sharp escape

sharp escape

Forest. Deep forest. 
I can hear the fox 
that follows the tiger... 
pitch dark. nothing is seen...everything heard... 
fluttering of birds, owls chatting 
stabbing the dark 
i see two fire balls and don't hear the fox 
no heartbeat...nothing at all...only the fireballs 
i can here the smell of rotten flesh 
i am like a piece of cloth soaked in a washing machine 
waiting to be washed 
waters flowing downstream 
without form and shape 
i just woke up with a scream 
imagined a sharp escape 

habitat

Notes in the book..
Words fall like water singing
Cattles facing down 

Lime Lyte

Everyday I drink 
Lemonade in Halloween 
Words sweat in darkness 

A year is just a day

A year is just a day

A year is just a day...
Like a chip in the archive tray.
 
We pass it heavy so very slow...
Yet moments alight it flies to go.
 
We talk it out like days that grew...
As fruits and flowers old anew.
 
Some tunes unsung in silent note...
A boat that’s sunk yet sets afloat.
 
We walked through days that’s so very short...
No backup of acts in the river of thought.
 
Happy sad have days gone by...
Stories lie of alibi.
 
Freshen up for another day...
Until it chips and goes away.
 
Live it up with plane love and cheer!
The day’s here to make a year!

Wall of meanings

Wall of meanings

Right in the middle of a leaf
The inks laid down its say,
They came from a trained wind stiff
That stormed the feelings away.

Painters and writers trying to link
The stable with the change so tense,
Their works gained and lost to think
Of the scratches that made no sense.

Scientists are looking for the dice
Unable to find the funny ball,
In the game of virtue and vice
Stays the still and stubborn wall.

Rules of yeses and noes,
Sides that flow the running river
Are those that run the eyes and nose
To play this nosy game forever and ever.

Good and evil, words to understand
World for its word, gives us all a hand,
For guarding right and wrong
Hearts could melt the wall, so strong.

Never wondered why as people we divide
In the world that's round and without any side,
Never pondered why the world is still with us
It doesn't have a rule that judges, makes a fuss.

Right in the middle of a leaf
Inks have melted into clay,
The wind emerged from cliff
That's softened the walls away.

let me

let me

Let me see
If desires cease
Mirror cracks
Images freeze.

Let me hear
The wheel of my hearse
The curtain falls
Actors rehearse.

that which is

that which is

Silence is near without voice,
What is far is noise;
What's near is unheard,
Unseen without choice.

Image is so untrue,
In between me and you;
That for what it's not meant,
Freezes and denies to melt.

That which is in us,
Seems outside campus;
That which's way too false,
Within us it falls.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

I was trying to nail down
the painter in me,
but it came out in the open just for free.
It had to draw upon a canvas,
Jesus standing like Krishna,
with a flute in his hand;
playing the tune Merry Christmas.

I tore the canvas and broke it into pieces
I am not possessed,
I do not have the right to melange,
I do not have the right to speak,
I do not have the right to offend,
I do not have the right to imagine,
I do not have the right to paint;
I kept it deep inside the wishes.

Curse me o my friends,
Hang me until death,
I'd for the shepherds,
Cease to take my breath.

Yet I see up in the sky
thousands of balloons dancing
free and high
paintings fresh and new are singing inside us
The only single tune
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

climber

Hopes climb up the tree
Full with fruits and deadly ants
Ladder goes missing

The Sun is tipsy

The Sun is tipsy
with a couple of pegs..
Dances the rainbow

listen

Crow and cuckoo sing
One's at home with the other
Listeners not at ease

choice in words

a,b,c,d,e
Teacher sings to a student
Gun, guitar dreamer

kindness

Passer-by watches
Mother loving her child
All are beggars here

Act and play

Urchin faking limp
Actors rehearse for the show
Alms fall in plenty

Vegetable market

Vegetable market
Cooks plan for the courses
Dogs smelling the food

tigeready

Tiger preys walks slow
Moments still sharp and measured
Eyes claws jaws ready

rosogollas

Sweet shops smell of sauce
Rosogollas are in heat
Greedy flies and eyes

gap

Eyes closed half asleep
cracking sound feathers flutter
Thief steals in the gap

workers

workers are busy
building homes houses villas
crows watching on cows

mindberg

mindberg

Peace is for the weak,
anger for the strong;
fighting men in groups,
all are angry, none wrong.

This is the mindset that's cooking in the mind,
conflict is the salt easy and cheap to find.

Winners need losers,
to highlight the win;
if all won in life,
winners won't be seen.

This is the urge that's making all the bread,
trick is here the salt that is mixed for the trade.

Clever is married to power,
is divorced with the fool;
warmth and wealth to shower
for partners in the pool.

This is the taste that's blending in the dine,
grapes that are sweet make up all the wine.

words in the woods

words no feeling..
feeling is the other word
echoes in the woods

out not free

It is out not free
Sun and moon are locked alight
From the wooden box

Passtime

Passtime

Morning works the day,
Sleeps the afternoon,
Wakes up evening,
Over a cup of wind,
Returns night to bray
Like a curse or boon.

Clumsy little things,
Imagine their wings,
Fly inside the frame,
And take it upon them,
To win the losing game
As donkeys without shame.

The circus of the fate,
Entertains the stage,
The chores are not to change,
The dog and the cat,
Forever fight and date
At the drop of a hat.

Sun in the eyes

Sun in the eyes ..
Images reflect everywhere
Snakes coil in the holes

They have the heaven in them

They have the heaven in them

They have the heaven in them,

For years of blessed seed and sperm,

Grown and sown to breed and feed millions

Of countless saints and villains;

All born of mothers,

Fed by farmers,

They have the heaven in them.

The nurtured children,

Create horrors everywhere,

For ages kill with skill,

Shoot and poison;

Borders burn with deadly scare,

Mothers and farmers decide

To break the delinquent pride!

The blue seas and oceans surrounding the world

Have turned red with wombs that once held

The germs now there are no mothers no tremors;

The waters are salty red with anger

Have devoured all the ploughs with a hissing livid sound;

Now no lands will produce food

For there are no farmers!

Children are hungry starving have nothing to claim

They have the heaven in them,

Feed them weapons of terrors and shame

They have the heaven in them.

I do not need to talk at all

I do not need to talk at all

I do not need to talk at all.
A dust of the past doesn't disappear
Hangs shapeless, waiting to devour
The limitless supply of boiling holes
Crowds inside with words and dialogues.

I do not need to talk at all.
There are plenty of plants
To be watered and nurtured
My house is full and warm with air
I have no space to spare.

I do not need to talk at all.
Thoughts are thrown inside
Outside they run ruin rain
I have a garden to guard my head
Where nothing is born and nothing is dead.

Our dawns

Our dawns

Indian dawn breaks…

Weak yet steady waters flow from the street tap,

Clean vessels, utensils, and yesterday’s feet;

The milkman keeps the milk in a bag kept at the doorstep,

Or in the bags tied to a rope to be pulled later by their owners,

And glides away in his cycle;

The newspaper vendor deftly throws papers in the

Unsuspecting verandahs of seventh, sixth and third floors;

The spoon dances inside the glass as the chaiwala adds sugar to the tea.

From many other rhythms unrecorded, un-identified and unnoticed,

Emerges the day, sings a fresh symphony.

Sleeper

Sleeper

I now lie with my arms stretched, 
So you could come and sleep on them. 
They are looking for a sleeper with unkempt air, 
To wake them up, give them a hand, 
And make up for their gloomy gland. 
  
My legs are looking at the sky unattended they lie; 
Where are yours so elusive and soft they cry, 
Come unto them with your healing touch,  
Let the pairs move and fight and love as much, 
Am not in chains yet static still, 
Grounded, cold unable to feel. 
  
My lips are buried frozen un-used, 
My chest is there not there confused, 
My waist my back my face go waste. 
If yours never could come to me, 
I wait and lie look up the sky, 
Uncap the eye and help me fly, 
In prison am I come set me free. 

Yesterday continues to be today

Yesterday continues to be today

‘Aujourd’hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier. Je ne sais pas.’

I read the line was confused,

wondered on the broken intent

of a child indifferent

in many leaving days past and used.

Now when she is gone before the sun could shine,

From before the on-looker and outsider of a son,

When everyday seems today that are neither his nor mine

I break when I read the words again and again.

Days that are dead are dying to come alive,

Yesterday continues to be today.