a blushful pride — the grey cloak lifting
gently, sweet dreams rising, treated with
sulfur and carbon all night long — PM 2.5
as the air emanates a deathly spell, ghostly-
white with specks of pink-red phlegm on
a boastful sky —

take a whiff of cold and dust, rubbing
irritable, sleep-deprived eyes, and find
the wind-passage to comforts of urban
pleasures and umbral treasures —

waiting, waiting for it to become a time-
turned reality — the morning of this hour,
the cajoling fear of the march —

a numb reckoning for another one to pass,
a chimney-reserved sigh to veil the dark.


© Anmol Arora

For Midweek Motif at PU
Image source (A cyclist rides along a street as smog envelops a monument — NDTV)


Winter Morning

the vibratory sounds of the morning,

attuned to the deep breaths of sleeping,

silences the crowd of me in myself,

and tis’ the moment, I hear the life

of those out there, tucked within

their blankets, of wool and velvet,

and those enfolded, in coils of frost,

grey fog, and the bite of winter song


Image source

I am writing very less and that is one contributing factor among others, for not being regular on wordpress.

Music Inspired Haiku: The Day Begins

Krishna with his flute

beckoning the sparrows to

awaken morning


sun appears at window

farm-lord rises to music

choir of birds and trees


new light of new day

grunting cows and bleating sheep

distant voice calls you

*For Carpe Diem # 267; inspired by Karunesh’s The Day Begins:-

Joy Haiku

curtains put aside

the conscious stirs to wake up

joyous morning rays


touch of joy on skin

walking along aimlessly

rhythm of foot steps

* For Carpe Diem # 240.

* The first Right2Write Prompt is open for submissions. Do participate..