Touch
December 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as baby, fathers, Neetu, parents, touch
3 Haiku poems
Touch
your breath on my cheek,
as I hold you close to me,
silken infancy
it was the breeze, or
maybe the brush of your touch,
long lost, yet with me
father holds my hand
between life and death, an ache
forged in memory
©Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
Seasonal Fruit
November 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as autumn, coming winter, Neetu, young love, youth
Seasonal Fruit
in a brief burst
of fiery red and gold
we burned….
our flame
inextinguishable
in Autumn’s blasting
wind song
as it whooshed
past our ears with barely
a tickle
ripe as apples
sweetened by the sun
we bit into the luscious fruit
of seasonal love
but fires
do not last and winter must come
yet, for that fleeting moment
we were gloriously
young
©Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
A Walk in the Rain
September 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as A Walk in the Rain, beautiful, cobblestones, Neetu, Paris, rain
A Walk in the Rain
Paris, they say,
is beautiful
when it rains—
now I know.
The cobblestones
gleam beneath
our feet, as you
and I, our arms
entwined,
inhale the scent
of romance
washed clean
of old arguments
betrayed loyalties.
Nothing in between
but occasional
crisp sparks
of our own
lightning, intense,
tempered only
by the summer
zephyr carrying
whiffs of rosemary
drenched in the ardor
of Paris.
©Neetu Malik
Previously published in The Poetic Bond V by Willowdown Books, U.K, in 2016
Some of Neetu’s Books
Crumpled
August 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as Crumpled, Neetu, thoughts, tossed away, violins
Crumpled
it is just another day
with not much to say—
so I pick up my thoughts
make a crumpled ball
to simply toss away
from the early ticking of the clock
through the sliding of the day
tepid flows each striking hour
measuring listless, mundane minutes
it is just another day
someone ought to strum
the silent strings on this violin
so I pick it up
but it responds
with a doleful, grainy screech
instead of a soulful melody
I just hold it limply by the neck
run my fingers along its shape
and like my crumpled thoughts
I toss it on the bed
there is really nothing to say
the words have melted away
into the stump of last night’s candle
shapeless, obscure, worthless…
just another day
©Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
Choreographer
July 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as dancing, Neetu, shadows, shapes
Choreographer
She plays with shadows
twirling them with her fingers
making shapes she doesn’t
understand though
they are
but shadows, they dance–
she is too rapt in
their movements to realize
the choreography is in
her hands.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
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