Suyash

blogs from Pune/Mangalore

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Posted 10 years ago under Nation > Political News
The Silence Between the Notes (0 votes)
Posted 10 years ago under Offbeat > Poetry
Black Rose Immortal (opeth) (5 votes)
Posted 11 years ago under Entertainment > Music
Passive-A Perfect Circle (10 votes)
Posted 11 years ago under Entertainment > Music
Afterglow (3 votes)
Posted 11 years ago under Entertainment > Music
Lightbulb Sun (2 votes)
Posted 11 years ago under Offbeat > Poetry
A Rainbow of Autumn Colours (5 votes)
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Summer Song/Trains (10 votes)
Posted 11 years ago under Entertainment > Music
On muses and recluses (5 votes)
Posted 11 years ago under Offbeat > Memoirs
Open Book (5 votes)
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Black And White (7 votes)
Posted 11 years ago under Offbeat > Poetry
Borrowed Scent (10 votes)
Posted 11 years ago under Offbeat > Love & Relationships
Solitary Oak (7 votes)
Posted 12 years ago under Offbeat > Poetry
Two Faced (5 votes)
Posted 12 years ago under Offbeat > Love & Relationships
Always the Summer Slipped Away (0 votes)
Posted 12 years ago under Offbeat > Memoirs
The Highway and the Hearse (7 votes)
Posted 12 years ago under Offbeat > Love & Relationships
All Roads Lead Home (2 votes)
Posted 12 years ago under Offbeat > Poetry
Raven (7 votes)
Posted 12 years ago under Offbeat > Poetry
A Red Tear Rolls Down white flesh (5 votes)
Posted 12 years ago under Offbeat > Poetry
The Room (5 votes)
Posted 12 years ago under Offbeat > Memoirs

End of the Jest
Sunday night is an imposter, The kind that writers wearing bandanas foster. Taking notes on how the sugary sweet sodas he sips, Is a metaphor for nourishment escaping our collective lips. Sunday night's when writers don't work, So they try poetry for a quirk. On Monday you wake up early , To chase y...
Posted on 14 April 2019 | 9:09 pm
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Reaching/Leaving
The day before you came/left, Of appropriate words,I was bereft. I saw you pack, words that were had, Into suitcases of clothes and apples gone bad. You left the keys on the nightstand, Along with matches of your brand. Where could you be going without a key? Were you leaving home to go home across...
Posted on 10 March 2019 | 11:15 pm
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The Sunday Poet
When the weight of the world is fleetingly off my shoulder, I let ink drip from my head onto paper. The Pernicious Poet mocks me about words lost. I do not chose to write on Mondays, About love lost and hearts tossed, I write on borrowed time on Sundays. He asks me, " Will you fly on artistic ventur...
Posted on 3 March 2019 | 1:09 pm
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