I stick to the moist damp earth

fearing devastation.

My mouth is full of clay. 

Is it the smell of the soil that I eat? 

The dry coarse earth? 

Is that me?

PORT CREDIT BY NIGHT

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Confines

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
soaring,
valley below is deep
my fist is tight
eyes swollen
tired and sleepless
words are seamless.
They are lost
in a whirlpool.

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

-Meena Chopra

The Mystery Book

I am a faceless face

in a real time display

structured and showcased

in a trendy way

Disguised 

behind the cleverly constructed images.

The shadows

constantly knock  

my doors and windows

colliding 

till they fall down

fractioned,

splitting in sharp

glassy pieces

piercing,

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.

because

I am a viral socialite

standing on a virtual plane

humanizing

a faceless face

on Facebook page. 

Post by Meena Chopra.

Reverberations

The thrills masquerade

Far away,

I shrink in a black hole,

searching?

The charismatic remote leisure,
Strengthning
facing
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
Reverberations
in a chilled silence.

From my book 'Ignited Lines'
#canlit #poetry 

Post by Meena Chopra.

Exuberance (from Facebook)

ICONOCLAST

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 
undraped 
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.

Charisma

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

Potency

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

#canlit #poetry 

Metaphorical

Drawing by Meena Chopra

Separated

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.