Bitter Gourd

The bitter gourd salad is one Of my mother’s favorite dishes, Where she cuts the bitter gourd Into slices, fries them, adds a whisk of salt And brings them to the table. And how beautiful is every section of A bitter gourd that carves out From her outer border delicate petals That only bloom when…

Reality is a Storm

Storms are like grunge music festivals They cause havoc for those who like The country crooners or Bob Dylan’s harmonica.  And life is never a bed of roses, or lilies or hibiscuses. No flower can symbolize that grind That forestalls you before it all begins. Anticipation is a dark monster and the moment after A…

Virginity

There are greyhounds that cut across America, carrying colleges students, Freshers and sophomores, to the over-sexed Halls of fraternities and sororities. Here, you find a status quo that drives Young women to sheer desperation After all a culture that only treats The soul with the respect of her skin garment Crushes the long queues of…