[tabby title="Poem"] November passed by.Paddy fields opened uptheir souls for dates with the sun. The city is busy, with glowingstreet lights, showrooms, luxurycars, fashionable men and women. Songs of barren field don’t reachalleys and houses here. Laughter anddance have erected...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] A friend recently urgedme to write socially conscious poems. And I became verypuzzled. I really do not know what is social and what isconscious. When I get conscious, my subconscious revolts. Whenmy subconscious propels, my conscious devours....

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] You’re the onlywordsmith on earth, the autumnafternoon whispered to me. Green grass I walk on, are words.Wild flowers are words.Some pink and some yellow fruitshanging from trees, tell me the fruitsof words. I hear them gossipin low...