Saturday, April 23, 2011


I'd be remiss not to have a post this month for April is Poetry Month. In O Magazine,they had a great quotes by poets on where do poems come from.

I've been asked this before - "How do you know what to write? Where do you get the ideas?"

I like Timothy Liu's quote: "When you go to bed, you can't force a dream, right? In fact, the dream is a gift because it's a surprise. There are different theories about where dreams come from, but a general one is that the day's residue often becomes the little grain of sand around which the dream will then build. i think a poem is like that."

To me, poems are little birds floating around my head. I just have to stop and listen to them.
I often close my eyes and type, just listening to the thoughts and words being fed to me.

I've had times when I cannot write poetry and I know it's due to much noise in my life. Until I can resolve or push the noise away, I cannot hear the words.

So poetry is all around us - the stars, the moon, struggles of humanity, our child's eyes, our pasta sauce.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Word Masala Poetry Anthology

A great way to start the new year!

I have two poems included in the Word Masala Poetry Anthology. It is published in the UK and was edited by Yogesh Patel. I haven't gotten my copy yet, but recognize some of the poets on board and know their reputations as writers. So, please support the publisher.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Moon Child

I'm a Cancerian, which means the moon is my ruling planet. Actually, it's not technically a planet,but astrologers don't get into the details. They recognize it for it's power.

I do know that it's the inspiration to a lot of my poetry and artwork. I never get tired of staring at the moon and trying to understand why it's there. All I know is that we're blessed to have the moon. I've made the moon an insolent seductress, innocent bystander, anthromorphed with power and emotions in my poems. I've sketched pictures of moonlit nights and trees.

I recently set my alarm for 2:41 a.m. on Dec 21, 2010 because it was the night of the lunar eclipse. The moon blushed red and I had to see. Once I saw the moon, I had to write. Moon, stars, sun - all seep into my poems because it touches a universal nerve. I race home on evenings with full moons and crane my neck to see the full vibrant moon.

The moon is such a central part of human history. Full of mystery thought full of confidence. It changes, but it's reliable. Children are told stories of the 'man in the moon'. In India, it's common for children to call it Chanda Mama (Uncle Moon) because of its strong presence. The poem below captures my daughter's preschool references to the moon shapes - banana, watermelon and orange.

Stage Lights

When life doesn’t make sense, I look
up at the moon.
It’s really just a foam ball
hung by a string

poked through a velvet cloth
draped over a cardboard theater
made just for us.

Tilt the lights to reveal a banana moon.
Turn it more to show the watermelon moon.
Oh, just flash the light --
it’s an orange moon.

So now I feel better knowing
that I’m only driving around in circles
and if I want to, I can lift the velvet
cloak and take a peek outside.

Moonlight Masquerade

Moonlight Masquerade

Moonlight is a naughty decadent light,
A brazen masquerade
stealing the sun's glow,
breaking the mutually agreed upon rules
between the morn and the night.

Dropping blue and silver
luminescence where there should be
shadows is the violation of the stated agreement.