For there’s much more to remember.
perhaps the walk that still embers.
The distinct message at the first sight.
and pin bent at the other end of the road.
Waited for the travellers to haunt at night.
when the moon with a smiley face to bright.
A stroll to remember where one walked,
with hands and hands together at ride.
The longest ride with no where to strife .
The pages had a crack of fork.
The sweetest song played once at night .
Today no longer serves the lost pride.
There is an unread scribblings,
at the frame on front hall.
The dried flowers on the wall lay,
there hung by their choice.
The spiders web too written its sign.
The haunted one by the choice.
GEETHA JAYAKUMAR.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Jul 26, 2025
Jul 26, 2025 at 12:45 PM UTC
My words are very less
Yet feeling blessed
As I convey my gratitude
To all my loveable teachers.
When ink spreads on paper
Moulds one at galore
There is always
Something beyond
The topic written
On the blackboard.
Childhood of innocence
Looks at the bright light
Beaming towards her
Perceives something
And weaves her
Dreams with insight.
As the days pass by
She climbs the stairs at a time
Probably call it a foundation
From where she weaves
Her future visions
Thereby building
The perfect structure of
Precious womanhood!
© 2018 Geetha Jayakumar.
All rights reserved!
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:16 AM UTC
Where are those hands,
That caressed the timeless sands?
Mist came down drizzling,
Like musical waves sizzling,
Umpteen stars cascading,
Upon the breaths it’s mingling.
Ecstasy spread its wings,
Beyond dimensional spring,
Transcends sense of sufferings.
Silent waves surpassed,
Many miles across the thoughts,
Did rise and fall many times,
Before drowning in horizon rhymes.
Calm is my heart,
Cries it not, laughs it not,
On its way of seeking salvation,
Thereby shaking off its stagnation.
Dreams rings in melodies,
When it flies on the wings of ecstasy!
© 2018 Geetha Jayakumar.
All rights reserved(published)
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 9:51 AM UTC
Night unveiled the quantum mysteries.
All the conspiracy plaited in the series.
He knew there was no other way round,
Injected the bullets with safest sound.
Blood was shed from the arm length.
Words of love spoken and shed by night.
The time has never woken up the life that lost.
Does the time give options enough to defend?
Is it today, you, tomorrow may be I?
After all, we wear the clothes of the same fabric.
Mother weaves dreams for her only son,
Was his fate meant to end somewhere else?
Lost him forever who was in his youth's..
Was it by fault or just for being triggered?
Which anchored the moving mob from fear.
Perhaps the same drops holds the lives of many,
Yet life was meant to move forward if any.
Ample of stories to be pumped from the chest.
Who all gets the chance to wear the armor of trust?
Copyright © 2018 Geetha Jayakumar. All rights reserved (published).
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 6:10 AM UTC
There’s the death waiting to pounce over,
Only left is the aftermath of the tides left over.
She lay isolated far away from mankind,
She was the loving and dedicated nurse of a kind.
A deadly virus had spread the blanket over her.
Probably her inner conscience spoke of,
The limited time left with her,
Battling the Nipah virus will be soon over.
She committed herself to the thankless profession.
Had she not nursed the deadly virus affected patient,
Perhaps she would have been alive here today.
Too late, she realized that the same had taken
Over the life of her patient.
She felt saddened yet unknown to her was,
The virus had already infected her blood.
She never knew it would be her turn to bid bye.
Just a day ago she had fever,
Yet ignoring her health she continued her work.
Finally, her health started deteriorating,
So she got admitted in the same hospital.
She found herself in an isolated ward,
Which made her realize she too contracted the same.
Her husband has been just a wall away.
Though she wanted to see him and her little children.
But thinking of their security she paused there for moments.
She knew her fate was holding her hand to death.
Then she scribbled just few words for her beloved at the last!
Only we can pray today is “May her soul Rest In Peace!”
All Rights Reserved!
The young dedicated Indian nurse Lini Puthussery from Kerala needed to be applauded, awarded for her selfless service which costed her dear life while treating Nipah virus affected patient. She was attached to Perambara’s Tukul hospital
in Kozhikode, Calicut. We appreciate the young woman’s dedication to her thankless profession.
The Nipah virus infection, spread mainly by fruit bats and has symptoms like breathing trouble, brain swelling, fever, headache, drowsiness, disorientation and delirium. A patient can fall into coma within 48 hours. It travels through direct contact with a patient. There is no vaccine for Nipha virus yet, as per World Health Organization.
Courtesy Google!
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 8:38 AM UTC
Poverty sunken stars failed to twinkle in the eyes.
About to dip from the sky and fall in the ocean wide.
After diving deep into the garbage,
Pearls he couldn’t bargain,
To feed his ever hungry pouch,
All he got was the half rotten cake,
Which he had closed in his fists.
Perhaps he took a bite and spared it for the next day.
Now its remnants were taken over by the ants.
Perhaps he had grabbed it from the ant’s mouth.
His flesh had shrunk to the bones.
The blood stopped oozing from the fissures.
Often he was found loitering near the garbage,
Waiting to pounce on the leftovers.
Was he an orphan, least not by the birth,
While somewhere his brain wires,
Were incompatible with each other.
He slept in the bed of granules,
Viewing the canopy of twinkling stars,
Yet he failed to lit his own life.
Today he shut his eyes off from the world.
Now the tiny ants strolling in and out his ears.
The flies were relishing his cold parched blood.
While crows gathered around the garbage
Thereby conducting the autopsy of an opened flesh.
Today is the ant’s celebration day.
Enjoying the big feast along with rats and insects.
Seeds of poverty were sown since long,
Today also it thrives in our soil.
Will it ever be swept from our lives?
© Geetha Jayakumar. All Rights Reserved (Published).
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
Wish you all a Very Happy and Prosperous New Year 2018.
Thank you all for your support.
I had a great time with you all.
God Bless!
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC
I came upon news edition
Wherein everything mundane,
Except the name,
Followers were distinct.
Formed by team explicit
To echo their inner voice.
Does it reach as many ?
For I am not sure
Yet they existed around us
Where the news thrives in
While engaging readers in
Colorful issues.
Seeds dispersed in an air
Some turned into paddies
While some into weeds.
Journey began from a trail of thoughts
Uploaded on a paper.
Here words were shaped by sawing
While rivals weigh its intensity.
What’s that special ?
Made me think over and again
Success thrives in
Where you plant as many creepers
Roots goes in deeper
While the sun shines on the bearer!
© 2016 Geetha Jayakumar. All rights reserved.
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 8:37 AM UTC
The blanket embellished with typical artwork.
Winter nor summer the snippet could hold.
Melancholic memories trail its framework.
Its restricted dimension not developed to unfold.
108 beads of rosary I gained in legacy.
While chanting your name I went on twirling the beads.
What escalated my heart, were the waves of agony
The beads broke down and fell into 108 seeds.
I do not want the blanket or beads in heritage,
The spark that you left on such abandoned ruins
Which is now pulling the anecdote from wreckage
Just before my eyes memories were stewing.
What to talk on gains that do not rhyme?
Though mortals attains salvation in course of time!
© 2016 Geetha Jayakumar. All rights reserved.
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 2:20 PM UTC
Travelers of unknown time
Walked several steps with rhyme
Build the bridges with droplets of ink
Traces of which remained lastingly in their hearts.
Perhaps the morning rays flows from her thoughts
Mingles with the fragrance of fresh page slots
She sighed on seeing the setting rays of fall
Verses knitted in twilight spilled from her heart.
She gathered words that slipped from her palms
With stream of petals she weaves garland
When the ink leaves its imprint
Feathers drizzles on someone's heart!
Ink that drizzled from her pen beautified themselves
Passion never dies as they enlighten the bookshelves!
© 2016 Geetha Jayakumar. All rights reserved.
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 9:53 AM UTC