How The World Sulks

in the heat

like an animal

it’s too much

these dull periods

too heavy

makes me think

of life as garbage

rotten fruit peel

waste excreta

mud dirty napkins

and soiled paper

all this and then the noise

see how the vehicles go screeching

down the sky

and the birds how they fly scared

hurrying home

and the faces of the people

O it is just too much

the way the windows look

any moment now

a shard of glass

could turn you

to a piece of blobbing

blood and bone

you will go down

like everyone else

you will feel like a lame blind dog

you will smell

and you will

lose yourself

in the ensuing chaos

there you are

I see you

your bloodied body

almost gone

no arms

no legs

no torso

your face

fading away

your eyes

beginning

to close.

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She

folded back

into herself

a page crumpled

and lost

in some bag or box

from this darkness

she mumbled

how much the world has changed…

how much the world has changed…

my old neighbour doddered into

my living room

she had got locked out of her house

I’ve been here before she said

yes many times I told her you’ve forgotten…

the drain in my house started gurgling then

like it was trying to say something

for long it thundered

then went quiet

when the old lady left

there were just the empty chairs and me…

and the afternoon fled into the night.

 

The above poem is from my second book Circling the Sky (2013).

My Mind

has grown thin

like smoke

words are water

planting

words

that grow

in the silence

some become poems

some fade away.

 

The above poem is from my first book Reeling (2012).

It Is Too Silly

of these buildings

to come visiting

across the garden

when childhood

and youth

have gone

when middle age

has taken residence

in my body

giving me hypertension

now it’s that rocket

in the middle

of that garden

that knocks

on my mind

reminding me

of my boy glimpse

into the atmosphere

the world beyond

the sky

I could not see

well it’s that same world

where I’d like to be

O woe is me

I’m an old monkey

hanging from a tree.

My Mind Has Bitten

on a big thought

with that in its mouth

it has slumped

heavy

in a corner

the thought talks its own talk

words grow out of it

building

collapsing

my mind desperately tries to reach someplace

divided in itself

disappearing

under its own weight.

 

The above poem is from my second book Circling the Sky (2013).

See The Dream

won’t go

see the sparrow

sitting on the grass

hopping onto the railings

and then over the grey road

to someone’s kitchen window.

What I’m trying to say is that

it is better to know this

when the heavy evening

having lost her happiness

comes to you

there quiet in your bed

it lays down in

the dark with you

then you know the meaning

of sorrow

the day changing its clothes

bored

and the stars racing in the sky

having outrun your sleep

see how this world drifts

unmoored

and when you wake in the

morning

the sparrow comes and

tells you this

then how easily

the whole thing

becomes a song

just like that

how the planes of joy

crisscross the sky

how the mind once again

comes home

and dances

delighted.

 

The above poem is from my first book Reeling (2012).

Now This Hot October Day

is bad

it will not let me think

it leaves me here

sitting stupid

and sad

I will not have this

I think of trees

and remember the time

I first encountered

a squirrel

and my wonder

at it

in the cool morning

behind my house

where I stood on

ground covered in golden laburnum

and the squirrel

grey fluffy cute

with black stripes

climbing up the tree

pointing into the blue sky

I look at the birds flying

small black ones

in flocks

and I know

I am one of them

I feel what they feel

I feel the wind on my body

and I know I am home

in this vast dome

and now as I write

the squirrel runs out of sight.

Everyone Loves The Sea

I had two old beds;

their headboards

of blue sun mica

were the most beautiful

things in the world.

 

There’s World War II

over the lime-washed buildings;

you can see the fighter planes,

the pilots in their

helmets and goggles at night…

 

Broken, shabby houses…

run-down bars

animal people talk…

 

Naked men and women,

emaciated, speaking

some strange language

join us in the streets…

 

In the morning when I wake

I notice the sky has backed

deeper and deeper

into silence…

 

 

The above poem is from my second book Circling the Sky (2013).

All Day

I thought

and turned

into glass

by evening

the world

couldn’t get

more mischievous

than this

I thought

and realised

that you didn’t

really get much

not even sleep

which conjurer

of black airs

broke nothing

into this

I wondered

all night

till I turned

to stone.

 

The above poem is from my first book Reeling (2012).

Sunrise In Vattakanal

It is 6.40 am

and the bright golden sun

is climbing up the sky

outside my window here

in Vattakanal

the blue Nilgiri mountains stand in mist

from the far left along a wet rockface

to the deep distance

a conical mountaintop

framing the scene

from there the Nilgiris flow in mist

beautiful misty mountain

after beautiful misty mountain

all varying shapes and sizes

to the centre where there is a hill flowing harmoniously

also in the foreground

a big green one with a few pretty houses

and there are trees on the top of this hill

and beyond this these misty Nilgiri mountains flow

now downwards towards my right

I look and look mesmerised by the beauty

and at one point begin to see those mountains

as big ocean waves

one two three four five

layer after layer

like fingers of a hand

like dreams flowing

so translucent

and closer there are tall pine trees

they are beautiful too

their leaves gently sway in the breeze

and last night there was lightning in these mountains

I have never seen anything like that in my life

this far away there was no sound of the thunder

I opened my window and strained to hear

a sound but there was none

just big balls of fire lighting up the mountains

their green peaks glimmering golden in the darkness around

but getting back again

it is quite cold here although it’s May

and whilst here at my window in the morning

my neighbour from the cottage next door

comes over with a warm cup of tea

I thank him and sip the tea

I thank my luck and enjoy the beauty.