CONSCIOUS REVERIES

White To Black: 9-12-2011:Fire at AMRI

2012-01-02T10:03:00.001+05:30

And here I was

Sailing through corridors in white

And soft, polite green doors

Or maybe they were blue

Like the ocean

I don’t remember

But I was in peace

And that soft heartbeat thud

Of the white princess bed

I fell upon each time

After each sip of orange

From tall extravagant glasses

Which shone like diamonds

As the sun crept in

Like a thief

Like the fairy, perhaps

And the TV played

All my favourite cartoons

And I munched on goodies

Which I couldn’t lavish on otherwise

And then I would look at the white walls

Which drew of how the bird of paradise

Always flies towards the sun

Doesn’t it feel the heat?

Being so close to the sun?

It was white

And I was in paradise

Much like the bird

And I wasn’t hot though

It was only that my parents

Had suddenly become visitors

And they could laugh with me

But only for limited hours

Just like at home

Where I had limited time to watch

My favourite princess fight the green demon

But here I could watch them build their empire

All day

Yes they said I was weak, maybe

And my mummy often had

wet diamonds in her eyes

Like the glass

I had orange from

And I need to lie down

And sit up

And gorge on rainbow coloured medicines

But then I didn’t mind

Yes my parents were now visitors

But I was in heaven

And there were whispers

And heartbeats

And smiles

Every morning

From strangers

And big men in white coats

And then there were

Medicines

And more medicines

To make me stronger

And sit up well

Maybe there were some

To make my mother stop crying

But last night

I don’t know what happened

When they all thought I was asleep

And the white corridors were still

With whispers

And soft concerned footsteps

And suddenly

It all was black

Even at night

It is never dark here in paradise?

Heavy, harsh, suffocating black

And my diamond glass; it broke

The bird on the wall

Flying to the sun, turned black

And disappeared

The fairies stopped singing on the TV

And it broke

And there was smoke

And there was no one

I don’t know what happened

I was trying not to sleep

But I had to

There were screams and shouts

Outside

Some wanted help

There was no one

I don’t know what ~

Happened

But I didn’t want to sleep

But then I couldn’t breathe

So I had to

The bird on my wall

And the fairy-princess I so loved

Were there

When I woke up

I woke up in heaven again

Though my parents aren’t here yet

I can’t hear them

Whispering

The little butterfly tells me

I died

What does this mean

I died?

Why did I die?

How did I die?

???

93 unsuspecting patients suffocated to death in a hospital fire, in Calcutta, on the 9th of December,2011

Sifr

2011-12-25T11:09:00.000+05:30

I know

what you know

But

We don’t know it-yet.

Ajmer-A Dargah in October: Forever

2011-11-20T14:26:00.000+05:30

"jeena teri gali mein
marna teri gali mein
marne ke baad hoga
charcha teri gali mein"

Lines from a Qawwali, a pair of fakirs used to sing every morning, during our stay at Ajmer,October,2011.

White- a blast of white

Pure, bright, frightening white

Goosebumps of light

You fear-

As you leave your shoes outside

whether you’ll taint this white?

Your skin a victim of light

White, bright, power light

Above, below, beside

White, piercing like night

Your very own night in white.

Then in the red heat-And the witness of blue-Begins the trial in white

::Insert colours::

Anxious colours

Happy colours

Married colours

Colours in love

Stable colours

Unstable colours

Dream colours

Hope colours

Aspiring colours

Scared colours

Grand colours

Sad colours

The dargah in white-

now a dargah of colours?

Colours are white

White is colour

All is white.

All is colour.

within/without

Of penance, of second chances

Of beauty and dances

In night

There is no night

In the dargah of light

In the dargah of white.

On the death of a Sparrow

2011-10-18T20:35:00.001+05:30

Stray bird

Sparrowing in

And joyfully interrupting

The mundane In me

Bits of crumbs

Left for you

Devoured by crows

Never got to you

Chirping rapidly

Little bird

Always precarious

But never at my mercy

Your beady eyes

Black rainbow

Staring

And then shying away

Always in rhythm
Little darer in wings

Never afraid

Never hesitant

Today

Under the large

Windows of light

Lay a small soft spot of shadow

You, my unknown flutterer

Dead

On the first day of winter

Ushering in the cold

On the cool
Drenched with the marble
Your eyes sans pain
Your rhythm lay bare

So much like me
Quiet
And yet
Creaming stories inside

My stray little friend

I didn’t know you

But I loved you

And I weep for you

Better than Love

2011-09-01T11:26:00.001+05:30

There are things better than love

Like writing of love

Of savouring currants

On your verandah

Dawn-shine

When the sun is just right

And the moon is hung

From the tree of juice

And shading the shadow

On your walls

Till it is the pink

Of your lips

And sending doves into dark caves

Blindfolded

To extract the light

Which circles your eyes

There are things better than love

Like looking for love

In hot dusty corners

Of memories and promises

And broken sentences

To go over

And over and over again

Over what is already spent

Over what was once constructed

And like an eclipse

With shrouded vision

Seeking only the miracle of light

In a soup of darkness

There are things better than love

Like waiting-

For the perfect halo

And the perfect shadow

The perfect silhouette

Upon your wall

Not your own shadow

And not on your own wall

There are things better than love

Things which lead you to Love

Halos

2011-08-12T09:53:00.003+05:30

I am

You are

We are

We shall be

Who are we?

A nameless wave-

In a shoreless sea!

A Morning Note {16th June, 2011}

2011-06-16T16:16:00.000+05:30

I woke up to a soft-drizzly morning.

One with soft, breezy pieces of grey clouds?

Yes, and one look outside the windows, makes you feel, as if you’ve been washed off-shore right into the ocean.

It has been raining, while I was dreaming, and droplets have formed simple seas on the streets.

It’s not a day to work or lament.

As I type this, a crisp breeze is blowing right through my hair,carrying my own scent, right into my room. I know I am here.

It’s letting the one know, that I am here, and that, I am not alone, and that no one is alone.

This breeze must be playing with your hair too.

Like an indulgent pet, licking up your face, and stitching up a smile.

You are stuck beneath an up-turned amber jar.

A jar which holds stars, and the umbrella which rains from within.

And you have no choice but to get wet.

It wants you to get wet.

The solitary bird on the tree outside my window, the one I had been talking to all this while, just flew off.

Perhaps the healthy winds scared it away.

I don't know, it had put up brave and well against the winds, but then one can't always stand straight.

The tree was indeed shaking in a zig zag, following the lead from the gales.

I had been swooning too!

But then, these are free days.

And such days are dangerous.

For you cannot escape, from all that you’d been avoiding under the mask of a routine.

You cannot keep it down, hidden or under.

Everything around, pulls you amply closer to that which you are not immune to.

There are eyes, a pair of eyes, so beautiful, that it hurts.

Eyes, which will not let you see, other than that, which it wants.

It has the pull of the Sauron, but then it pulls you into heaven.

These are eyes, which will not let you be, they will just not let you be in peace.

And all your control, and your farce at self-composure fails.

Only when you remember the mischief, and the laughter, and the kind understanding grace swimming in those eyes.

You are transported.

I am transported.

And for once, I lose control, and I forget, I am not supposed to give in. and that, this is not supposed to be written.

But then, what is?

This is the problem, with us. With me. We want to share our heart-beats, we want to say it all.

But then, we also, never for an inch, care or want, anyone to listen, or anyone to understand.

We want an audience, but we don't want it to exist. we' rather it didn't!

That which is lost in translation, is that which is gained in thought, and sustained in years and hearts to come.

But those, eyes, will still not let me rest, and they will urge me for an answer.

But what can I say, when all I can do is just see, SEE and stay numb?

These are glorious days!!!

A Poem on Man

2011-05-30T10:18:00.000+05:30

!
___

___

___

___

?

Water Words

2011-04-21T18:57:00.000+05:30

A simple world is all I want

All what I know

can understand

So give me a simple world

A simple river

Beside a simple vale

A simple sky

A simple gale

A simple ocean

Without the salty ground

A simple train of waves

Which don’t know you’re around

A simple rosy fleur

With a simple rosy waft

A simple school juggler

Quite simple with his craft

A simple loving gaze

Simple caresses sound

A simple rhyme of love

Simple love planted ground

A simple gesture benign

A simple smile to please

A simple cooing dove

With a simple arc of peace

Simple erected

A world concrete

Simple corrected

A simple lead

Simply I try

With a simple alibi

To live it up in style

Just simply, by and by

DiaLogue

2011-02-20T23:58:00.000+05:30

You like burning effigies
and huts and homes
and bodies and limbs
and forests and mosques
and temples and roses
and smiles and witnesses?

and then you appease your fires
and My wounds
your abuses
and MY wounds
your adoration
and MY wounds
your words
and MY wounds?

you flaunt your rosary
but your albatross cries
it cries of your stupidity
of creating
destroying
recreating
accepting
nullifying
taking and untaking
it cries of your not knowing.

of crushing roses in your leaden palms
and then camouflaging your hand with blood
you think it will shield it
you think they look the same?

your palms
the lines, the veins, the wires
the destinies, enmeshed and hidden
you rub your hands together
and you clap? for an eternity?
and you clap in front of ME?

You think I fancy this farce
your flawed antics
your role playing
your hide and seek?
(well you dont seek anymore, do you?)
you make unmake,
what you cannot make
you overreach your sands ticking your tired time
your empty homes and glorious shrines
what are you doing spilling ink over My epics?

Being God.you.being.?
Ah well
let Me be.Me.Only.
just fight your own wars
but none for Me!!!
and none with Me!!!

Tittle-Tattle

2011-01-08T13:54:00.002+05:30

We all tell stories

Of ourselves

To ourselves

We all expect miracles

Everyday we get onto the

Manic show-off bus

We all pet fairies

In our back-yard

Where we water golden lilies with silver dew

We all sing carols

Every night and pray

The next day to be a Christmas

We all know ourselves

Too well enough

To love ourselves, ever

We all want someone

To know us

And love us better, than us

We all know

That we dream

With eyes wide open

We all know

We will perish

Otherwise, thereafter

We all tell stories

Breathe silent epics

We all try to know

Ourselves

And we all fail

Everyday

And thus

We write poems!

Wait-Listed

2010-12-11T11:10:00.003+05:30

Sometimes

The window blows open just half

Slicing your shadow into two

Creating moist hazel strokes on your wall

And you wonder, Is it not day yet?

Sometimes

The song you left unfinished

Curses you in your dreams

And you start wondering

What was it you’d been dreaming about?

Sometimes

When you find yourself fading

And waning in bright beady light

You feel assaulted by spring blooms

All the poets, song-lords, word-gods,

They fail you,

They perish once and for all,

You fail them

Sometimes

The candle doesn’t give you light enough

But it scorches you, blisters you where you were aqua

Sometimes the roses and the wispy lilies

They smell of annihilation, of death

Sometimes

The greatest of promises fade

Prayers in carnages of un-fulfillment

Attempt feeble resurrection

But they lack the scaffold

Faith in an empty soul-mansion

Sometimes

One gets caught in the storm, drenched

Even with an umbrella

Sometimes

The sea leaves you thirsty

The sea leaves you dry

Sometimes

Smiles and laughter make you cry

You cry, and you don’t know why

Sometimes

The phoenix gets trapped

In its own ashes

Sometimes

The phoenix has to BURN…

The phoenix must Burn…

HOW ARE YOU?

2010-07-19T13:23:00.002+05:30

How are you? Questions people ask! But why?

Just because they have to keep their tongues paying their dues to committed communication?

I mean, what do you mean by, How are you? How am I supposed to civilize an answer to that?

How I am…how I am here, or there?

Do they imply, why or how come? How are you? How am I supposed to be? How?

Questioning the very why of it! Absolute golden trash. How are you?

Cruelly translating as, how come you ARE, or simply why are you here?

Ironical you say, yes I know, and I also do not know the how of it, because I am still working on the very why of it. And so are we all. Aren’t we?

I mean somehow or the other, we all know that somehow, we aren’t supposed to know how we actually are! We all know ourselves well enough to know the how, don’t we?

I know how every time someone with that absolutely demonic amiability asks how are you? You can hardly ever produce an answer as caustic and as debasing as the question?

I know that all this is trash, but that’s how all of it comes through to us in the first place, as trash, which we then have to recycle and store and perhaps build relations on.

I know every sentence of my piece ends in a question?

I know how I, or for that matter, any of you, can never muster up a lip-sticker answer for the alleged allegation of the third Reich breed of question, How are you?

For you know that this question, in essence like all others questions, is flawed.

Sometimes, we all wish that “they” would realize how we aren’t always interested in MCQ’s and that they do not often or lets say never sustain links.

I think sometimes an answer would work just fine.

I wish the answer is born soon.

I hope cordiality can tide over the utmost upsetting “How are you’s” to placidly roost in an answer once in a while?

And I pretty sweet pray, how are you? Can once change gowns with a “Glad you are here”

And there, the sun already seems a little brighter now!

:)

Never Ever Again in Never-Land...Forever

2010-06-26T22:18:00.001+05:30

The fever of madness

The pain of pleasure

Life is too precious

To be wasted trying living

Am stringing the dews

From the rain

The sky is all light today

It has cried all night today

The glass doesn’t show me

The world anymore

It burns with the mist

Of the carnage of dreams

Another breeze spoke by me

Today as I turned over to the other

It sang to me in tunes

Which I had once strummed in lonely crowds

Seasons drizzle by

And leaves the storm behind

I hide behind empty corners

Lost in the light of darkness

The winged nymph calls for a new day

The stars assemble for the song

The night of time hangs from specter branches

And I can see the sun in your breath

The caresses of your tunes

Strums the many planets in the void

The laughter in your verse; echoes

It echoes through my turmoil; through me

I can see the magnets in the amber

Which tug at the hem of your dream cloak

To let your dream dust spill over

And enlighten the many crevices of divine

I can feel you singing, the earth tells me

As it merry-go-rounds my reverie vale

I can feel you stir in the heavens, when

The rain nudges the lazy winds

I can feel the trinkets of love

Fall from the corner of your Christmas tree

Which you stole from the

Pirate of the never ever land

I can feel that I have felt enough

I can feel and nothing is left enough

I can feel the trophy is to cease in life

At this dewy moment to live forever.

Love you forever

To the one reigning angel

Of N-ever land.

Waiting for a Jet Plane

2010-05-29T15:59:00.002+05:30

I am addicted

To thoughtlessness-es

On choir less afternoons

When everything smells of cheap oriental perfume

And headaches are left to dry upon

Blistering, loveless verandas

Sickness-tanned

Everything is the same

Same white, black and blue

Even the leaves sway to just one side

That too, from where the wind never blows

And another days lies jaded in

The grunge-garage of piling moments

Moments upon moments

Hands, smiles and gestures

Umbrellas, no rain

Flowers wilting without kisses

And kisses wilting without lips

Un-filled forms waiting un-application

A lamplight lies in the day

And the moon wanes the moment

The stars come out to party

And when I venture on my way

But where’s the light ?

No, I don’t mean those halogen apologies

I want to see

It by

Not

It

Don’t shine for your own damned sake

Let me see through it

Let the light lie

Let it lie awake

Untouched

Un-blemished!

JUST...A SLICE OF NICE...WITHIN THE HUMDRUM OF VICE

2010-04-14T13:36:00.000+05:30

By and by

The world and it’s passersby

On a Sunday seat

Beside the fading bus

Humming crowds

I ruminate on last minutes music

The rain is volatile; today

It washes nothing on which it falls

The hungry walls

The scream and calls

All fade with

The last minutes music

My journey halts

And jerks in progression

The humming crowd now buzzes

The angry bee now swells

And stings and sings and rings

Out of the cerebral valves

The party moves along

Prancing up to its jittery spots

The ground shakes in despondent sighs

The bee now hums in numbing cries

I tilt the hourglass upside down

The bee is now fleeing out of town

The rain turns green with envy

Hangs on thirsty boughs

The rain sits orphaned on the pavement

The rain now reeks of empty souls

The rain now sings of tired wins

The rain is burning on the pavement of sins!

Collage

2010-03-02T19:42:00.000+05:30

1

A citrus slice of noon
Glamouring my hair,
Gold-orange, blue…
…green-gold
…white…silver-orange

The light spilling from
the corner of t’ eyes
Fluorescent lips;
Sing of the sun trapped inside.

..2...
Creaking chairs, screeching
the monotony of 11.05 am
Coughs, laughter, petal-whispers
A garland for an orange marriage:
Restlessly, behind… schedule.

..3...
A beep, a screech, a scratch, a thump,
Fingers drumming on the flat green
A reverie rudely ruptured.
Dreams bleed..:..
White-red-black; gold
---
Ivory straws, demolish thirst
Up and down your throat.
---
Heels conflicting
the dozing afternoon concrete
---
Zephyrs en-route my gaudy crowns
nurses a soft squall as an aftertaste
---
Horizon sleeping betwixt our eyelids

A crescent sliver of sparkle
Seizes the fleeting inch between the
Gasp and the fallen leaves
Rustling up a storm
On a neglected afternoon.

Laughter gleaming on the boughs
Shake off the dewy residues…
Of a burgundy night.

Velvet morning stars
Tug at your khakis
Come home
To the reflection
Your mirror
Is alone these days.

..4...

Hands brushing each other
Consciously
Unconsciously
Deliberate, decided.
---
Creaming the sun on thy shoulders
---
The clouds get trampled; almost
Where’s my umbrella?
The autumns almost drowning me
It mustn’t drench-reach me
Till I open my umbrella.

…5…
A swipe of midday magic
And it appears out of nowhere.
Public palanquin
I reach aboard
Being the Moses in the thick peopled mist
Parting it into a new exodus
Though the Nile is orange
Today.

Monotony pinches my cheeks
The sun though corrects it
Heals it…
the window seat is elixir enough,
though sometimes life indulges splendidly
For “5” bucks downtown

…6…
Streets are inviting
But they don’t lead home
They don lead anywhere I roost
A flute smirks somewhere
An excavator breathes,
Into it

I taste it
It’s orange
---
It tingles where it blows
It tingles.
It grows.
---
An arc appears
Above an eclipse
---
And the orange
Now waltzes the gold
The blue, the green
The red island
Beats in pyramided drifts
---
A land has been discovered
Today.

Lost in The Use of Uselessness

2009-11-08T01:55:00.001+05:30

I woke up today
Smelling like Sylvia Plath
Bright, bold and
Unapologetically poetic

The clock ticked away
Inglorious sand
And slid off shameless vertices
Off a tardy Sunday wall

The sun slimed off
Cheesecake rays off my windows
And all I could see through glass
Was bright golden nothing

The winged domesticities
Flew by my visuals in a haze
And nestled upon the branches
Which I had uprooted in my dreams

Of a bygone organza

Sundays are meant to be
This way
To make you feel wasted
At the end of the day

Accelerate

2009-07-04T23:48:00.002+05:30

How long will we
Wait with glass umbrellas
Below a blazing inferno

How long will we
Suck on promises
And second hand hopes
Smelted in an illegitimate hour

How long will we
Be chimed by a clock
Which has lost it’s time
In gamble to a unholy mistress
Who winds it back?

How long will we
Be childed by the fakir
Who has his castle
Tied to a balloon

How long will we
Dig and drill through hell
To sneak a basement view
Of a long dangled heaven

How long will we
Be lured by bitches
In those fluorescent greenrooms
With dancing lights of fragrance

How long will we
Write about all of it
Being too short!

I don’t think I have much fare left now
I don’t think I will be able to pay
For this hell’uva ride!

I Pray

2009-06-17T11:41:00.005+05:30

As I sip my fragrant tea
Stealing the last drops clean and pure
The alabaster innards of the orbed globe
Sparkling and whitely pure
Reminds me…

…Of the dargah at noon in wintry summer.
Where the sprawling marbled divine
Orchestrated poetry with devout rosy droplets.

….Of the holy breeze
Sifting through the white,
And through the shrine.

The forgiving breeze
Wet with tears,
And the current light with prayers.

The shop of blessings,
Where all got sold,
To glory.

The domed divine,
Where all left their shoes and sins
Behind.
At the doorstep.

All left all behind.
With the world to boast.
World alone to weep at the doorstep.

This piece was my piece of heaven.
The white field
Compassed to light.

The white forgiving field
Playing host to corrupted footsteps
Urging them...

Their salvation to be their soveneir home.

The sufi’s sang
In entranced shadows
Nodding to the sunless rays
Lighting up
Much more
than
What you ever thought of darkness.

Birds in restless appeal
Beckoned
The golden azaan
to Calm humanity

Devouts at the bank
Of the marble ocean
In aqua prayer.

Cleansing to be cleansed.

“I bow thy head before thee lord
Heart and head
In namaaz”

And I
In unconquered innocence
Positioned in pose
In my playful prayer
My play pray
The pricest!

Best prayer of my life.

Lest I knew
The divine ray
Saturating me
Prayers answered
Without the poise

I was happy
And so was HE!

Today
A few shoe size older
I pray in uncopied posture
I pray in confidence
I pray to Allah

And somewhere
The same bird sings

“Allah
Give me what I never asked
My pearl
Still breathing within the shell
Unopened to humanity
In innocent mist “

As I once again
Retrace my steps
Upon the sprawling white
Retracing my black leaden feet
To the calming shores
Of arrogance
Breathing in
innocent humility.

(written one evening in divine reverie of the Dargah at Ajmer)

NO, It better be NOW.

2009-05-09T12:07:00.003+05:30

My pen ran a mile
And reached here today
To stay
My pen is here to stay
My pen is here to say

What?
Well go ask your whim
Or peer into the darkest crevice
Which shame can afford

My pen is here to say

To stay

Your ears must be oiled
For what it says
May fall hard and sonorous

Your ears must be ready
And it must be now

Don’t lure me
And dangle me an “afterlife”
…“Poets never die”
Aah…let it be a lie

I will die
Am ready to
To just leave without a nod or a sigh

I can no longer fool myself

You wish

Keep your folklores in your closets
I shall drink of today’s wine

I am not heartless enough…I shall die
And
I shall not sing a tune
To be stored and stacked for tomorrows melody
I shall set it to rhythm
And it shall ring loud and pierce your caving ears!

I am not a coward
To seek refuge in dusty moth eaten remembrances
Crouching in the ugly light of some dilapidated
Loveless shamble of drowned humanity

Ask the clerk
To go back home

Because

Let it be
What shall be
Coz baby
I am here to stay

So chase those dreams away

My pen shall choose it’s trophy
My pen shall choose it’s coffin

And you’d better not or mourn or sigh

Coz it may after all be, a lie

I am here to be
And
To die!

The pen does not lie

A NIGHT TRACE (written in negative capacity)

2009-04-03T22:46:00.000+05:30

I burnt my eyes with the soot
That lined your lips
Incensed my being
With the smoke of your heart

Your mist, your vapour
I drank; I died, in me,
Purging myself out with you
So becoming of you, to you.
With you!

My eyes dazzling with coal
Seeing with black, seething with Kohl
We never saw that night, our night was near
it’s catharsis into a day

The sun stood tinsel high
On a pedestal judging humility
Juries blinded with light
They asked, they sneered, they pronounced!

Case dismissed!

My love lined within
Black playing with red
And it died in me,
To live with me, in me!

How I wished you had never laughed!

How I wished I had less to remember
Less to recall, to fall
Oh I wish I had none of you at all

Now when my eyes…disobey me
And give out in blue, all my dreams of black
Not psychedelic yore
But my black, deep, blue dreams of black,

Shade of my eyes…waiting for black light
My black shining night

Please, not the lights yet
Please don’t put on the light
Let me smell my black, my shade
Let me have my night, let me sing my night, my light!

I shall have you not then
When you fade with light
When you die in night!

The song ends here!

REVOLUTION

2009-02-23T20:03:00.002+05:30

Stop pimping dreams
In the bar of fire wine

Stop singing secrets
To dozing warriors

Stop lulling your kid
With the lust of war

Stop painting your wall
With watery bullets

Stop warding off flies
With ballistic grenades

Stop feeding your town
On fodder from the grave

Stop swinging on the string
Tied to nowhere; from nowhere

Stop thinking in octates
They are not your tune

Stop faking music from leaves

Stop pimping dreams

The Valentine!

2009-02-14T15:27:00.002+05:30

All sweet flowers have dried down
Parties' over
Friends lingered back home
Away from you
The cake's iced in nostalgia

Whom can you recall
Who hasn’t forgotten…
You?

Streets deluged with forgotten footsteps
Traced back to regressive.Erased
Promises turn their back.
Vows cower sheepishly-
In caved lights.

Whom can you recall
Who hasn’t forgotten…
You?

And then when the clock can tick no more.
He whispers in your seeing ears…

“I am here…
I remember
Do you?
…
Remember
To be taken away by me?”

You can’t, but help be charmed
By his handsome majesty

“For love forgets
But Death remembers!”

You and me
Even if we don’t want to be
Together
We have to be

“The grave’s our prom
The graves our world”

A POETRY READING SESSION

2009-02-06T18:43:00.002+05:30

I

Some creaking chairs
Hazing behind a wispy screen
And a wispier whispery lounge of waspy eagers

An inward blaring microphone
Audible only if pleaded at knees
The mike knows
It can give voice to wasps

The mike is haughty

The creaking shuffling chairs
Now glowing with
Owners of hesitant hushed humdrums

The mike now smirks

II

A few verses; few remembrances amidst a lost crowd
Shuffling through precious paper petals
Searching egress
Swing down, waltzing gravity

A silvery sliver of sultry locks
Rain down and retrieve the verses
Embracing ground
Silvery sound

A few dewy coughs
And hazel hushes behind

The verses are lipped out

III

Epiphanies reign

It is smooth sailing thereafter!

Kingdom of Stone:Angels

2009-01-31T11:56:00.002+05:30

Stonily erect at a 90% of unreachable solitude
The stone angels know it
They are just decorations of the wind
Showing directions to the sky

The stone angels drape the sky
With a stony eye

The stone angels
Cannot cry

They cannot cry
I don’t know why
They don’t cry

For those who die
At their pardoned footsteps!

I don’t like the way
They turn their gaze away
To court the sky

Their stony eye
Which does not cry
For those
Who lie

Stone angels
They have wings

But they do not fly

To those who cry
To those who die

To those who cannot fly!

They conspire in stony whispers
That the ones who cry
Cannot fly
To them, at stony altar

So, will they let them lie
They,who cannot fly
Can’t they just
Go to them
Who cannot come

Up So high???

Can they descend from stone
From the sky
Can they once
For once leave their stony altar in the sky!

Or just tell us
How to carve an angel
From their stone!

Mercy!!!

ANTI-THESIS

2009-01-20T18:21:00.003+05:30

It was…
I guess the sun…
Which shone off me

Refracted back
As do knives;off a pumice

It distracted in sparks
But still it touched by me

Translucence echoed my skin
Vaporized in transparency

Could see my blood throbbing
Frantically away from me
Palming out
Out away from me

The sun still sat inside
Danced in sparks
And emitted out
In cries from me

Warm, golden cries

Only the eagle
Perched atop the lowly cliffs
Could respond
If it wanted to

But the stillness above me
Knew it better

I kept breathing in whispers
Each breath sipping me away from me

The golden light still haloed around me
In sunny warmth, making it temperate

It was setting to rise again
Above the throbbing stillness

But then the blue flashed
And I washed my face with you

And I was all cold

Frozen in blue!

Listening with Folly; "noiseless tenor" (T.G.)

2009-01-07T23:10:00.001+05:30

We always said it, in impenetrable metaphors.

Our eyes
Our lips
Our frowns
Our smiles
Our gasps
Our locks
Our moves
Our mimes

Always spoke!

???

I wonder…
…How?

Across the dunes…
Of naught and eternity
We spoke in all languages

But

Of the tongue!

Spoke in languages
Known only to poets
And you all, listened?

Hah!

Wonderment!

Are we that loquacious?
To your automated ears?
Or you choose to be blindly deafened
By charmed acceptance?

How you all listen…ed
I wonder!
Since She first
Spoke with Fruit!

And oceans never not roared any louder!

How you all listened
But never heard!

And oceans were drowned in cacophony!

and droplets shone on stones
the stones you hurled at your moon!

AND YOU ???

2008-12-17T20:10:00.001+05:30

Stationed on the couch
Viscous matador
Only mundane stillness
Only silence applauds

The stasis dilates the pupils into animated action
Reflexivity?
Passivity!
Frozen stillness
Frozen in motion

The stillness stares back!
And you think, you can see?

The TV blaring ardent reciprocation
The hour glass choked with wasted sand
That could have built a castle!

What is left, is creeping towards the hangman’s noose

The lizard looks down in domestic disapproval

Walls caving into the guilt

And you think that you are alive…

Ah well, another dart swept unharmed past the Bulls-Eye!

ALIVE ? O.K. !

2008-12-13T19:34:00.001+05:30

Balancing the cup
Brimming with bright, golden summer
Orangey summer
Balancing it hard?
Lest it spills over the blessed reed

But it gravitates with heavy summer
It can balance itself,
I guess
Neck deep in warm, neon summer
Drowning in droplets
Running towards an empty ocean!

The lights though are peeping hard
Through the windows of our tombstones
The graveyard is set…just waiting to be shut
The headstones placed in urban order!

The end route is planned and mapped
From six feet deep, echoing skywards
Amber kissing erect urbanities
Deathly erect

The light burns
Mimicking life in our tombstones

But the cup still is warm
Bubbling hot summer
Let me sip some more then
Pour me some more
Till the lights run out
The coil burns round in wispy circles
And the dead asserts the life mantle
Pour me till then
Take thee the honour!

GOD pours me more!

2008-12-02T18:57:00.001+05:30

TO HOPE POST 26/11!
(Let them kill, who can boast of no life…)

Those broken hinges…
Open out to nowhere.
The vultured sky recoils in its own circle
The roads dare not convey journeys
The milestone spells out naught.

The wrecked shrapnel
Inked with unsuspecting blood
The whorey cartridges sewn into burnt flesh
…smell of no victory!

The hooded faces
Can shroud all, but the coward.
Fear but, turns upon itself-
In retributive gloom.

The only light that flickers
And seeks linear momentum
…of hope…
The only door that opens,
Is…
In, you!

Travel beyond it, explore it, celebrate it, be it...!

The horizon of life,
Sees no setting sun,
It rises,
Rises beyond life!

Let them feed off the flesh then
Let them shine with sins in the daylight moon
Let them ravage the flesh
The flesh…poisoned with HOPE!

2008-10-22T19:48:00.000+05:30

A PERFECT POETIC PHOTOSYNTHESIS

I want to embrace it all
Take it all in
Breathe it all out
To string a complete circle
With all within and without
Circle encircling all, all circling in
Nothing left out, nothing left in.

Mountains beckon a couplet
The gaseous fluff
Drifts by me with an ode
And more, many more lines
Lay strewn by the moving road
My tears deluge the blessed waters
For everyone to cleanse
My smiles litter the harvest
For every one to reap

I am not me
In a pistachio shell
For you to crack and say, wow!
But rather I am
In every cerebral rationed shop
Just enough for all
All taking just enough to please.

I have no secret
We yell out to
All who listen and not
Our versed sonorous chords
Playing out to everyone
Tune or mis-orchestrations
Played out in poesy

So,

Rhyme it if you may
To ring melody
In your mute spans
Muted by too many sounds.
Crowded!

Then

Rhyme it if you please
Illumine the strings
Loosening, in
The bright, blinding darkness
Burning brighter than yourself!

We have sung it.

At least we tried to
I am singing it
Hear it, even if you can’t
The song will play itself
It just needs ears to applaud
To encore

Oh, sing it.
Am I asking for too much?
Am I lost?
In fool Dom
Oh,then, I guess...
i am a poet!

AN obituary to the LIVING!

2008-10-17T13:01:00.000+05:30

OKAY

so, it wants a name!

and so

it

sucks;

and

licks

ashes!

burns without flame

in cold reserve

breathes it all in

FEELS...?

perhaps!

and THEN

IT seeps all in

in swelling fervour

BUT

can't retain it!

drives it all out

It wants a NAME

Huh!

A name which IT won't even pronounce!

Apprehensions

2008-10-17T12:54:00.000+05:30

I am scared!

I have come up high.

I am afraid!

What if...?

Gravity drills me down?

?

FALSITIES

2008-10-06T18:33:00.000+05:30

Promises old and new
Blurted out shamelessly
From screaming mikes
Atop stately pulpits
Spoiling an evening reverie

Or the immortal amorous pledges
To woo her off her feet

Or those bottled miracles
Pledging to wipe off age from your face
Or those hopelss frowns

Or those gleams of fortune
To enrich you by a dime
Or that happy, fulfilling,
Satisfying, jingling rhyme

All promising happiness prime
Promises aint no crime

But Hope
Curse Hope
Which Still...
Dreams on...!

LOVE = PAIN- :- LOL

2008-08-18T19:57:00.002+05:30

I wonder by my troth
That how along the road
I fell in love with thee
Thou as ugly as a toad

You seemeth to me that puddle
In which falleth the dewy rain
And on a day of flood
That puddle washeth down the drain

You smelt of roses
That which roteth on the lovers grave
You stung of the thorns
Oh! what misery you gave

And your kisses oh my my
Pained like cantankerous darts
And your bone crushing embrace
The choicest of your amorous arts

You sang when shrilly of love
Oh what torment it gave to the dove
It stiffened and it swelled
Dead it fell from above

And your golden curls
When you spread them out at night
Like a fishing net
Bedecked with lices dancing with delight

Oh the colour of your skin
So powdery white and pure
So ghoulishly beautiful
Thou must have been dead before

Your face was indeed a garden
A garden it was for sure
With weeds, and hedges, and thorny pines
It was a garden uncured

And as I cease my love
In my praise of thee
I shall spare you for all others
Thou the unequalled beauty
THANKFULLY...