Was Under Repairs- The Verse Factory


Apathy stains wore its equipment,

Corrosion from gales of compromise had it dysfunctional,

Cylinders of creative lubricant dangled empty,

Staggering under debts of the womb,

Worst fears of its crafty artisans turned true,

None could make it to work,

For needles of mediocrity were scattered bare,

Flooding roads of my town, pointed everywhere,

With lamed logistics, a hungry nation to scare,

A stagnant fleet of trucks, dusty with lethal punctures,

Maintenance craved every inch of its infrastructure,

Servicing had been the need of the hour,

Engineers blocked the exit, while to mend forced in entry,

Barred the ailing entrepreneur from notifying,

“Under Repairs – The Verse Factory…”


(Sincere and Heartfelt Apologies to all my beloved and precious readers for being away…

For this pothead, rehabilitation was the surprise gift of this kind society.

With my return, awaits you some white-eyed poetry…



Image credits: http://pretoria.olx.co.za )

Gates of Sanity


Defined muscles of ore,

Power of metal, iron ribs,

Naturally carved Greek, mightier than Jupiter,

Served silent, served calm,

Welded for the roughest of rough,

Brains sly for evil on the streets, minds polluted dirty,

Souls seeking unbinding freedom to annihilate,

It stood tied feet, cups rubbing against each other, firmly grounded,

Angry, ready to take on enemies from both sides,

It drew a lot of hatred, attacks and ambushes,

No matter, it relentlessly comforted eyes sucked dry of hope,

It could never be tolerated by enslaved ghosts,

Tirelessly, it covered, guarded the light on sanity,

Ensured the flame flared unperturbed,

Out of reach of devilish gales,

Blown out of mouths of poisoned vipers,

Tired clinging futile onto the wrestler ingot’s child,

Their infectious fangs of slavery,

Pain starved conscienceless, it simply couldn’t care less,

Larger than life size locks bolted its grip, caught it sealed,

Flaunted twelve levers day and night, smiled wealthy unbreakable,

So thought the inmates, bouncing off it back and forth,

Like balls on the squash court,

Vigor certified by time, it has failed every try,

All the guts and gush to breakthrough,

It wouldn’t be growing older, not very soon,

Rang its earring, ‘Ting Tong’, that sultry afternoon,

Stairs whispered, discussed the unknown intruder,

They respired heavy, watchfully eyed,

Steps were hurling down,

Time to unlock, open up…




(Based on the so called “Unbreakable Detoxification Centre Gates” of the country’s toughest rehabilitation facility, Kripa Kolkata (an entirely no-camera zone))



Image from : http://pasttimeamainebackyardandbeyond.blogspot.in