Malinda Poetry

Blue-sky windows on rain-threatening days play hide-and-seek with thought, eye and heart. then it rains and rains and rains erasing clo...

T he most innocent green dropping down shyly from the staunch   kohomba a hundred vines,  in their infancy, a heart-thread  broken by ...

From nowhere to love, from being to heartness from heart to fingertip is a small distance and the blend of innocence and truth is a super hi...

We grew old together the girl in an orange sari and a schoolboy in white and tie we flew and fell but not together, alone at times and then ...

‘Forsakenism’ Life is about dress and undressing the preference for frill and forced nudity; the wayside flower tryst with boot, the dog-ta...

Time, can it be spliced, made to multiply like amoeba, or collapse into a nothing that irrelevances space and the spatial realities ...

Murder is a moment to point fingers Murder is a moment to crawl into shells. But moments don’t forbid, there is no opportune time, nothi...