This heart is an enclosure

A cage forged of yesterday

The toil survived of today

A breath tinned for tomorrow

And an abandoned corner of sorrow

Of a piece given and lost


This entity is an audience

Walks to and fro

Past the echoes of the past

Unheard of deceptive tragedy

Befell on it deaf and dumb

And now a blindfold cast

Of the plays it play

Bland and oblivious

Of the corner

That darts tenebrous demeanor

Across the evocative loud room

Forbidden to radiate through

Must not touch the healing surface


Yet it stays, formidable to falter

Screams of the shattered

Ignored or perhaps adapted

But never forgotten!


Did you just say you moved on?


Wonder again

The breaths you take

In faraway land

In wait of love to hit again

And you emanate into the same air

Which they inhale



Tide of time fails to wash away the imprints they left

But may fade


©Written Frames, 2017










bars before me
bars before you

and your back towards me

I cannot reach you
you cannot leave me


we need to escape

this delusion of bond
this helplessness of belonging
this cry of carried away hearts


the soul threaded to the glory of past

we relinquished long back
love evaporated from finest of cracks

emerge out of this attire of attachment !!

©Written Frames, 2017

Can I be a verb?


Can I be a verb?

Without a verb, nouns will rot in one place
Without a verb, a feeling so in numb state
What to perceive, what to convey
Without a verb, between you and I there is a lot to miscalculate

I _ you

I wonder how to say
I liked you
I adored you
I loved you

And those hearsays
About my whispering heart
Clad of love, unearthing the past layers of dirt
So to bloom and hope to portray
Do you hear them say?

I am still, but still
I love you
I miss you
I await you.

It says, but do you hear them right?

My shield of silence against your pike of pride
Being hurt of your carelessness
And your ego uptight
The words never drilled out bright
From the layers of doubt you filled me with

But It never meant and it never will,
The things you think of me
The end you think of us
That not anymore
I love you
I need you


I am over you
That I hate you

See me through you
O dear, read me through
My unpolished surface
I glance right back at you

And I ask
Can I be a verb?

I will be if I may
For you to perceive it all in my voice
Can I be a verb of my choice?


©Written Frames, 2017

The winter I felt


Cool breeze grazes
My glacial nose
And those fuzzy brows
Water frozen on my hair
Shines like a diamond band
As I cycle to my home
Silence speaks of the days
I chose not to talk

I ride, I ride, I ride

Everything give me chills
But not your hand on my skin
No, not anymore
Winter is coming,
Though winter had arrived long ago.

Winter is the trademark to remind me how I felt with you and so without you.

©Written Frames, 2017


Trickery of a tipsy lover


Am I haunted?

Your memory is still so fresh like a drop of morning dew swaying in folds of a budding flower.

The more I avoid you, the more I think of you as if I am not myself but a figure of the present who revives the forbidden version of a forsaken identity to take control of my will.

I am haunted by the old me whom I have buried long back in the dirt of past; the fraudulent past when we had seen our not-so-proud-of future together.

‘It is not working for us’ – Is this how relations tend to enter into the state of despair and then end?

Over one single line??

What right do we have to inflict unimaginable and inexplicable damage to the rays of hope that awaits to shine through the possible perforations of the opaque clouds of pessimism? To get over with what we have over a single line is cruel, just cruel.

There standing by the platform amidst of the pouring sky, running trains, piercing wind and clatter of crowd around, I still tend to tarry in the woods of loneliness oscillating between the logic of ‘I love you’ turned to ‘I do not love you anymore’.

Were you as high that night as I am tonight to give up on me just like that?


Am I haunted?
Am I vulnerable?
Yes, I was
But not tonight,
Tonight I am without flaws
No conditions and no clause;
I might ramble
My words will shamble;
Yet out of courtesy
For your pride and relief,
Your wronged sword
Of silence and escape
You are accustomed to sheathe,
I ask you to ignore
what I just blithered
And heedlessly said,
The same way
You ignored me then.

Yes! Ignore me
Definite yes to all
There are no maybes,
Yes! I am free
Cheers! I feel so free!!
Here, Cheers again!!
No pain, have no one to tail
Cheers!! I am happy again;
And there my words
With my eyes, they do not qualify
I made toasts but then I cry
To fake my elation
How long shall I try?
I cry over my irreparable injury,
I am at the verge of losing it
And the foot is slippery
I feel so miserable
For I failed
At my trickery
To feign my love
For the sweet
When all I get to taste
Is savory.

© Written Frames, 2017