(i)
Like these strings of beads
pouring down the bird wing face
of a drenched-and-dried man
woven into the knot
of a flame rising from a peek,
when a wick turns on
a bearded and bushy flame
interlaced with threads
of smoke sneaking in and out.
All begins and ends
in the mountainous davenport
molding a shredded man
back into the breadth
of seas stretching out ropy arms
swollen by rolls of waves.
A skyglow carries
a light to a deep cocoon
shrinking into a rat's tail,
the rat's whiskers
flashing flooded sunlight
into a burrow housing a mole.
(ii)
Are these the teeth
that have burrowed into
earth's wounds,
these tunnels leading
to the flashed light
of a buried star heating up
grumbles of shredded glows
oozing out
with flowers from the tails
of lorikeets and rollers?
In the sparks
of drawled twitters
and whispers,
when a voice with trumpeted
calls from sun-sprayed shores
ricochets from a brow
in the deep burrow of sleep,
where moths melt life
into a lily-flanked road
ending with mounds
and bonfires of fire gingers.
(iii)
Pulling out wrinkled
and dented cheeks from deep nights
brewing night
beneath the coal-tiled floor
A crater's bottom
shines and beams too
with wriggling silent springtails
that point to life
beating drums as it strikes
a larva's face,
a world of creeping dancers
breathing in red lava
that flies with a cardinal
dressed in glowing flames.
How a man digs
into a davenport's lap to find
a flower-flanked bleeding
river of past memories
dumping its red ink
into a lidless volcano to burst
into a skyglow, as the man sinks
further into a dent
in the oversized crawling davenport.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem