Perspective

She stood before her gods

dazed like a zombie

the mountains are calm

outside my house

they flow in that zigzag path

and the trees are there listening

“goddess” she cried out

and that patch of houses

is glorious

in the valley below

we cannot understand

white and green

standing in the branches

so pretty

the suffering

it must be painful

let me go let me go she screamed

she thought she was 34

I look at that bald patch of brown

in the mountains

you cannot believe anything

I know

my move here

still the hills and the darkness

hold me in their arms

each night

and the birds come

and peck at my window

their red hoods

their yellow and brown bodies

and the squirrels run in the teak forest outside

we are torn and stitched together somehow

the calm in the mountains

will go with the clouds

but I will hold your hand.

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There Are Some Open Spaces

where you can be

preferably on a rock under a tree.

 

The vehicles in the distance you will barely hear

the old buildings across are dead and dear.

 

And as the rhymes you read open your mind

you look up at the sky calm and quiet.

 

There you see the endless white flowing

also perhaps one or two birds flying.

 

Now the day darkens and you feel

one with the trees one with the breeze

and you begin to walk home

one with the streets.

 

Shops and shoppers,

vegetables and vendors

gladden your eye.

 

Streetlight and headlight

brighten the night.

 

 

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

See If I Fall

deep down into a ravine

I have no fear

I have been falling into ravines

for years

now I like the excitement

the speed at which the earth flies

it is all rock and air

and from inside the earth

the chanting the singing

deep inside some cave I think it is

I don’t know

I’m not sure

but there is such music

your mind will merge

with everything there is

in the universe

and the bells will ring

with such beauty and clarity

you will become air

I tell you this is such an experience

your heart has never known

such quietness such calm

there will be no night no day

there will be no colour

perhaps just blue at the beginning

and then nothing

and now the sea approaches

you know this by now reader

it is so familiar

from so many years ago

open your arms

and greet your old friend

O joy my heart will

take my life

from my tongue

and we will meet

and greet

each other

once again

with a splash.

I Could Not Stand Up

not even

to my knees

there were words

so heavy

my head knocked

against the street constantly

I did not want to go on

but if I stopped

nerves burst through

my body

and my back cracked

so I stumbled on.

 

Out of nowhere

the music began to play

the notes slow

I saw the sea

and as I started

to stand up straight

through the mist

several skyscrapers rose.

 

 

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

How Strangely We Are Built

our bodies our minds

and that strange

is the world too

beautiful and bad

nature and therefore we

are like that

our greatnesses

our stupidities

mercy mercy

peace happiness

joy I want

I wail and wail

like a child

calm I want

calm I want

to be

and that jazzbird

has arrived

and finally it is nearing dawn

and that wonderful

bird is playing

its horn

twee twee

tweuhuhuihhhu

it goes on for long

there is so much

and so beautiful

it knows it’s playing

and the music it is making

it raises its volume now

it is welcoming the sun

in its own language

it is blowing out the meaning

of its life

complicated

the gaps the turns

the stops

and now it goes back to its first note

wow what a musician

how it blows

and the trees and everyone is listening

to the jazzbird

playing another variation

now

I too should just stop writing

and listen

and now a whistler bird

is blowing its sweet long whistle louder

and the jazzbird is in the background

nature is showing its sonic parade

it is celebrating in the morning

the birds are at least

because they are the happiest

only they can fly.

The Watchman

sat under the mango tree

on a blue tin chair

tapping his stick

on the ground

in the afternoon.

 

Across the road

a cream Fiat slept

in its rusted garage

in the shadow

of a faded

yellow building.

 

The white sky

burned in

complete silence.

 

 

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

And Now Dominic You’ve Got To Get

into the rhythm of life here in Kumily

I tell myself

it’s a nice town

a nice neighbourhood

less people

the electricity yesterday

went for a few hours

but the weather

is cool and pleasant always

and there are such a lot of beautiful birds

and trees and hills and mist

this is even more beautiful

than your childhood

I tell myself

and with my scooter

I’ll ride through the streets here

the sloping roads

and I’ll travel through town

yesterday Ludger was sick

he had vomiting and a bad stomach

Claus too was ill with a sore throat and a bad cough

we relaxed in his balcony

he is a good man

and Ludger showed me birds

he brought a book from the house

where we identified some of the birds around

lots of bulbuls yellow green brown

they are beautiful

and Claus has a pool where they come to bathe

and drink water

later lots of brown bulbuls were fighting

in a tree behind us

Ludger pointed that out

and he also showed me other birds

and Claus and Omana have

a big beautiful white cat

whom they love very much

Ruby

and we locked it by mistake in the terrace

and it cried

and Omana heard it

and I opened the door

and we were joyous

especially the cat

from the terrace

you see

huge flocks of black birds fly over the mountains

and they change direction

it is all so wonderful

and then Omana

pointed out a lone white egret

that flew right above us

so sleek and swift

that was the best

and the clouds here

are the whitest

I’ve seen anywhere.

The Sky

is a big blue jar of water

I drink from all day

the birds do too

before returning to circle the buildings

how beautiful they look

carefree

going round

and I stay

at my window

and watch

I find

the shops

the thin strip of road

the timber sticks stacked

the trees

the locality

asleep

just waking

in the glowing golden light

giving it wings

making it merge with the sky

in the morning.

 

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

Then We Went

riding through the tea estates

Ludger and I

and it was beautiful

in Kumily

I’ll slowly settle down here

in this quiet and peaceful town

and regain my health

and enjoy life

and learn to ride a scooter

and now Ludger takes the rocky stone path

to the river

and we ride over a rough road

for long

and finally reach the green river

then we go uphill

along beautiful scenery

all green and fresh

a bike is a must here

you can’t do without that

and then we come to Chenkara

to a gorgeous place of vast tea estates

and green mountains

and then we go downhill to Kumily again

your ass aches after a while on a bike

and then your back

the hills unfolded before us beautifully

I don’t think I can ride a bike like Ludger

maybe 10-15 minutes

at a time

when I learn to ride

that’s max I think I’ll be able to manage

we stopped at many places

at one point

in some green grove

down a valley

a huge trunk of a tree

lay across a pool

it was at quite some height

Ludger walked over it

asked me to take his picture

he said the tree was shaky

which it was

then pretended to fall

then danced over it

and walked back again

I admired his guts

he has desire in his heart

and says hello to everyone passing

I bought him a cup of masala chai

I told him next year when you come

we will ride together

and he said yes and we laughed

he’s semi-bald, funny, 57,

he walks fast

a few paces ahead of you.

Time To Go

tossing through

the yellow room the ship of shadows

in all this talk of trains…

 

to see pink buildings sail the sky

you can’t miss them

buzzing through in a taxi’s

 

butterfly flight

where blue red green

and other colours you’ve seen

 

bring you back home

in an orange steamer’s dream

blowing in the afternoon.

 

 

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