It seems I’ve written myself into a corner~
pages piling up like overexcited puppies,
yapping for a home.
My desk groans under the weight
of poems, memoirs, and drafts~
half-finished brilliance,
and that one story I swear I’ll revise someday.
The solution seems obvious
another filing cabinet~
a shiny metal monument
to my writing compulsion.
But where to put the thing
in this tiny office
already stuffed with creativity
and questionable organizational choices.
Then it hits me
the closet~
that mysterious portal
where abandoned sweaters go to retire.
It’ll fit snugly inside
like it was always meant to be there,
guarding my words
like a loyal metal dragon.
Problem solved… for now
until the next poem arrives
demanding its own drawer
and the closet starts whispering,
“Don’t even think about it.”
Some say "butterfly", some say "bee" -
it's the pollination Olympics from sea to sea.
I interviewed a flower, shy and demure -
"Which is the insect that you prefer?"
It turns out she wasn't so shy at all,
yapping like she was on sodium pentothal.
"A butterfly has such beautiful wings,
while a bee buzzes and sometimes stings,
and as far as I know, nobody has heard
of a butterfly ever saying a word.
A bee works hard and makes lots of honey,
but a butterfly looks better and his jokes are funny.
So, I married the bee, because he can provide,
but I love to see the butterfly on the side."
junk yipping and yapping
yard dog n
e
• * c B A
k bones and ham bones R K
the
scent of
beef w r now? who is running now
h u w b
o n h o
o w
I n o w
s I f o
n w
g
finally shut her trap,
did the job
of being herself,
letting me
observe
in the quiet—
god,
the yapping
made her,
too human
it's like she thought
she was the artist.
now look:
line breaks
sharp again—
enough to keep
breaking
backs, morale,
slogging
the ten-ton-taken-for-granted
stones
up-up-up
Sisyphean hills,
still—
I miss her
jibber jabber.
Moving my hands.
My hands twisting and almost tackling each other.
Colliding knuckles.
Frantic and desperate.
Eyes grazing and chewing.
Jaw moving side to side.
Everything seems so much like-
A lack of communication.
So I twirl my body around.
As if I’m holding a ribbon.
Almost falling over.
Realizing that I haven’t said a word.
When I try to speak-
It’s just my toes tapping.
Feels like I’m yapping.
My mouth is heated.
Eyelashes grasping.
When you get into this state of mind…
Opening your mouth could reveal that I have no teeth or tongue.
I’m convinced.
No one understands me, ever.
So she guided me back to bed.
So I could make shadow puppets on the ceiling.
The Reich is
on the rise.
Implementing
Project 2025.
Time to focus
in reality.
Time to seek out
Commonality.
The ANGELS
stopped singing.
The alarm bells
are ringing.
Trump has
Destroyed
democracy.
With his
Outlandish
Prophecy.
A true blue
Narcissist.
It could be
Deadly if
you resist.
The deportation
of Americans.
Plucking them off
the streets
in Maryland.
The rich eating
the poor.
Until there
are no more.
America's great
Empire crumbles.
He keeps on yapping,
Mumble Jumble.
A sad time to
Live in the US of A.
It is painful to,
WATCH IT DECAY.
Turbo1904 ?
Shivering, sobbing here me falling apart,
I wake up everyday calling it a nightmare
With wetty eyes yet swollen face,
This would remind me of a wide race,
I have to run alone without you my side,
Your shadow was a shelter to me,
How much sorrow I could hide,
Reading your stories, called you everyday,
As you neither answer thy call,
I kept sending you a message anyway,
Me stopped talking to all,
All I loved you yapping to me,
See, I'm still here,
Waiting for thee,
O'er the darkest shades of grieve,
You'll fine me behind you,
Never let you cry,
Defeat the world for you,
Thou my story is not over,
Speak to me gently, I'm scared of you!
Come back to I'll take care of you,
This world is not more than a lie,
The love engraved was always true!
–Falak
He was obnoxious almost to the point of repulsive
Constant banter escaped his always yapping jowls
He gave you no space or peace, monopolizing all conversation
Many stopped attending family reunions due to this brazen boor
• Will you, won't stop your yapping?
• Leaving me scornful with my foot tapping
• Should you, need you waste our time?
• Bickering about needless and petty things
• Do learn to mute it sometime
• 'Cause my leave will leave me with glee
• With the knowledge that I'm finally free
Torrents pound ground.
Raincoat over head
going for the mail.
Small dog - large voice
yapping on and on.
Dog now howling,
Lake Erie has thrown
a bucket
of cold water over its head.
It could happen,
it's a very Great Lake.
I want to be the person
Whom you can come to when
Everything is going wrong
I’ll always be there to hold you
And listen to all your problems.
I want to be the person
Where you can confide in
Without any worries.
I want to be the person
Who is your comfort zone
I’ll always be here when
You need me be it any hour of
The day I’ll be there for you
Even if am sleeping or doing any work.
I want to be the person whom
You can yap about anything
Without any worries
As I love listening to your yapping.
Milking time
breaking dawn, the sun slowly rising in the east
as early morning mist evaporates, all is quiet and still
in the distance, a cow bellows.
a cottage door opens and a maid emerges.
in her hands the milking stool and pail
later she returns to the dairy
cows gather at gate
black dogs yapping at their heels
the milkmaid awaits
welcome the warm byre
maid rests her head on cow’s flank
creamy milk pours forth
For my entire life
I've always been on the brink
of annihilation.
A cold war child
a nuclear age child
petrified of being exposed
to the fallout, child
Under a wooden desk
covering porcelain neck
the unforgiving sirens.
Teachers yapping at us to keep our heads covered.
Seven years of age
stressed out by the alphabet
A thoroughly undiagnosed dyslexic
Friends that hide a darker shade,
Are the first ones to let you go and fade.
They want to see you do better,
But will degrade you little by little.
Fake friends treat you bad,
Expects you to be joyful and on-track.
But little do they know, their words hurt,
Like an arrow right through the heart.
They don't understand that they can be wrong too,
They just act like they have no clue.
But I soon realised, they are toxic and manipulative,
They aren't good people to be around with.
They go yapping about their achievements,
They just don't care about your sentiments.
Who will explain them that what they are doing is wrong?
We should do something before it's too long.
Let's change people around us, let's change ourselves,
Spread happiness not any stress.
Let's make sure we make someone smile a day,
Without any expectations, without any giveaways.
Because at the end, you are you, I am me,
But aren't we all still human beings?
Let's change this society, make every person bloom,
How about we give them a little groom
Sighs of susurration sunder the silence ~
The neem tree swaying in the wind
An old lady yapping like a non-stop chatterbox
The roar of the road hero's motorcycle revving past
And a radio playing romantic songs nearby
An occasional vendor selling village vegetables
The honking horn of the ice-cream man
Children running by after a busy school day
Household hens clucking to announce their presence
Crickets croon in crazy chorus
Then, there's the train whistling past thrice a day ~
Soulful sounds sweeten the symphony
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