The Noose


cloistered jars of pickles and sweets

ferment in fury behind the doors ajar,

festooning you with an impulse to peep

the froth and fumes of constricted love


strenuous breaths with sneeze and cough

scent of flowers congests your nostrils,

mouth-breathing the glory of the days gone

you question my mournful mouldering


as if nothing happened…


©Written Frames, 2018

Freedom in love makes you fall in love with chains and shackles of it, willingly!



Inner Conflict


demons howl and sprint

bloodbath of pride, enthroned is the shame

sickened to stomach you ride the wolf

of the moon and its yearnings


swing the sword and charge

murder the distaste of headache

cradled between the palms is battled crown

eyes twitch and roll in anguish


be awake if you need to be

heart is clasped in claws of shame concealed

clutch hard your chest and spit the blood

spilling blood of prayers, you never chanted


lie still and stare at the roof

enclosed inside the four walls, the battlefield stiffened

heed your hands and sleep if unarmed

breathe and pretend the ignorance


or else arm yourselves

a hooked knife in left is targeted to chest

a sword in right is pointed to head

do or die as them have said




©Written Frames, 2018

Image Source: Pinterest



Confess that bed bedeviled with lassitude

Encumbers the body rooted to ground of ash

Procession of the soul harangued to death


Thick ropes of hair sprawl on the cold limbs

A strand swells and strains the lips, says “sshhhhh . . . “

Eyes known of crime are shut in its cavern


Strangulated expiation of the forlorn heart

Venomous claws of the constant, infuse all blue

Specked and tattooed with the dark and sewn


Blackmailed into surrender by the fear of fate

The will is murdered, robbed you of your spine

Curl up into bull’s eye targeted by flawless time


Crime is not to have a life

But have nothing to live for


©Written Frames, 2018

Dreams of avarice


Buoyant with brilliant eyes

She sails on the stream of time

Her aquatic heart, the amphibian mind

Suspended in distant waters

Her gaze settled above the saline


Pebbled path there she sees

Ready to take her through wild trees

Her sight skips the footprints that lead

And she ceased,

‘Dreams of peace are not welcome’, she reads.


O she rushes back before she is pulled in

Into a routine, a duty to fulfill

Of worldly matters

Of monetary gains

Of sick craze

To tramp the others on the path you chase


Flapping her limbs, succumbed to angst

She runs, she drops, she crawls

Into the bedaubed shrine so crystal mossed

She sinks deep and so her innocence within

Her Heart creased with those latent dreams

Submerged along, O she screams


She screams,






Strangest silence




Hands pressed against her vocals.


O my, she is afraid

What if the dormant demons inside appreciate the scene

Her eyes have seen in the land beyond

Of leg-cuffed deadweights dragging the dreams of avarice?


© Written Frames, 2017