Sunday, 30 April 2017




In the dark forest where mighty trees grow

Lives a storyteller of whom I know

Ready to sing a poem or share a tale

Of huge monsters and men high and low

We join in the telling of a fable

Age old stories told around the table

Far into the night he would never tire

His sacred duty , with a mug of ale

The students huddle near the crackling fire

In awe of magic to which they aspire

Links of a chain to come forward in time

Each in preparation to head the line

             ©   Lalarukh Lasharie

Saturday, 29 April 2017

Word association

                Poem chosen : Still I Rise

                By : Maya Angelou , Word : Tide


Sun and moon attract , the sea ebbs and slows

It is a dance of attraction , neap tide

They join and crash together , surge and flows

It is a pattern of current , spring tide

Calm prevails and stability , true tide

Walks down the beach , together holding hands

Fingers entwined , wearing wedding bands

                          © Lalarukh Lasharie


Friday, 28 April 2017

Skeltonic verse

                                            Image result for yin yang

                                                Yin and Yang   

A drop of water

Slipped from my finger

Into the placid pond

Awaken memories fond

Scattered in a ripple

A broken couple

Layers concentric

Personalities egoistic

Multiple petals

Hiding the core battles

Intense light

Core blight

                   © Lalarukh Lasharie


Thursday, 27 April 2017

Sense of Taste


The taste of tears mingled with rain water

It is not salty but slightly brackish

Maybe the pain had been diluted

Over time sorrow loses its toxicity

I have tasted tears , tastes like sea water

Broke my heart but that's another matter

                            By : Lalarukh Lasharie    

Wednesday, 26 April 2017

Year 3050 AD

Department of Antiquities

Artifact no. 421

Found at diggings at former SF Bay Area

Material : thin wood pulp (paper used for writing )

Base color : white no . 3945

Script : Ancient : dating analysis states 1886

The only known piece of paper since

The great destruction of WW 111

Analysis of meaning and syntax continues

It does not compute with the modern brain

Since emotional response is treason

It has been genetically removed

It was the cause of too much disruption

The script analysis states :

                I'm nobody ! Who are you ?

                Are you nobody too ? *

It will have the pride of place at :

The Museum of Antiquities

                   * Emily Dickinson

                                           By : Lalarukh Lasharie

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

Poetics of Space


                                         My Space  

It is three feet wide and five feet in length

My haven to meditate and my space

During time of trauma family birth

At times of dear ones in need of solace

When death happens , for some quiet acceptance

At times of celebration , happiness

When I want to remember for instance

Times which floated away and were flawless

Happy times to recollect and recount

Times to be stress free , become whole again

All drawn to such spaces to give account

Where peace can prevail and worries can drain

Its just three feet wide and five feet in length

Go there in times of renewal and death

                         * Form : Shakespearean Sonnet

                                                   By : Lalarukh Lasharie

Sunday, 23 April 2017



Writes poems
From her imagination
Builds pictures open eyes

Beautiful thoughts
Formed by imagination
Converted to tangible form

           Lalarukh Lasharie

Saturday, 22 April 2017

Japanese Choka

                                                  Shinto Myth  

Izanagi in

white robes did glow in goodness

master of the sky

keeper of the divine light

Izanami in

black robes radiated dark

mistress of the earth

They walked down the rainbow

To make Japan of today

                        By : Lalarukh Lasharie

Friday, 21 April 2017

Overheard Phrase


It was heard five times a day every day

We were called to come together to pray

In my childhood , part of accepted fact

With God a closeness an enduring pact

Allah - o - Akbar

Now over time a different usage

Part of a picture of pain and outrage

Stoning of Mashal in a fever , rage

Mob rule and uncontrollable carnage

Allah - o - Akbar

The next generation of believers

May your memories remain forever

Untainted and innocent over time

Never see pain and grief in your lifetime

Allah - o - Akbar

Do not use my Gods name in vain

This has to stop ! This is insane !

Allah - o - Akbar

                * Mashal Khan killed by stoning by his peers

                   Student of Abdul Wali Khan University April 13 , 2017

                                                               By : Lalarukh Lasharie

Wednesday, 19 April 2017



When the world can be in your palm

But stay ! It is not yours or mine

But of humans since time immemorial

When did we get the right to create ?

Wordsworth speaking to nature

Marcel Duchamp's urinal

Van Gogh's sunflowers and Homer's Iliad

The creator reaching out to Micheal Angelo

Keats his odes and Shakespeare his worlds

The wasteland , red wheelbarrow , green glass

Is it delusion or suspension of disbelief

When anything and everything is possible ?

                                  Lalarukh Lasharie


Tuesday, 18 April 2017



Sulicious spread of passerts

Passing on asslines

I mubble and drilurp

Until totuffed !

Sulicious :  Super + delicious

passert     : Pastry + dessert

asslines    : assembly lines

mubble    : munch + gobble

drilurp    : drink + slurp

totuffed  : totally stuffed

Monday, 17 April 2017




In the night when the winds whisper and blow

Shadows sway and dance in my dark bedroom

A paper moon swings among the branches

I rise up, look down on myself sleeping

Pirouette with my floating ballet troupe

They dissolve and vanish but reappear

Turn into a mist , slide through a window

Become a fairy light in the garden

Twinkle and shimmer on purple violets

Throw a lasso on stars , pull them nearer

Rise up and glide on the billowing cloud

Reaching up to perch on the crescent moon

Doze off and tumble down slip into clouds

Bump on stars , land among the dancing lights

Into my soft bed , inside my body

                         by : Lalarukh Lasharie


                        To BIG PHARMA

Dear Sir , its good to know you are doing so well

It must be due to the prayers you have collected

After all you are in the business to save lives

People live longer but do not have better lives

After all who can earn from a dead patient ?

Can we say Sir , you are in the business of extending misery ?

How is it that natural remedies do not get funding ?

Any new or cheaper drug never gets to see the light of day ?

Because you Sir are in the business of taking not giving !

How jealously you guard your drug compositions

God help the company which makes a cheaper version

You are in the business of safe guarding your brand

God help the person who can't afford it

Because you can never help the needy

You Sir are in the business of making money !

                         Lalarukh Lasharie

Saturday, 15 April 2017




Stopping where the twin rivers flow

The banks on which moss and ferns grow

Peaceful calm , a time to reflect

Image dissolves I recollect

Peeping through half open doorway

Tender moments happy thoughts lay

I try to push the door open

My future which will soon happen

I feel chilled to my bone

Life a mystery in monotone

My life poem I tear and throw

In the rivers turbulent flow

I resume my journey forward

One step a time slowly onward

                   Draft : Lalarukh Lasharie

Friday, 14 April 2017




Donald John Trump

Got his policies in a dump

At Mar a Lago he fluted and made a grab

For some missiles and a MOAB


Thursday, 13 April 2017




A lone figure forlorn on the hilltop , her black dress trailing collecting thorns dust

Bare feet bleeding running on jagged rocks , her eyes comb the horizon searchingly

Old crones speak of her having no lover , young ones say she is longing for her God

When will her everlasting vigil end ,what is her salvation from endless toil

Urchins follow her throwing stones stepping , on her swaying headscarf frayed and torn

With their pulling and pushing bareheaded , she stands naked unable to cover

Where does she go to find shelter a roof ,world strife has made a hopeless refugee

Her face reflects a past of happy days , now a scum of the earth lost forever

Her cries fill the earth and skies with Laly , a never-ending vigil her story

Come and help me save me from a world that is too much for my  waning sanity

                    Draft : Lalarukh Lasharie

                    Laly means blood red ( my Takhalas )

Wednesday, 12 April 2017



                                      Haiku  1

Light reflects on red

Lily twinkles on  hill-locks

All undulating

                                  Haiku   2

Woven body silk

Cocoon over and done with

Transforms into moth

                            Literary devices : alliteration and assonance 

                            Draft : Lalarukh Lasharie

Tuesday, 11 April 2017



Writing a Bop is never sublime

The name Bop makes me hopping mad

What can a poem be which is a Bop ?

The poem is shallow the rhyme denied

The muses would have a fit if made to do a Bop

How oh how can a poem be a Bop

Poems are created with a bit of magic

I guess that did not do it for me

A creator never blames his tools

God never said , Sorry , the mould was wrong !

Or , Gabriel forgot to measure the clay !

Lets take a new leaf and start again

How can a Bop be a poem?

Knead it and pat it and mark it with ' P '

Put it in the cauldron for you and me

Poems are created with a bit of magic

A bit of pathos can make it tragic

A pinch of humor would be strategic

No matter how hard I try it looks myopic

Me thinks this poem needs a bit of logic

And the rhymes are turning hypnotic

Its got to stop before I become allergic

Poems are created with a bit of magic

                           Draft: by Lalarukh Lasharie

Monday, 10 April 2017



                                         THREE SISTERS

It is never easy to be a first born

Ebony curls , happy smile her face adorn

Belle of the ball , she can play sing and dance

Excels in all challenges an earth-born

Middle is the link that binds , the balance

Long silky hair and doe eyes her face enhance

Achiever of goals quick to reach the top

Now carries an aura of radiance

Youngest an adorable imp , atop

Walls and roofs getting into scrapes non-stop

Fashionista , unique non-conformer

Fans dance to her tune until ears go pop

                            Draft : by Lalarukh Lasharie

                            Form : Interlocking Rubaiyat

Sunday, 9 April 2017

Balassi Stanza

                               Roll Of The Dice

Hardly ever do things

Move your own way on wings

But slow down to a dead end

Watch the roll of the dice

Pay the difficult price

But fate can stop and pretend

To seem a leveler

Eye the mighty dealer

The odds can improve and mend  

                     Draft by Lalarukh Lasharie

Saturday, 8 April 2017

Lost and Found


It was with me while travelling out of Upper East Side

Through trees showering blossoms in Central Park

But near the entrance of Harlem , it struck me ,

The earth shaking discovery , I was holding ,

Seriously but I was ! A straw satchel

Where was my Birkin ?

As I stepped into those haloed halls I knew I had made it

The salespersons fawned and simpered

You know Madam we always keep them in special rooms

Air-conditioners and humidifiers so there is no spoilage

Or did he say dehumidifier ? I was too over the moon

Anyway he was wearing special soft gloves

Brought out a box , put it on the table

Started removing paper wrappings , cloth wrappings

Gently took out the baby so we could fall in love

He presented the red crocodile to me !

What should I do?

Call the Police ?

How will my friends in UES react ?

I felt so diminished !

But we were by than on home ground

There was no sign of the straw satchel

The Birkin was on my lap

And all was well with my world

                        Draft by Lalarukh Lasharie

Thursday, 6 April 2017



          He hunts from the sky

         Blood eyes pierce and pin the prey

        Claws strike the death blow

                     Japanese Haiku 5 / 7 / 5

                    Draft by Lalarukh Lasharie


Wednesday, 5 April 2017



Trees outside my window

masses of awakened green leaves

sunlight filters through

light on verdant forest

in stain glass .

Myriad of green

which the sun shows

when the moon glows

where the rain flows

while the wind blows .

Lush grass swaying in the breeze 

twisting and turning

shedding unwanted skin .

                  Draft by Lalarukh Lasharie


Saturday, 1 April 2017



Its never the same
when a country gets
lost in transition.
When to recall is sublime ,
moving forward a miasma .
Knowing what is done ,
cannot be undone .
How dutifully ,
we watch it , pass by ,
forceful destruction
of our liberties
and humanity .