Monday, January 2, 2017

Haiku: Yearn

 A kind of slow
wasting disease
gnaws from inside

Until the human shell
dissolves on its own
to fertilize the next spring.

Author: Jims Varkey

Thursday, April 14, 2016


This year the disease is especially acute among Poets.. The affected seems to get choked up and their voice comes out like a clear case of stutter.  So if you are a poet, then here is what you can do.
  • Stay indoors.

  •  Get an award or something.

  • And if by any chance you want to speak, then lower your voice.

  •  Or talk about flowers, valleys and bees and thank God for the rays of the sun.

  •  Make rhymes and rhyme schemes.

  • Let compliant rhyme with the word silent.  

As they say, prevention is better than a cure, So why not just pretend to be dead.... keep your poems locked up in a museum or something and Don’t move...don’t speak...just go under the radar...disappear...

Author: Jims Varkey

Wednesday, April 29, 2015


Nimbostratus with fractus
"Ns1". Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

Day drags out-
with hazy eyes
of a stillborn dream.

Author: Jims Varkey

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Haiku on Twilight-4

When will the twilight end
The searing darkness
comforts me.

Author: Jims Varkey

Thursday, March 13, 2014

Kaiser: A Poem for Children

This is a poem made for recitation by children. One of my friends gave the first two lines as a prompt (most probably, it was given as a school assignment for his child). The dog shown here was my pet 'Rocky'. No, he did not die so melodramatically; he just ran away.


There was a pet dog in my home
It's name was Kaiser.
In the lawn he would roam
Ready to show that he was a real fighter.

He barked aloud when men were at the door
But often he was too afraid, I am sure.
Just once, he barked in the night at four
We woke up to see a thief at ground floor.

Another day he called out to me
To show a snake on a tree.
Quite jumpy he used to be
But very dear to my heart was he.

Then one day he stopped eating
The next day he laid his head
On my lap and his heart stopped beating
And father said, “He is dead”.

But that is so wrong,
To say, “he is dead”
When, I can hear him bark for long
In the silence of my bed.

Author: Jims Varkey

Friday, December 27, 2013

I see the light

At times,
you see the light
but only for a fleeting moment
like when you face the sun
with your eyes closed.
Images flash before you
straight lines, unknown faces,
photos without back-stories.

Yes, I the see the light,
but only for a fleeting moment.

Author: Jims Varkey

Sunday, November 10, 2013


When sorrow
with each weft
borrows thread
to its last till the break.

Last of the yarn
needs deft hands
of Master Weaver

to be re-joined to the spindle.

On this, the quiet side of tomorrow
expert eyes shall examine
the shroud and wonder

at the price that none but the Weaver knows.

Hunched over
he continues to weave
warp then weft.

The fabric slowly coming to life.

Author: Jims Varkey