Mark Rocha - Official

The locket

She gave her a locket
And told her “my girl,
This is precious, hold tight,
Keep it safe from the world – 
Till the day you meet someone,
Not tomorrow, but soon,
Who will promise the world,
With the sun and the moon.
But be wary, for words
Sell for less than a pound
And if your locket is lost
It will never be found”
So with caution she held it,
Her locket of gold
To never be opened
To never be sold

To be continued …

You have to be living under a rock to not know about the incessant rape culture that has enveloped this country. What was once something that was carried out and later discussed in the shadows, has now made its way into the light - broad daylight. Everyday there are instances of rape across India, and the most unfortunate part is that it doesn't show signs of slowing down. At this point, let me just say that when I speak of rape, I am referring to sex that is not consensual, be it a woman, man, animal, or child. If either one party has not agreed to the act, then for all intents and purposes, it is rape.

When I sat down to write this poem, my head was buzzing. I started mulling over this concept a few weeks ago, and it kept evolving. Till finally when I sat down to write it, I decided, I wasn't going to write out the entire poem. In fact, I was just going to start it, and when my mind clears, complete it - give it an ending. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll continue the story, while I decide whether or not this story has a happy ending. Because isn't that what rape is? Doesn't it start one way and end another? And does the rapist know going in how this is going to end? Maybe he or she will get his or her way, leave the other person there, and flee the scene. Or maybe the other person will not take it lying down, and the rapist will have to make the decision to kill that person so that there is no evidence. Or maybe, the victim will fight back; overpower his or her attacker and bring his or her own justice because the system that was put in place to do just that has failed. You don't know unless it's you in that situation - and I pray it never is. This will also be continued ... 

Etsy Sale!

So Etsy has turned 13, and I'm taking part in the festivities. Till the end of June, you can grab a copy of Fallen at 10% off - no special code required, and with international shipping. So no matter where you are in the world, you can get yourself or someone special a copy of my first anthology of poetry. Click here to go to my Etsy shop.


Fortune finds itself surrounded by beggars
Cloaked in the shadow of guilt – 
Wretched bodies of men, thrown to the stones
On which this city was built.
Ashes to dust, your phoenix was slaughtered
By invalids covered in grease,
And through the streets and underground tunnels
You wait for the moaning to cease.

'Fallen' is on Etsy

'Fallen' is now available on Etsy - right there on the first page of poetry listings! No matter where you are in the world, you can now get a copy of 'Fallen' delivered to your doorstep. Click here to check out my Etsy shop. 


Now I lay me down to sleep,
But in my head, I howl and weep.
Tears, like the rain they fall;
Tears, bitter as the gall.
I try to hide the pain, but still
I am hurt against my will.
If I should die before I wake,
What good is there for me to take?
My heart is blacker than the night,
My heart is shattered by the light.
Only God can save my soul,
Only God can fill this hole.

Sometimes, you just feel empty inside ...


White light, bright sight, the thunder roars;
People run for cover as the rain pours.
A sign from heaven, absence of the sun;
The Lord is crying for the things I’ve done.
Dripping wet, soaked to the bone;
I come back drenched to an empty home.
Children asleep, silence is dead;
A quick shower then off to bed.
But sleep brings to mind visions of death;
Children crying while the ground is wet.
Awake with a fright, check the doors;
All is safe while the rain pours.

So it's raining outside. It has been for the past couple of days. The full works - thunder, lightning, everything. And it's been relentless. Just a constant barrage of lashing rains thanks to a cyclone that 'rained in' an early onset of the famous Goan monsoon. For many it's a welcome break from the heat that was all of last month, and the month before. But for me, it's depressing. Don't get me wrong; I don't dislike the rain. I'm just not overly fond of the gloom it brings. Everything is just thrown out of whack - mentally, the moment the rains set in. The energy around me changes; life becoming darker like the skies above me.
Think of it as a paper boat in an empty bath tub. It cannot and will not move. It will remain perfectly steady, balanced, and sure. There is nothing to disturb it while it stands there - going neither forward, nor backward. The status quo maintained, till the tap is opened. And as the water fills in, the boat comes alive, swept off the bath tub floor, and whisked in every direction. As the water gushes from the faucet, the turbid waves rock the fragile paper boat forward and backward till its original position is lost. It moves with the water - at times drawn to the source, and then pushed back to the opposite end. When the tap is finally turned off and the last few drops cause gentle ripples in the tub, the boat finally comes to a halt. It finds a new position in the bath tub to stand still - rather, float still. And the status quo returns. That boat to me is life. When my bath tub around me is rocked by the energy that the monsoon brings, everything in my mind is thrown into disarray. I'm thrown off balance as I navigate through darkness and negativity for the next few months. But when the rains finally stop and the waters of my mind finally run still, I look around me at the stillness, no longer where I was and I wonder; "have I moved forward, or backward?"

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