Makarand Paranjape Poems

All the cliches in love poetry, it turns out, are true.
Eyes have sex organs and sex organs have eyes.
...

Each vacation, we measured our years
by the progress of the new tar road.
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The sky has darkened before its time:
a swarm of locusts,
not a thunder-storm.
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To make even one single person happy,
To love her completely, to give her without restraint
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Before he committed suicide
Magan Bhai met me one night
my parents were out at a movie.
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At the end of my labour
A familiar voice consoles me in intimate whispers:
Don't worry, honey, you haven't erred
In this public celebration of our love.
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The unkempt municipal garden
between the college and the railway station
provides the setting for our action.
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She got a lot done by doing so little;
She said, 'I love you,' and left the rest to him.

She fed him, nursed him, and slaved for him;
She was no feminist but, when the time came, she left him.
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Love always exceeds its objects
which, however great or beautiful,
are subject to time, decay, and death
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In the city of sin the dizzy wheel spun
twirling glittering talons of light.
...