>≫≫I Want To Die

Heavenly cursed and heavily sinned I
No more i like to add them, so, I want to die
And I want to become a holy ghost
Whom the people would like the most.
Like the retreating soldiers I like to come back
To my own permanent and eternal home
You may call it a suicide or martyrdom.

In my real home I see the news
Coming from the lipstick coated lips

The Moose

For Grace Bulmer Bowers


From narrow provinces
of fish and bread and tea,
home of the long tides
where the bay leaves the sea
twice a day and takes
the herrings long rides,

Hello, How Are You?

this fear of being what they are:
dead.

at least they are not out on the street, they
are careful to stay indoors, those
pasty mad who sit alone before their tv sets,
their lives full of canned, mutilated laughter.

their ideal neighborhood
of parked cars

Kaddish, Part I

Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on
the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village.
downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I've been up all night, talking,
talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues
shout blind on the phonograph
the rhythm the rhythm--and your memory in my head three years after--
And read Adonais' last triumphant stanzas aloud--wept, realizing
how we suffer--
And how Death is that remedy all singers dream of, sing, remember,

Thesaurus

It could be the name of a prehistoric beast
that roamed the Paleozoic earth, rising up
on its hind legs to show off its large vocabulary,
or some lover in a myth who is metamorphosed into a book.

It means treasury, but it is just a place
where words congregate with their relatives,
a big park where hundreds of family reunions
are always being held,
house, home, abode, dwelling, lodgings, and digs,

The Cloud Messenger - Part 01

A certain yaksha who had been negligent in the execution of his own duties,
on account of a curse from his master which was to be endured for a year and
which was onerous as it separated him from his beloved, made his residence
among the hermitages of Ramagiri, whose waters were blessed by the bathing
of the daughter of Janaka1 and whose shade trees grew in profusion.

That lover, separated from his beloved, whose gold armlet had slipped from
his bare forearm, having dwelt on that mountain for some months, on the first

The Interpretation Of Nature And

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

Ars Poetica?

I have always aspired to a more spacious form
that would be free from the claims of poetry or prose
and would let us understand each other without exposing
the author or reader to sublime agonies.

In the very essence of poetry there is something indecent:
a thing is brought forth which we didn't know we had in us,
so we blink our eyes, as if a tiger had sprung out
and stood in the light, lashing his tail.

Fun-Eral....... [my Funeral; Relatives; Life And Death; Fun]

Did you ever notice, in "funeral", the much smaller word, Fun?
If there was a funeral for me, who would "from it" and who would "to it" run?
At 64 I'm overdue perhaps; why should I any longer stick around?
In our big paper dictionary, many as young or younger than I have died, I've found.

I've no wish for a funeral; burn me to ashes and be DONE!
But IF I had a funeral, I'd wish it were a bit of fun........
for me at least, and hopefully for all those who might come.

Dear Son

Dear son, dear son, dear son,
I feel weight of more than ton,
It gives me worry and lot of pain,
All my efforts seem to go in vain,

No selfish intention to nurture and bring,
Every parents dream and desire beautiful spring,
Wish their son to become big man or king,
Obey them, listen and nicely sing,

A Real Addiction

Out of love
I can take tricks and schemes
But from the beautiful faces
I won't take lies..

When she says ‘' I want to die ‘'
in this world this isa great lie

in heart every one likes to live
no matter in what conditions,

In The Baggage Room At Greyhound

I

In the depths of the Greyhound Terminal
sitting dumbly on a baggage truck looking at the sky
waiting for the Los Angeles Express to depart
worrying about eternity over the Post Office roof in
the night-time red downtown heaven
staring through my eyeglasses I realized shuddering
these thoughts were not eternity, nor the poverty
of our lives, irritable baggage clerks,

Family Members

All creatures are my family members.
This earth, this world is my home.
And at home there is no enemy,
As You know, even the enemy are received
As relatives here at home.
You can not find any fearful situation
Here at home, my dear.
This earth this world is my home
I am not afraid of anybody here.
All are my well-wishers here,

Letter

You can see it already: chalks and ochers;
Country crossed with a thousand furrow-lines;
Ground-level rooftops hidden by the shrubbery;
Sporadic haystacks standing on the grass;
Smoky old rooftops tarnishing the landscape;
A river (not Cayster or Ganges, though:
A feeble Norman salt-infested watercourse);
On the right, to the north, bizarre terrain
All angular--you'd think a shovel did it.
So that's the foreground. An old chapel adds

Oh, Dear Daughter

Little thought itself disturbs the mind
Thoughts of leaving dear ones or something of that kind
Shakes whole body in disbelief and remain perturbed
What would be the fate? Condition so disturbed

May it be the case of bidding farewell?
News from relatives for being unwell
Exact nature of it can’t express or tell
News so shocking …………..

Real Neighbour

Who can be called real neighbour?
Who stands by you in critical hour?
Who carries no ill will or harbour?
With you always and yours

On neighbours you can always bank
Open close secrets and remain frank
In happiness and moments toast drink
Share the feelings and always think

Simple Desire

On a way to temple greeted with simple smile,
So sweet and me to follow for an extra mile,
Steps were directionless and just followed,
Passage was so smooth and simply allowed,

No words to narrate the beautiful child of nature,
No ill will ideas mind will nurture,
Did eyes saw it mere welcome for future?
All quests was to end with complete disease to cure,

Divine Family

Family is a familiar word, everybody does know,
It is a set of relation, can you say no?
The set is just combination of children and parent,
There members of households and relatives are inherent.

It means to group of person closely related by blood,
It includes parents, children, uncle and aunts in one clod.
Family also means to group of things those are alike,
It is too all the descendants of one lineage like.

Crawl

Most babies crawl before
they begin to walk
There is the exception
although underreported
Who walk before they crawl
Parents so shocked they
demand the baby to get
down on all fours
What would their relatives think?
It's completely unnatural

Testament

And now to the Abyss I pass
Of that Unfathomable Grass...

1.
Dear relatives and friends, when my last breath
Grows large and free in air, don't call it death --
A word to enrich the undertaker and inspire
His surly art of imitating life; conspire
Against him. Say that my body cannot now
Be improved upon; it has no fault to show