June 2026: One Life To Live

Tuesday, June 23, 2026

The Nail paint Shelf

Mealprep for the week to be

In neatly labelled boxes and jars

Homemade sauces and ketchups

Curated for personal taste and tantrums

Couple tubs and ice trays of silly projects

Benevolently called icecreams and lollies

And many other things in the limited shelves

We never bothered to notice, or remember

In that small fridge from my childhood home

Was everything a world could hold

And still a place was assigned with care

For the dozen bottles of my frivolous nail polish

Time jogged and ran as fast as it could

And now there is a fridge that I call just my own

It houses icecreams with fancy names and tubs

And exotic sauces whose ingredients are, on me, lost

Mealprep remembers, follows tradition in the shelves

But they miss the variety, care, and some Love

Fruits never reach the baskets or bags

And veggies stare with anxiety at the food tags

An old forgotten cake calls in silent sobs during midnight

But during breakfast sits on my plate as a treat

The fridge is bigger than what it was

But it never kept a space for my nail polish

Not anymore, there never really was

That shelf is still there, filled with condiment sachets

And some redundant dreams that await

A weekend recipe that's never seen the light

Or a place on the stove or on a plate

I still have dozens of nail polish bottles

That never expect a zone of their own

The fridge is bigger in space... sure

But it has lost a s(h)elf in a land of its own

/ 33

: 263

Sunday, June 21, 2026

Inhaling Wild

I smell whimsies on crysanthemums,

The essence of unbothered beings

On the faint veins of white waxy petals,

Of a flower who never shares its name

And gets called wildflower instead.

They don't know its name

for they never asked,

clueless of their own game.

It has no traits of affinity of being wild,

Nor a care or obligation,

To fulfill a fate

It never wrote on its own.

It stays on a path or a field,

Or blooms out of crevices on concrete

To inhale the breeze as it deems fit.

Or seep in the sun, moon, rain, and dew

Through its skin, sans a manual or a cue.

It doesn't wish to fight the heat,

Or resent the blue of cold,

To shout resilience or power

To the wind, to be viewed as bold.

It doesn't boost fragranced spells

For the butterfly,

Or spiffy nectar for the bee.

A dream of wilderness,

Or a chance out of ashes

Not on its bucket, just spritz of glee.

And yet, it gets called wildflower

Instead of a name it never spelled out loud,

In the woods of blazed voices.

The act of not being an ounce of wild,

In a clearing where grasses too are not mild,

With an ecstatic need of being different,

Is but the sharpest tone of wild,

Nonconformance beguiled.

An arena of gladiator fights,

Reflectors and ring lights,

Brown iris and blue lens,

Oppose the wind,

For it does not make sense,

A guide to stand out, albeit dense.

But a glide through breezy bridge

To live and exist, and love with ease;

Colors are beautiful but never prioritized.

Stroll in shadows through summers

And pages of parchment through ink alchemized.

Wild but not... Not but wild.

/ 47

: 291

Tuesday, June 16, 2026

Close

Can Time quicken its steps, please?

Let this day be over before long?

I would sleep it off

But Sleep is not too kind either.

I would close the eyelids

But the flooded eyes would not let them shut

Can Time hasten on this one, please?

Can it run a little faster?

Let this day close its doors for good.

/ 9

: 60

Sunday, June 14, 2026

Light's Views

Flick a switch, but which one

There's light in darkness too

Glide on... to ask the sun's view

Burn a filament, burn a charge

One must endure an endeavor

Like stars burn hydrogen, at large

But light is not all it takes

There is more at the stakes

Reflect it must, to brighten up the day

A soul, a heart, or rows of corner hay.

Sans a core, light is eaten

Heard of black holes?

The fields are not smitten.

Bend it can, where gravity stays strong

Drifts off with non-chalance, (harsh!)

If matters of conscience are sparse

Enrich and nurture, lives and forms, it can

Cosmic lengths and quantum realms, it does span

A beacon, a twinkle, or a beam; be brave

For Light is both... a particle, and a wave.

/ 20

: 132

#Light

Eluded

Sleep eluded her as the night turned,

And took off to places beyond maps,

That promised no retakes, no returns.

A voyage a soul couldn't fathom,

Sleep whelmed her in every form.

Often unattainable, an allusion till now,

The eyes must take an eternal vow.

Minted through depths of unclear pathways,

Senses parked still but flew through space,

Sleep held her tough; she kept her grace.

/ 10

: 66

#whelm

Searching for the Dark

Inky blue blanket sprinkled in a pearly farm

The fiery balls masked with lily's calming charm

The snapshots from yesteryears are beyond the hum

Now riddled with electricity, powered conundrum

Cassiopeia and Pegasus, perhaps on a journey far off

Scorpius wandered around, went home, and let it drop

The Polaris, the guide of all, still must be there

But with neon blunders, they are found nowhere.

The lamps and lights, turn off the grid

Let them vanish, adieu I must bid

Let the daisies rule

Wishing upon Andromeda again, that would be cool.

/ 12

: 93

sky at night, but not the moon

Awaiting The Falcon

Chewbacca with sad orby eyes,

Abandoned and Aidless,

In human parking site,

That was a heart rending plight.

Was it calling out for the Millennium Falcon?

But Han Solo is long gone...

Rey might be around to feel the force;

She might come searching, steering the course.

Or do I intervene and let my car be a starship ?

Momentary maybe, but it would be wondrous, a cosmos trip.

But the tailback traffic won't be one with the force,

Maybe if we jumped to hyperspace, then of course.

But I am no Jedi, not with force too,

Stay strong Chewbacca, May the force be with you!

/ 14

: 105

June Treats

June adorned in summer till brim,

Untamed sunflower shadows dance on whim.

Nimble zephyr relish luscious fruits sweet,

Enamored in golden flowers' nectarous treat.

/ 4

: 24

Six words atleast

Bound of the Boundless

Perhaps, to whisper a clingy tale,

The silver‐grey cloud loomed closer.

There are forces imminent,

It heeds none... until,

It blocks the blooming sun.

Crepuscular rays play their part;

They peek with a hint and impart :

'O cloud, let it be known

You have descended much, beyond too close.

The sky is anxious; now, enough commotion!'

The stones and rocks gravel, awestruck;

They murmur and whisper

To let the river know.

The river ripples,

Though calm, composed, being at fore.

The cloud takes a step back

Stunned, it blushes blue

Offers a consoling hand

And tells its part, devastatingly true.

'Land and river, the line I have known,

Never has been and never will be blown.

The thirst of summer and ancient tales,

Tagged me along, by the blue-hearted trails

For a scent of earth water,

And the steely charm of the gentle river

From skies far off, I have trudged to hither

I shall recede, slowly and with steady steps,

That was enough, the delightful water scent.

In a moment of moments that has been

For another eternity, maybe until then.'

The cloud turned,

The twilight burned,

And for the greater good,

Simple peace stood.

/ 34

: 196

Dicey Destination

A bus, a flight, a cab, a heli

The route was straight

But such events do not happen daily.

All was planned and locked

Short trip bounded for two days

Until the mind wandered... on a flower's gaze.

Abandon the bus, but pay the price

Take the fastest plane on earth

And roll the destination dice.

Still a flower in play

But fate had other plans

Maybe a bird chanced a dance.

Flight landed elsewhere

In a valley from otherworld

Stranded in divine nowhere.

A cab ride of half a day

In roads of slippery heaven

Was there another way?

Heard of a waterfall, amazing and rare

Paused the cab, heli on cue (a dare?)

Not a seconds thought to spare.

Saw the waterfall, views from nowhere

A trip worth two lifetimes

Clubbed in transitions, here to there.

/ 24

: 138

#Journey

The Day The Sky Broke

An event of a day it was as such

Crossed cities and rivers

From angel hour and beyond dawn

Hasty breakfast, haste shelved on bench

A corner cafe or a brunch spot pop-up,

For a change...

One had work, academic championship to compete

Family in tow, support and holiday retreat

The day yawned its way to dusk

And back again after a day of silent rush

But then on a bridge across a river

Pitch black sky and warm lit roads

Twinkling headlights

From arrays of human drawn carriage

Anecdotes about supposed aliens

We playfully rummage

The lights grew, instant sun in seconds

The day was back...

We muted noises and saw

Was the light there, brighter than the sun?

Did day break for a minute and then was gone?

Or did aliens heed our voices and stories

And plug a proof-of-life on?

Stunned and shocked and confused and elated

Words lost coherence, our eyes we doubted

Still stopped for an evening snack

Sweet treats and desserts,

This day had a knack.

Slept off, planning dreams of UFOs...

The papers broke the mysticism -

An array of burning asteroids they reported.

(Albeit massive and rare.)

Bummer!

/ 33

: 195

about witnessing something unexpected

Fossilized Slush

Silky black roads drizzled in gloss

A smell of frozen dust, light in toss

Bright and blinding with specks of dirt

Old snow by highway, the tales they blurt

Snoozing seed prays it to move

Let cold begone, get grass its groove

Flakes melt and settle down the tube

Giant snow cone in a messy, tinted cube

Forgotten mittens and blown away scarves

Fossilized in the old snow, freezing air departs

Heater coils jamming up, Sun pleads

Melt away snow of memories, few hues the hour needs

/ 12

: 87

"old snow"

Frayed and Lost

Slow-brewed mornings

On edge of dawn

Toasted laughters

Walk through tomato patch

Smell of hibiscus, tickling marigold

Pinwheel jasmine

And a sip of chorus from birds

Old soul music that used to be new

Maybe a round of hide-and-seek too.

An afternoon nap

A scoop and half of melting summer

Stroll the dusty paths

A distant mountain that was near

The fire in its belly hazily clear

Songs and charades in evenings

Ursa major, Orion, telescope sightings

Homework and stories

A dinner that the soul cherished

Now the day begins at night

Planned but no plan in sight

Mornings vanish*

Evenings crash

Afternoon missed for nothing

Lost in paper-cut scars

Night screams and shrieks

For absent stars

A flower growing... in a field of wars.

/ 27

: 125

about something that used to be routine, but no longer is.

Stardust: Arrabbiata or Stir-fried?

Oh! The sky's about to fall

On earth or jupiter

Or on a dwarf pluto

Who could tell?

I see streaks of fire

Or are those shattered snow

Or maybe cosmic spaghetti

Whirring from a oily wok?

Was that parmesan though

Or shreds of cabbage

Melting and fusing

In liquid tomatoes of rosy rouge?

Oh! The stars are dropping beyond hills

Or asteroids escaped astray

Or flowers from snowy celestial orbs

Who could throw some light and say?

I see greyish strands of light

Or are those purple ribbons of dusk

Or maybe stir-fried buckwheat noodles

Craving a broth of umami-drenched tofu?

Were those julienned cucumbers

Or generous aroma of chives and egg

Dressed in soy sauce and vinegar

A summer breakfast or winter ample supper ?

Let the sky fall

Let the stars run around

Let the whirlwind scatter stardust

But a serving of noodles first.

Please.

/ 29

: 147

#Noodles

Skeleton Soldiers

Tarred and marred in glisten and gloom,

Snow footings but dusty, dreary loom.

Dusk tried a bloody disposition...

Bereft of planned rules, a lost situation.

The soldiers stood on, anchored to the spot,

Low on fuel and muscles and blood,

Etched resilience on the frozen mud;

Did they write parchments or simply rot?

Not a sliver or beam to uphold,

A beacon engulfed by treacherous cold.

Still they stood on bones and hope,

On spring keepsakes and summer glory they cope.

/ 12

: 81

To Whom It May Concern

To whom it may concern

On a puddle infested path...

Who'd bear silver and white,

A trademark at such a sight?

They splatter and muddle

Drops of evil intentions

On pristine fabric... destitute loser!

Don't waste sand or gravel

Nor concrete's brief, prized worth.

Let the dents be lessons

For adjustments and glory of labour.

To whom it may concern

Paving paths of puddles,

Stenched, meek behavior suppressed...

Sshhh... Hide pristine crystals,

Time would do the rest.

Make masks and laugh in tattered cloaks...

Why protect and preserve,

When they can be put to test,

And broil in mud as they deserve?

But don't concern yourself

If I bring my sun or a hair dryer.

Dry out the water from little dents,

Or from this planet's oceans forever.

/ 24

: 127

Title: To Whom it May Concern

Satin Prisms

Glassy orbs on satin pleats

Crystal marvels of clinging beads

Soft sun reflections, golds amassed

Dew-kissed morning blades of grass

How they shine with just a drop of water

Eternity preserved in moments of glitter

Miracle sewn in string-less bonds

Spell of love in dawn held wands

Wondrous and delicate, a joy of forever

Enigma beyond touch, rainbow worthy endeavor

Ephemeral but magnificence at their core

Dew drops hold silken strength, a mystic lore

/ 12

: 75

about beauty without ever using the word beauty

Divine

A spoonful of heaven and syrup

And a dash of blueberry jam

A spoonful of clouds and jelly

And punch of ice-cream crammed.

A spoonful of sweet sand and crushed granola

And cubes of strawberry chunks

A spoonful of breezy desire

And dollops of whipped cream dunked

A spoonful of smiles and soul-stirring pine

And a piece of cheesecake divine

/ 10

: 60

Spoons : real or metaphorical

Resist and Desist

Resist the rainstorms of a sunny day

Especially the ones

That beam and dance

To burn years of promises in a glance

And light pyres beneath your earned hay.

Resist the waves that soar so high

But swiftly recede at once

Uprooting toiled strand of roots

Only to return and wash it all

Footprints, paved paths, and parasols.

Resist the flowers that have no bugs

Especially the ones with a vivid scent

Of sweet scenes and shining grins

No thorns, no guards, no err in view

But housing poison is their soul purview.

/ 15

: 93

begins with the last word of the last poem written

An Ode to a Peacock Feather

Collected and bought,

You were both :

An apple and an orange -

Wanted and sought.

You came to me

On a pink plummeted noon,

Vibrant and delicate,

Like cheesecake laden spoon.

Tender and soft-faced,

You swayed and blushed,

And smiled at me

As the violent air rushed.

You took me to a time of joy

As a vase I crafted after long

From a stray piece of thread,

Forgotten cardboard, adhesive strong.

You welcome me

With unique hues,

Made me laugh

With odd-world views.

A place for different colors

Must surely exist...

In this world or another,

Even when all resist.

/ 24

: 100

An Ode

Cosmos in a Satchel

A scented satchel of blooming stars

Sewn with frost-frolicked willow leaves

Stringed with moon-touched nectar

Houses a prairie of green-hued wreaths

The prairie hosts a tea-party of elves

Who dance for fire-flowers and glowworms

Laurels of wisteria stacked in curio cabinets

Giggle and wiggle, making ridiculous forms

The sweet touch of honeydew nights

Inhale and exhale bursts of silly-nilly things

A chip of fun in a shoulder so strong

Embeds impasse-stricken air in glazed dumplings

/ 12

: 75

At least 5 of the words : Bat, Impasse, Moon, Curio, Dumpling, Willow, Satchel, Sweet, Exhale, Chip.

Gloaming View

Muted in the blue of seas

A gloaming, a sphere of fire

The orange spattered grays

Of the sky's innocent desire.

The star in its gloom and passion

Kisses the dreaded blue of water

A few seconds in store

Or could it be a couple minutes more?

The day awaits on the other side

Let the lullaby be the night's song

A shadow-stained figure witnesses

Stringing trees and plants along.

The sky blinks in shades of ember

The water caresses a day to remember.

/ 14

: 84

Saturday, June 13, 2026

Lost ? Or Found ?

Uninhabited.

But that was a dream.

Was that a dream?

The sun-scented air

Would have answered the riddle

But that sole dingy yacht has a mouth

And ears that catch things half-baked

That vessel a blabber mouth?

The pearl dust in the crystal sand

Would have drawn a map of secrets

But the sky would peep

Pass on to the clouds

Like warm fudge

On a chilled glass bowl

That sky a tattle master?

The hills did good

But stood disconnected

Across the horizon

They have trees that pray

And see beyond the surface

Of waves and wind

Those hills of any help?

The waters by the white beach

Snoozed a chance in brief

And whistled a couplet deep

Would they ripple my anecdote

If painted in hues of teal?

To be lost yet found

And found, yet lost

A glory worth a re-tell?

/ 30

: 144

Pages

Tuesday, June 23, 2026

The Nail paint Shelf

Sunday, June 21, 2026

Inhaling Wild

Tuesday, June 16, 2026

Close

Sunday, June 14, 2026

Light's Views

Eluded

Searching for the Dark

Awaiting The Falcon

June Treats

Bound of the Boundless

Dicey Destination

The Day The Sky Broke

Fossilized Slush

Frayed and Lost

Stardust: Arrabbiata or Stir-fried?

Skeleton Soldiers

To Whom It May Concern

Satin Prisms

Divine

Resist and Desist

An Ode to a Peacock Feather

Cosmos in a Satchel

Gloaming View

Saturday, June 13, 2026

Lost ? Or Found ?

About Me