The spaces between my fingers feel odd
The spaces between my thoughts feel odd
Is this my coming of age moment, I wonder
Or is this a crisis settling midlife in me.
The new people in my life
Are as good as humanoids
That my kids will probably see growing up, if they ever exist at all.
My mind feels like a hole
My home feels like a hole
In a world so absolute in vivacity and vitality.
(I am not talking of the human civilization).
Some 27 walnuts put together,
The bowl of my skull holds my thoughts-
Inverted towards gravity my feet hold onto the ground.
While I swim in the numbness
Of a round pill I had consumed
27 minutes ago.
This headache has a rhythm of it’s own.


Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.

Isolation Isles

In dark oceans under changing skies

Swimming, exist Isolation Isles

Not found on maps

Or through directions of compass

These lands float on unnamed waters.

Barren- white sand that has never seen the sun

Under the glow of stars that burn.

A ragged doll sits beside a rock

Button eyes, button mouth

Matted wollen hair.

A childhood lost in the consciousness of grown years

These oceans have no meaning to the outside world-

Caged in a mind, the waves roll

In dreams- young eyes see the button holes

Of a beloved doll friend on Isolation Isle

The gone years had been so kind.


Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.



These silences have killed words on my tongue. I gulp down a bloodbath each time I’m left alone.

Yet, I crave these moments of honesty.

In my mind, I relive my life. A truth, a lie. Outside, I share this world. But inside, I am alone.

And it is in this state, we all live. Floating in an unending darkness, looking for some meaning, looking for hope.


Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.


I place my words like soldiers
In front of a palace, a fort
Protecting the royalty inside
The thoughts inside
From arrows, bombs, and stones.
I set my eyes pleasant and
A smile on my lips,
Inside, the ground is quaking and the walls are falling
Someone is screaming
A cloud is thundering
Loose dust is flying with eagles in brown skies.

My fist sized world is suddenly open
A bubble already bursting
To the ocean of eyes, and eyes
Minds with gardens and deserts inside.

Fish bowls hold water,
Shores crash to the land.
I write, therefore I am
I am, therefore I write.
And no truth can cover this truth-
A sky over a world that is unforgiving
But a bright blue.


Access prose and poems in my book, “Dreaming in a Fish Bowl”!

Link- https://rb.gy/nbxljh

Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.