovingly knead me to release my juices And sprinkle me with flair My aroma would fill the air I’d …
No scars, you are beautiful, With a face lined with wonder; and a forehead with furrows of curiosity. With hands that tell tales of hard work, and eyes that shine with old memories. Some crevices still sting with the thorns of life, While some wrinkles sing of sun-soaked days and spontaneous laughter. Life is so …
The smudged eyeliner, speaks a long monologue of broken promises. Used a certain way, It symbolizes resistance, stops the wrongdoer in their tracks. Lined smokily, it lays out the laws of attraction, Commands Antony’s attention and provides Cleopetra’s advantage. Applied purposefully to ward off evil eyes; It’s a dark line that has changed the course …
Unfettered, it rises; a song from the gut, a soft whisper in the heart. Keep it alive and you heal. Nurture it and you thrive. It lurks in the starving bellies of the poor and, in the dreams of the prisoners who wish for the wind touching their naked faces. It bind a nation together when …
We are content with our mango ginger soup and butternut squash ravioli, freshly baked bread and slow cooked lentils in a cherry tomato puree. And since many wonder how we survive with less protein, our sides include chick-peas cutlets, cooked clean. Low maintenance that we are, give us a mushroom risotto in a bed of …
In the cold and polished kingdom of Metalia, she walks ominously with steel spatulas as shoulders, and tongs and forks adorn her hair. With cleavers, paring, and boning knives as nails, she is seen wearing clothes of plates and boots of pails. So is her plight! Legend has it that she threw spoons at a …
There is a dent in the last seat of my brown sectional, the result of an ingenuous act of two concave halves of my posterior digging into it for hours on end. I call it sitting The trolls call it couching, lazy-ing, bumming. It wasn’t easy to give shape to that last cushion What did …
Under the Grecian sun, the sapphire seas roil. Under the Grecian sun, the azure domes invite. Under the Grecian sun, the skies turn amber, and the winds carry messages from Aristotle, Plato, and Pythagoras. Songs of knowledge and wisdom, resound under the Grecian sun.
prachi jain 