Wednesday, October 14, 2020

On the occasion of #HistoricPlacesDay.


Monday, April 9, 2018

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?

Monday, May 2, 2016

Monday, March 28, 2016

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

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

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.

Monday, May 19, 2014

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'
 
Post by Meena Chopra.

Monday, April 7, 2014

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.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

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