Poems by Lily Swarn


Poems by Lily Swarn



Another year sails by !


It’s only a number

They tell you patronisingly

Age is just a digit they say


I think they know not

what they say

Lord forgive them


You remember your age

When you think of the

twin plaits

That your mama painstakingly

Braided for you every morning

With red ribbons that you abhorred

And the neon green Tiffin box

That you slinked into school with


You remember your age when

You munch on the aaloo paraantha

That you made yourself but it did not

Quite taste like your mama’s


Wandering in your stream of consciousness

Whirlpools and eddies of snaking

Desires fox trotting in your brain

Like pop corn in the sauce pan


You remember your age traipsing

Down the street in your hometown

Where you sat beneath the Bougainville with your doctor set

And played house -house all afternoon

Putting your dolly to sleep in the miniature dolls house


Your house is real now and your

Hair flows wild and free

Your kids eat your paranthas

With as much relish as you ate

The ones your mama made

You squash your thoughts into a puddle now and curb your stream

You eat in designer crockery now


Yes you don’t forget your age

you don’t guffaw as you did before

With your head towards the sky

You squirm when someone thinks the world of you

For you are now a doubting Jane

You wonder if they are pulling your leg and have a hidden agenda

You take forever to choose a dress

That makes you look a wee bit thinner

Yes you surely remember your age

When your gluttony brings up


From those who care and those you love

It’s just about time you aged !


Copyright Lily Swarn 23.11.2016




The Jasmine Story


When you promised me a garden scented with the befuddling perfume of jasmines

Did you know that the world is ruled by humans who are heartless and fanatic ?

Did you forget that the strings of our puppetry is not with carefree jolly gypsies

But with manic terrorists steeped in information technology ?

Did you not read the blazing tormenting headlines of daily newspapers

Shrieking and wailing of homeless orphans ?

How could you dream of an idyllic society where you and I would meet amidst the Nargis blooms

Peeping joyfully through the green of the meadows ?

Had you given no thought to the misery of bombarded hutments and hovels

Lying in pathetic heaps of rubble ?

Where were you when the sirens blared cacophony in the pitch black nights of love ?

Why didn’t you make way for the funeral vans followed by piteously sobbing women ?

Were you still busy writing love ditties in the ink of your Crimson hued blood ?

Were you still imagining the sheen of my henna coloured hair ?

Were you thinking of my bow shaped lips in your war shelter

Momentarily safe in the underground trenches carved out of your thoughts ?


Copyright Lily Swarn 18.11.2016



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