Monday, March 28, 2016


I sit near 
a clear flowing stream
trying to read
but my book
does not open
I try hard
eves dropping
to descending shadows
from the mountains
but it seems
my password is lost
in a dark lagoon.

Words have taken the wings
valley below is deep
my fist is tight
eyes swollen
tired and sleepless
words are seamless.
They are lost
in a whirlpool.

Why can I not
read my book
for once at-least?

-Meena Chopra

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

The Mystery Book

I am a faceless face
in a real time display
structured and showcased
in a trendy way

behind the cleverly constructed images.

The shadows
constantly knock  
my doors and windows
till they fall down
splitting in sharp
glassy pieces
till I bleed.
My doors and windows are admant
they remain closed.

I am  heedless and distant.

I tweet reality every day
but I am blind to
the silent charisma,
surrounding mysteries
of my hidden mystery book.
I am a viral socialite
standing on a virtual plane
a faceless face
on Facebook page. 

Post by Meena Chopra.

Monday, May 19, 2014


The thrills masquerade
Far away,
I shrink in a black hole,
The charismatic remote leisure,
the deserted truth.
A plunging darkness
bare as death,

and a dot
disperses a line
in a voluminous circle,
folding the fire
a living time.
Images annihilate.
The bodyless prevails.

What was it?
That whispered
in a chilled silence.

From my book 'Ignited Lines'
Post by Meena Chopra.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Exuberance (from Facebook)


Is she a vase
or a statue on a pedestal ?

She is no icon!

Her feet strong 
firm on ground.
The earth supports her.
The real in her 
longs to be 
revealed through layers
seeking identifications 
in a figureless 
formless existence.

In vain,
she searches - an iconoclast, 
beyond the turbidity of love.

Will she find one in you ?
Meena Chopra
(from collection of poems "IGNITED LINES)

Post by Meena Chopra.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014


Drawing by Meena
Lush jade jungles
Tracks un-trodden
Lead into the anonymity.
Silence drizzles dew
The grass is still wet
The sun sets on the back of the camel
Deserting daydreams.

The night unlocks
the mysteries

Friday, March 14, 2014


Digital Painting by Meena
Thoughts immersed verses.   
A rhythmic fantasy  
Pondering in the mortal failure;  
bursting shadows, 
a lifeless poise   
potent enough to unite 
the clinging povertyof a sterile substance. 
-Meena Chopra



Drawing by Meena Chopra
from the start
I longed to be with you. 
Submerged in a silent moment. 
But it was the void
that greeted me,
not you.
Emptiness all over.

Nothing satiated.
Nothing fulfilled.

Ignited Lines

Sensitive fingers
Drawing by Meena Chopra
touched the soft mud
igniting the lines
in my palm.
Sun's brittle brightness falls,
earth evaporates
in a thin layer,
glazing a clear sky.

Aghast I am !
My flesh tingles. 
A restlessness
empowers me
wanting the mud
once again
in a tight grip.

My fingers tremble
drinking the soothing vapours
emitted from the impressions
carved on my hands.

 -Meena Chopra

A Death, A Begining

Have you ever searched?
Your lost self
unfolding those
ruthless cold nights
inside me - ?

Ever dreamt?
The blazing honesty of
my unyielding
vulnerable naked - self
in your arms,