Ranjit Hoskote

(29 March 1969 - / Mumbai / India)

Ranjit Hoskote Poems

1. Landscapes With Saints 3/26/2012
2. The Murder Of The Genie 3/26/2012
3. Travelling Light 3/26/2012
4. Nazm 3/26/2012
5. Shaman 3/26/2012
6. The Soloist Performs With An Orchestra Of Eevents 3/26/2012
7. The Empire Of Lights 3/26/2012
8. The Invention Of The Senses 3/26/2012
9. Miniatur 3/26/2012
10. Dome 3/26/2012
11. Effects Of Distance 3/26/2012
12. Canticle For A Bridge 3/26/2012
13. Annotation To The Ustad's Treasury Of Verses 3/26/2012
14. To The Sanskrit Poets 3/26/2012
15. Quietus 3/26/2012
16. A POEM FOR GRANDMOTHER 3/10/2018
17. ANNOTATION TO THE USTAD'S TREASURY OF VERSES 3/10/2018
18. CLOSING ACT AT THE OLD THEATRE 3/10/2018
19. EFFECTS OF DISTANCE 3/10/2018
20. LANDSCAPES WITH SAINTS 3/10/2018
21. The Archaeologist At Noon 3/26/2012
22. Golden Orioles 3/26/2012
23. The Orientalist 3/26/2012
24. Closing Act At The Old Theatre 3/26/2012
25. THE MURDER OF THE GENIE 3/10/2018
26. Miror 3/26/2012
27. To Name A Sea 3/26/2012
28. Fern 3/26/2012
29. Shore Leave 3/26/2012
30. The Hotel Receptionist's Confession 3/26/2012
31. Milarepa 3/26/2012
32. Madman 3/26/2012
33. Vigil 3/26/2012
34. The Postman's Last Song For The Moon 3/26/2012
35. A Poem For Grandmother 3/26/2012
36. SPEAKING A DEAD LANGUAGE 3/10/2018
37. Speaking A Dead Language 3/26/2012
38. Footage For A Tranc 3/26/2012

Comments about Ranjit Hoskote

  • Joshua L. White Joshua L. White (3/30/2014 4:15:00 AM)

    Really like the poem Milarepa

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Best Poem of Ranjit Hoskote

Footage For A Tranc

The hours stop in my veins.
Evening falls, a spotted tissue
draped across dayglo streets.
The clocks go on marking
the time in another city
where the trains still run,
taking people home.

Over my shoulder, I see my country vanish
in a long unfurling of cornflower-blue sky.
My limbs are clear as glass.
The wind grazes my shoulders,
the animal buried in my voice
wakes up and growls.

Script thrown away, I'm on my own.
The detectives will find me
when a rainbow prints itself
on the litmus sky at noon.
I clear my throat,
the movie ...

Read the full of Footage For A Tranc

Landscapes With Saints

Mean as knives, his burnished limbs
rotted and stank when the gateman came
to call his number. Gorakh forgot
his body was just a borrowed suit,
one size too large.

*

He's forgotten the river pilot's song.

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