How can one run out of
the sun, moon, and the rain?
The poet assures himself,
sitting by the quay
drenched in mud and paper
beginning to trash his voice
(in split-syllables of cry).
Just then he sights
a stripling playing flute
to the passing flamingos
in broken silences
of the vehement tide.
He pounces on the artist
staging a relentless ballet of fingers
in staid, stainless afternoon
over his clumsy shadow.
"What inspires you to play
against the writhe of Boiling May?
Her memories! Where are they?
Stranded on the roads that have drifted
her away?"
And explains the thirsty urchin
in half-notes of composite smiles –
about her memories resident
in the bounties of his fist,
of bridges built to jump
from one finger to another,
of a fragrance hidden behind
the minarets of his collar –
Occurring and recurring
like melody in a tome,
bringing him her chuckles
through carriages of love.
Feb 28, 2010
Feb 22, 2010
A portrait.
I draw you in the moss-devoured
face of the lake.
Can you see my fingers
reaching out for your eye-lashes?
In the neon clouds of slate
Twitch- your eye-lids
falling like stars on my palms;
Drowning all the sky
that water once contained.
face of the lake.
Can you see my fingers
reaching out for your eye-lashes?
In the neon clouds of slate
Twitch- your eye-lids
falling like stars on my palms;
Drowning all the sky
that water once contained.
Feb 20, 2010
Evening
Brightly lit like a bride
walking tip-toe
over waning shadows
Silently in her drape
that falls over the sky.
walking tip-toe
over waning shadows
Silently in her drape
that falls over the sky.
A Verse
Words grow like cotton-balls,
In the Springfield of your hair
words, with no hands and feet
Crawling on my back
like rivers on the map
Drawing you in my pale memory
as i recall the last moon i saw.
Words, scatter as i bring them on
like dust of the forest fire
words that sweetly glance
the way infants look at,
every passing balloon
Leading me to the roads you take,
as i greet my journey tonight.
In the Springfield of your hair
words, with no hands and feet
Crawling on my back
like rivers on the map
Drawing you in my pale memory
as i recall the last moon i saw.
Words, scatter as i bring them on
like dust of the forest fire
words that sweetly glance
the way infants look at,
every passing balloon
Leading me to the roads you take,
as i greet my journey tonight.
Feb 11, 2010
what's up?
shadows fall upon road,
sherlock picks up the phone
vessels scathe,
slayed is the house
spouse, your maverick spouse!
bus-wheels screech
clock-towers preach
one o one at night to five
and hounds..
circle city parks
like cops on chloroform
in the societal trash
of plastic toys and plastic cash
streets weep, sweepers merry
wild goose, wilder berry
forests hide in clouds of smoke
smoke, smoke-0-choke
and buildings..
with long nose
like a queen riding
on haughty toes
wearing botox in her slim wrist
caging dreams in her fist
dreams cooked in,
fast-food oil
brought to you by
the delivery boy
sherlock picks up the phone
vessels scathe,
slayed is the house
spouse, your maverick spouse!
bus-wheels screech
clock-towers preach
one o one at night to five
and hounds..
circle city parks
like cops on chloroform
in the societal trash
of plastic toys and plastic cash
streets weep, sweepers merry
wild goose, wilder berry
forests hide in clouds of smoke
smoke, smoke-0-choke
and buildings..
with long nose
like a queen riding
on haughty toes
wearing botox in her slim wrist
caging dreams in her fist
dreams cooked in,
fast-food oil
brought to you by
the delivery boy
incantation
in the hour-glass of life,
time slips by,
like river from the edge of the hill
like hill from the edge of the sky
with shiny silvery eye
Noiseless like hymns and echoes of a broken bridge,
noiseless, just you and me
in the chest of a giddy night
in the night of a giddy tide
purple our incantation be
time slips by,
like river from the edge of the hill
like hill from the edge of the sky
with shiny silvery eye
Noiseless like hymns and echoes of a broken bridge,
noiseless, just you and me
in the chest of a giddy night
in the night of a giddy tide
purple our incantation be
Feb 6, 2010
the soft thoughts of you,
in the sun-burnt mind of me
wind, breeze, zephyr,
wind, breeze, zephyr
sometimes a fragrance,
in the blue fields of sky
moist and mercurial
moist and mercurial
like the talking rubies
in the cradle of your nape
words and pearls
words and pearls
exuded from the chestnut
of your cherry-bright heart
in the sun-burnt mind of me
wind, breeze, zephyr,
wind, breeze, zephyr
sometimes a fragrance,
in the blue fields of sky
moist and mercurial
moist and mercurial
like the talking rubies
in the cradle of your nape
words and pearls
words and pearls
exuded from the chestnut
of your cherry-bright heart
Feb 4, 2010
Feb 1, 2010
on the loop
The lines that follow are fleeting bubbles of a recollected cognition.
1. A new year is a new year even in the absence of merriment and pompous welcome
2. Tears are cowardly bastards that refuse to show up when summoned
3. Metal is good, the videos are not.
4. the desire of building a tree-house has steeped in course of multiple trips undertaken in the recent past
5. Dogs compulsively isolate themselves in their exiting moments. By this logic they become more profound than those on two-legs
6. writing letter is as necessary and beneficial as sky gazing on a full moon night
7. Facebook ensures you don't turn into a dim turd.
8. Love exposure is good for most part of the film
9. I have lost the stomach for binge-booze
10. John Lenon is a dude but Jim Morrison is an enigma
11. Southpark is not wrongfully hyped and eric cartman has a cute arse
12. A 17 rupee bus ticket to mahabalipuram kicks the butt of an average auto-ride worth 70 bucks for a one way rise
13. Bonne and clyde are coolest couple that have been around
14. Shoplifting is a foolproof mood-enhancer
15. Lucid dreams are irresistible
16. Dumb callers should be quarantined all together
17. A bloated fish possesses secret of the universe
18. fantasies are the only existential truth
19. crackers allow guilt-less binging
20. i have stopped missing people altogether and stop responding to those who claim to miss
21. Golu, the campus dog is not my foster-kid because I'm wheatish and he's white
22. Big words turn a writer into monopolist, fundamentalist too
23. blowing nose while bathing is a bad idea when you share room with three more who;re now forced to wake up at the same time
24. i cannot sustain fear of politics for the sheer unavailability of this philia
25. i should write more than a jabber of grammar-humiliating lines.
26. People think I'm nimble, i let them be
27. sleeping on an operational laptop is pure bliss.
28. Auroville, is haven for bohemians to paint themselves in colours and threads
29. jeanette winterson is the mommy of magic-realism
30. all this is crass
1. A new year is a new year even in the absence of merriment and pompous welcome
2. Tears are cowardly bastards that refuse to show up when summoned
3. Metal is good, the videos are not.
4. the desire of building a tree-house has steeped in course of multiple trips undertaken in the recent past
5. Dogs compulsively isolate themselves in their exiting moments. By this logic they become more profound than those on two-legs
6. writing letter is as necessary and beneficial as sky gazing on a full moon night
7. Facebook ensures you don't turn into a dim turd.
8. Love exposure is good for most part of the film
9. I have lost the stomach for binge-booze
10. John Lenon is a dude but Jim Morrison is an enigma
11. Southpark is not wrongfully hyped and eric cartman has a cute arse
12. A 17 rupee bus ticket to mahabalipuram kicks the butt of an average auto-ride worth 70 bucks for a one way rise
13. Bonne and clyde are coolest couple that have been around
14. Shoplifting is a foolproof mood-enhancer
15. Lucid dreams are irresistible
16. Dumb callers should be quarantined all together
17. A bloated fish possesses secret of the universe
18. fantasies are the only existential truth
19. crackers allow guilt-less binging
20. i have stopped missing people altogether and stop responding to those who claim to miss
21. Golu, the campus dog is not my foster-kid because I'm wheatish and he's white
22. Big words turn a writer into monopolist, fundamentalist too
23. blowing nose while bathing is a bad idea when you share room with three more who;re now forced to wake up at the same time
24. i cannot sustain fear of politics for the sheer unavailability of this philia
25. i should write more than a jabber of grammar-humiliating lines.
26. People think I'm nimble, i let them be
27. sleeping on an operational laptop is pure bliss.
28. Auroville, is haven for bohemians to paint themselves in colours and threads
29. jeanette winterson is the mommy of magic-realism
30. all this is crass
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