babitha marina justin Poems

Not once, but
Many times
I bore my dad’s
Imprints
...

morning
filters
through
the door
...

I smelt the sea
(fish, salt and rut
under the indigo sky)
her blue canopy
...

After Aerosmith

I want to tell them
that the last oranges of the season
...

Today morning
I saw a mosquito
burrow deep into
my father’s arm
...

For them
My brother was political
and I was personal,
Science was his passion,
...

I want to write a happy poem
Maybe
about the pond in the backyard
still as Walden, changing colour
...

yawns
aching hearts
incessant
droll of chaiwallahs
...

there was a limp
a slouch and shivering hands.
age catching up with
a man whose youth was
...

no fixéd plans
no intentions to arrive
yet, a traveller
writer of verses
...