“November Haiku: No good November lays a red carpet of leaves rains on its parade.” — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“If poetry is an escape into the woods, then music is the journey back home.” — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“A stranger lies behind my eyes, I know not what he wants; sells me dreams, tells me tales, then with the truth, he haunts.” — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“When fall comes to town, lovers, letters, and leaves reunite on the sidewalks, broken, burnt, and brown.” — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“When voices sing, Hearts begin to hope; When hearts hope, Voices begin to sing.” — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“Keep an eye out for her, she tends to disappear intermittently, leaving no note for one to know, as to where she is going… — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“When striving through a pitch-black night, if you find yourself marooned and blue, lift your head high and take a sight, of the billion… — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“The docile doves have been mocked enough, by the darting drones that are built to snuff; and the olive branches have been dripping red,… — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“A stranger lies behind my eyes, I know not what he wants; sells me dreams, tells me tales, and with the truth, he then… — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“Friday Haiku: Friday is always four days late, but brings me beer, so we stay even.” — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“A teapot is a book carrying liquid poetry, and each serving brings new solace to the thirsty reader.” — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
“We stole the sky from the birds, with clouds that cache fly ash from the coal. Spoiled the waters with spilled oil, now the… — Akash Mandal Copy Share Image
