A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)


Giving In

Day#1 of #Napowrimo, 2017 – National Poetry Writing Month 2017

#Napowrimo 2017, that’s National Poetry Writing Month. An attempt had been successfully made here, previously, in April 2015. This means one posts one poem, or what passes for one, here, each day of April 🙂 April also has another challenge called the A-Z Challenge. That is self explanatory. A lot of bloggers attempt both, some one or the other. This is an attempt to explore the possibility of a Muse in existence still, for this eccentric rambler 🙂 Who knows she might find it yet 😛

The rambler would also like to clarify that she isn’t following any site or link to do this, precisely because she does not know how to follow them guidelines. She beats her own path, and her words prance to their own drums. 🙂 They’re the ones who rule here 🙂

Giving In

It’s strange, how he holds sway

Isn’t it?

One call, and your
Knee jerk reflex
Of the heart
Beating that much quicker…

That’s a dead giveaway.


The irony of that idiom.

That’s what you live
Each day, he’s away, ain’t it, gurl?

You could always
Go back, you know…

That inner voice whispers

And you almost succumb

Till you realize,
As if sliced with a razor’s edge
How vulnerable
Your wrists are.

Tender, bruised, slim, blue.

Luscious veins tunnel
In exquisite patterns.

Rank, with blood,
To let.

Till that one day
You do go back.

And let that blood


1 April, 2017


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Yes, I dared.
To speak.
And more.
To act as well.
Upon them words.

Caught you unawares, I know.

Still, what matters
Is this.

Caught your eye.

Didn’t I just!

Your move, mate.

And see if I’m not

I’m game.

The game.

It quite devours. Does it not?

Done. Dusted. Or not.
And then we wonder
What the eff just happened!

11 February, 2017
Online, on traitorous thoughts of trivialities tending to tempt tantrums 😛
Go figure. 😛 



Un(en)titled As Yet

Plucking formless shapes
From the angst within
Giving them names
Fond, obsessive-

You’re by far the favourite.


I tell that particular
Jagged shard
With his name on it.

You shall forever be
Impaled in my heart.
Try as I might
I know I’ll never
Be safe, without you.

To let you go,
Would bleed me

And with you-
That slow poison
Of your affectation
Would consume
Any life

I could own.

And yet, Am I?
Am I not?

I am lost.
Without you.

5 January, 2017

Online, because them words demand my attention 🙂


Coming Up For Air

That cloud burst.
Aeons worth of vagrant
Intangible, angst-ridden
Thoughts, condensed
On knots of pain.

The dam burst.
Brimming over,
Churning, pushing
Them angst-ridden emotions.

Washed away.
Fighting, to hold on.

Till I finally
Or did they?

Let go.


I did.
Rootless, wild
Thrashing, calming.

I let go.

And just like I knew.

I was finished…

21 September, 2016


One Day

And just when bone deep exhaustion

In my soul clamours for a break from it all…

A gusty wind picks up, and whooshes through

The curtain, that partly opened window;

The one I tried to shut. Tight.

And out billows tendrils of not just

My stringy hair…

But labored threads of threatening thoughts.

The “What If”s, the regrets, the tiny tenacious lichen-like

Scabs of memories. Of another day.

This gutsy gusty thing. I wish I could be it.


23 July, 2012