poems from the poetry chain


Mind may not heed

Wants no advice

On what it should think.

Some stupid thoughts

Some serious ones

That can make the usual life

Flow off course

Trying to meet the unusual.

Among leaves it searches for

Hidden mangoes ripe

Moonstones it tries to find

Amidst ordinary pebbles.


Mind makes a great discovery

And gets itself a prize- satisfaction.


Want not the green calf length pants

I had seen online at Libas

Nor do I want the ethnic print top

Among the displays in Fabindia shop.

My Christmas shopping list is short

Simple things but not the easily available sort

I seek some Christmas decoration

To hang on my tree before vacation

No twinkling stars and lights

No glittering streamers or bells

Only smilies round and thin

That will remind me to smile and grin!


Climate change will nearly kill us

But not before we humans kill each other

We cut down trees big and small

Mercilessly wiped off many species

Some bird songs will never again be heard

Colours of some pretty flowers GenZ will never see

Water becomes too costly a drink

Lucky ones get tokens at the oxygen kiosk

Man looks helpless at nature’s fury

No answers ; yet plans to save the last bee

But he has scores to settle and wars to wage

Bombs to shower, blood to spill for strange reasons

Like religion , ideologies and nonsense customs.

Burning a city is not great when the whole earth smoulders.


Memories cut deep wounds

In a heart longing to belong

Several years seeking emancipation

From the next second of uncertainty

Poetry waiting at the tip of my pen

To be with me, to give me gentle stroking

On my forehead, until I pour out my thoughts

With all my happiness and gloom sometimes.

Glittering bright, yet they are! straight from my heart!

Most of them spill on hard rocks

Instantly shattering into fine golden dust

I collect it in the cup of my palms

To store them safe in my dreams

And share with the world someday.

The Eternal Mahatma

The Eternal Mahatma (Gandhian Philosophy)

Sherin Mary Zacharia

published in Setu bilingual magazine in november 2023

The world seeks a fine thread

to string together, the diverse beads.

A unique story is there to lead

for his nation’s freedom it did plead.

Keeping his strategies to become a model

unprecedented, unheard of, a bloodless battle.

Qualities to lead- honesty, willpower and punctuality;

amidst them stood tall ‘AHIMSA’ against all brutality.

When the pain of the common man is alleviated,

and his young child’s hunger banished,

Gandhi’s vision for his motherland is realised,

that for ordinary men and women; fulfilled.

A life by itself a message for all times

across the globe and across all climes.

His voice is for the oppressed,

he stood for the deprived and the discriminated.

He liberated the people from an empire; with no weapons

The Mahatma’s life amazes, around the world, millions



Pink petals

Water hesitates to come in

fears the merciless sun will

soon turn her into vapour.

Breeze too busy to pause

spend some time here whirling

the island has little news to share.

Pain filled the pink bright flower

the lonely blossom on the lonely island.

Shrubs invited no birds or bees

Thorns kept off the singing cicadas.

Butterflies painted themselves in other skies

The pink flower left unknown.

The lonely island longed for a footfall,

flapping of wings and scurry of paws.

Ripples touched the shores gently

moved back unsure, quickly.

Moonlight caressed the water bright

rocked it back and forth to sleep tight.

The lonely island cold, slept blanketed

in its own shadow dark, like a heart-

unwilling to trust, unable to feel.

Thunder clapped, lightning drew bright lines

across the sky that could no longer withhold

the agony of witnessing every day,

the loneliness of the flower, the pink flower.

Water gushed along,

pouring rain incessant resolute.

floating the pink petals to distant shores

a poem etched on each petal, deep;

in the language of the lonely mind

of the wild flower, the pink flower

waves read them again with pleasure

water drops wrapped themselves in the verses

with pride.

Nominated for Pushcart prize 2023


Spreading through the soil

towards their destination

they wait for that moment.

Now is that time!

To engage in selfless toil.

Creeping in one by one

into the monumental structure

it is now their dinner!

Nobody saw them get in

No one had watched their work booming

Nobody had any idea of their plans.

Web of disease engulfing body and mind

Guardians turning fickle leaving a culture eroded.

Wrongs not undone but stay to be the new rights.

Alarms not raised nor questions asked

as the edifice transforms into an anthill.

Can the aching heart anymore expect a revival?

Termites swarm on the remains

of pillars that had long held high

the wonders of wisdom and passion

once the world’s treasure chest

now stolen by trustees of era next.



Sherin Mary Zacharia

My eyes search nonstop

when the light around me goes off

when the sun goes down

but the stars fail to show up.

I walk forward with this

little lantern in my hand, glowing.

My eyes search around

again and again, but in vain.

Who was that

trying to blow off of the light

that shows the way to the feet

those had marched together to triumph

in times of nothingness and adversity?

Why was the flame

not allowed to blaze

in hope and unity

for they who longed and strived

for the prosperity of their lives?

Who is switching off the light

at the time to remember

the brave hearts who stood firm

in front of many challenges

emerging within and without ?

When did the fire die down

leaving the moon

covered in darknessof the clouds

filled withhopelessness, trustlessness

and lovelessness?


published in the facebook group PoetsIN for #anxiety #PINinspiration

Mean gazes

from cold hearts await

my every action

I run inwards turning around

I no longer trust

my hands and feet

I will fail, lose again

My mind will wander off.

I cannot bear this

Like ants crawling in a line

one after another

miseries countless

follow my thoughts

Let me

write those down

into a beautiful poem

My heart reasons with itself

through my verses

Must see the other side of this world

where only happiness exists

in manifold

Page after page I browse

heavy books from the shelf

I find minds spinning, rolling

then falling

only to stand up

to run forward