Verse and worse



Hi, my dear friends and readers,


     Somewhere in these pages, I had confessed to an indulgence in my own brand of poetry. The kindest of my friends have known and tolerated this digression for a long time. Now I have been ordered to ‘exhibit a few of the specimens’ handpicking them with a surgical glove. At present, I am not offering any comments on the pieces that appear below, other than owning up that I am fully ‘irresponsible’ for the act. Cheers.





I can see you
through my curtains
staring silently at
work worn hands.
I know you have skipped
the bar downstream
and the last ferry
is long gone.
It is cold out there,
a woman knows how lost
a beaten man can be.
You shrug your shoulders,
move a little farther on
and let another
take your place.
For once, walk in,
let me read
your lost shadows.


Prithviraj Bhaskar Shankar

Copyright ©2002 Prithviraj Bhaskar Shankar







When was it, my timeless friend
that you worked loose a bangle
from your brown, slender wrist
and slipped its soft contours
with truths of gold engraved
firmly down my shirtfront?
Your hands, feverish, urgent,
sent me away into the night
with the rind off your soul,
so fondly stained, peered at,
by the squint eyed, sooty wicks
of an entire monsoon June.
Tell me, my dark one,
when I turned and looked
was it the windy rain
that blew your candle out?


Prithviraj Bhaskar Shankar

Copyright ©2002 Prithviraj Bhaskar Shankar


One response to “Verse and worse

  1. Hi , I liked the profile picture; though you look much older in it; you look more peaceful 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s