My Poems

Back Home Journey

Pitch dark fields cross past the train
Dim light from the compartment
Illuminates side rails.

Ponds and paddy mingle solemnly
Carve eternity!

A lamp hangs over the milepost 50
Drops of water from air
Slide over my face
Sparkle in blue rays.

My eyes see some gems
I’d lost
With the crushing signalposts
I count the abandoned cabins of my life.

Mid –night every where perpetuates
When I return Home.

Drop by Drop

Drop by drop the last remnants of
Life giving fluid are oozing into
The vein, the 15 second interval
Screeches when 12 bubbles of air
Suck the last moments of life into a
Fine capillary.

The passage of the needle
Resuscitates the same way every
Second,
Adding to the blood few molecules of
Energy regularly as if, it knew the
Soul alive!
It doesn’t know for whom goes this
Respiration it doesn’t want to understand
Either,
Gone is the man,
Exists the actor,
Lost is the purpose, the curtain drops
Forever,
Failed to extract even a second out of
His life.

Scooters in Delhi

Scooters are like
Interstitials
They fill the voids ---
Interspaces between vehicles, of
Sorts
While at the crossing
At red light stops.
Scooters are like
Punctuation marks
Without shifting even a letter,
They ooze into the gaps
While signals on the road
Write a paragraph

The arrow green opens
The bottle of traffic
Scooters overpour
Like effervescing froth

Copyright © Jasbir Chawla