(I saw my tears rippling down in the streams
I found all my pains dancing in my dreams)
(1)
In a white uncrumpled paper, I would
I could do so before, my stumbling mood
...
I'll fly to make your wings flap
Birds even dare to ascend high
The enormous space and beneath the blue sky
Our body'll spin like flashy ride
...
Behind those walls, I never eavesdropped
Everytime a chime plop, my glances thronged
My mother shoved hard, I withdraw my eye
And a lizard ran, the blue walls become sky
...
And there stopped everything, every roads
A ghastly flow of wind, with fiery swords
Bloods crawl up, bones heaped over
Half of the day gone, clouds began greyer.
...
We shall not forget
We shall throw away our birthday cake
We’ll wear a smile in disguise
...
I need a hunt
My claws are straight and sharp
Narrowed at the ends
Penetrates easily into
...
I measured my steps
before I waltzes
A day ago that moment came
to doorstep
...
chasing away the swarms of flies-
he makes awhile busy
a crumpled hat a tattered shirt
peeps his narrow chest hairy
...
Those are not my mine, deep scars on the face of destiny
Every verses be it satanic or holy –
A jewel adorably been close to my chest
In a feathered cup like my own breath.
...
My skin is black
Yes, sir blackened by tropical sun
Nothing I’ve white, whiter like
You, except my dentine
...
I ne'er carry anything with me
Some green memories
Crawl all over my inside like a grasshopper
When I was on the way to far
...
Those ancient pagan music, bed-time folklores
Satyrs and nymphs ruse, sex on the grassfloors
Whispers swirls all over, like our modern cellphones
Even the half-bloods, the demi-gods, the idolized stones
...
When the morning appears with all its shine
Like a stolen jewel in the museum again
When the noon comes tiptoe near my window
Like a stranger lost his way and murmurs
...
The day is over now
lands are yet to plough
a flock of lambs lost there
...
The day mistful was …….profoundly shadows…..at the eyes…….however, so sweetly entwined……around the hearts……a ship loaded with joyful trinkets…..resounds at the shore…… stories of mariners…….. harbours a bit far more…….otherwise endness lasts a little……..like a frog’s leap……hopping and croaking……in the ponds and fens…
Now the skyless above…..birds and bats twirling…..black and blackness…….dark silhouettes hissing freely……on the empty streets…..trees stood like relic…..nothing eerie, nothing chic……a caravan of tiny pilgrims……. from the east trundled……dry faces, fingers like red ambers…..they’ve canons…….you became animalsome…..killing your neighbours and brothers…..closer to your hearts….you pleases yourself only……like a leopard relishes the bloody flesh…..the timid deer gets its throat busted….leopard reins
...
There was no one, when I was in the meadows
A frail sycamore stood, with its leafy shadows
Lambs faraway, beyond the barbed fence
It was midday, the sun looked grim and tense
...
Behind the instincts, when your fierce steps trod
I thought of you, you became my thought
The wooden cross dangled, always in my hairy chest
The thud became more piercing, my strength would gone to rest
...
there was no one, in the open
i saw a tiny ant lurking in the rain
before i sway my eyes across
the ant'd gone, somewhere in the moss
...
Born in India, a Hindu by faith. Believes that every thought breeds another and then another and then another.......... First published poem published poem A TREE DIED INSIDE ME was published in The Statesman in 2005. Poems are mostly influenced from the writings of Li Bai- an insane poet rejoices in lazy wanderings.
Around My Words
(I saw my tears rippling down in the streams
I found all my pains dancing in my dreams)
(1)
In a white uncrumpled paper, I would
I could do so before, my stumbling mood
A standalone shadow, when overlaps another
Gets some space finally, like a good neighbour
However exhumed, without any trace to follow
Deep inside so much, ne’er to glow-
(2)
When the window shuts, without any force
I found myself, locked up in an unmined source
Everything precious, well-handed with preciseness
But I dips and drops in a black unholiness
Still something would, perhaps after many winters
I may behold that, without a drop of single feathers
(3)
The paper white as an ivory flutters up sometimes
But nothing I could put, as fresh as limes
When a bird I saw wandering above in vain
Weariness the word I prefer and a thankful strain
The golden streaks and luminous fragments of evening
But I couldn’t capture to get something a little simmering
i'm susceptible to the stars in the sky/I'm incurably romantic
My shadows are getting smaller and smaller to a drop of a spherical black...........
'Keeping religion immune from criticism is both unwarranted and dangerous. Unless we are willing to expose religious irrationality whenever it arises, we will encourage irrational public policy and promote ignorance over education for our children.''