The Mind Is A Minefield

of anxiety bombs

how they spark slowly

and go off

who comes to my mind

who wants in

who wants out

outside the world is one whole

green plain

in the evening

the sky is silver

I don’t know what it thinks

I only see how sad it is

and how it bends down

all the way

to kiss the earth.

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Uncertainty

in my mind

hangs like a silent cry

in my heart

in my stomach

the universe is dark

there are no stars in my eyes

no moon in my sky

only emptiness

only absence

and here I sit hunched

over my computer

thinking of the sky’s whiteness

in which black birds fly

and it turns to blue in my mind

and I see sunsets and palm trees

and slowly drift into sleep

and then I suddenly dream

I am a river

a green river

under those trees

and when the moon sings

at night

I dance and sway

rippling in cool waves of thrill

and in the afternoon

under the sun

I shimmer like an emerald

playful warm

flowing calm.

 

The above poem is from my third book The Branches (2015).

First Rain

of 2014

June 4

I have cleaned

my house

and sit on my bed

that has freshly changed

bedsheet

and myself

bathed

in my T-shirt

looking at the world outside

in the rain

how the light has changed

so early in the morning

to something so different

I sit here searching

what is it

I wonder in my heart

and it is so beautiful

this deep valley opens up

that goes on and on

and a cock crows

and I listen to the ensuing silence

I look at the houses

yellow green blue white

but it’s mostly the smell

and the coolness

and again the cock crows

and there I go

through the streets

through the swishing vehicles

their lights blazing

reds oranges golds

and all those fluorescent streetlights

like dreams

passing by the buildings

the gardens

of forgotten days

when I would walk in my windcheater

amidst the fallen branches

on the footpath

the crushed yellow laburnum floating

in puddles

I would look up as always

at the balconies

and sometimes find someone

picking clothes from a line

how sweet that used to be

but often it was the trees

and the dripping raindrops

dazed in green

that quickly carried me away

to those spots of skylight

where I wandered on

and walked till I reached the moon.

 

The above poem is from my third book The Branches (2015).

In The High Green Hills Of Kasol

the sheep are led

down the wet street

my mind is a spring

by the Parvati river

how it gushes and rushes

down the rocks

as I am

whooshed

into a thousand bleating

mountain goats

led by this little shepherdess

in medieval red

how sweet

her beautiful girl face

under her cap

and I go down the grey road

leading high up

where the mountain peaks in May are still capped in snow

and as the sun comes out you see them glow

and O I am this high Himachali wooden house

looking out my dark eye windows

my roofhead of beautiful black slate sleeping in rectangles

until that black dog in Tosh takes me

down to the waterfall

and I fall down the earth path that is steep

and I sit on a rock and I weep

and as the water forces me open

I become all sound crying

Guruji I shout tears streaming down my face

and the high Himalayan snow-capped mountaintops smile

Shakespeare I cry aloud

and the white peaks dazzle like diamonds

then a bird begins to sing its sweet long note

teeee tee teeee teeeee tee tee

tee tee too too tooooo

tee tee

just like jazz

when I find

the dog asleep

behind me

and as I turn

the sparkling hills are starting to fly

Jimmy Jimmy

I say

thank you for your help

as we shout

Jai Bholenath.

Now It’s Like This

I look at my face

in the mirror

and it’s a waste

what is the world like

just sunlight and green

and grey and blue

and white

and me

how I feel

so many buildings

I tell you

just so many

what a knot

O by the way

when they fall backwards

what a tumble

they make

how you go

through air

straight outside

and then once again

inside this jumble

see my hands

my fingers

how the index

and middle one

tremble

see this rain

in the morning

this silence this day

my ashtray

my shoes and my socks

inside them

my black shorts

hanging from a hook

so lifeless

the chugging train outside

blows the sky apart

I see the light blue struck with silver

shimmering like water flowing

and then I find myself in this boat

beginning to float

travelling to new places

that play

with the barriers of my mind

untying anything

in a bind

of those things

I now sing

ding a ling a ling.

I Am A Pyramid

of flesh

with a head

and a white t-shirt

sitting cross-legged

on my bed

writing this

my small yellow room

is calm

with the AC on

my two grey cupboards

I look at

then my teapoy with my toiletries

and water

and next to me is this

old yellow chair

from my childhood

where my thoughts

begin to wander

leisurely like air…

and when

I come back

here again

from there

I find

the white screen

of the computer

is slowly

turning into sky

beckoning me to fly

so goodbye.

 

The above poem is from my third book The Branches (2015).

Gathering’s Day Unlimited

Snareteam’s mess by the skyway.

Holes. Big ones.

 

Blue late and thinking of home,

weeping.

 

Angeltrees locked in with night,

quaking.

 

In whose disembrace,

whose dreamday,

do you sleep?

 

Whose words,

silencefires burning?

 

What stake,

starscapes skipping unbeat

 

you to here, noplace,

nomoons disgrace?

 

 

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

O For My Mind

to fade away

to go away

like that

when until now

I was thinking

of the lake

and forests

of Periyar

how those

old trees

against a particular bend

looked prehistoric

to me

how any moment now

I thought

a yellow dinosaur

would come

charging out

whinnying

at the top

of its voice

the ancient wild withered treetops

the lake with blue water

seemed

another planet

I was transported to

and then

the animals came

a small brown mongoose

wild bison

and as I looked on

a black cormorant

from the bright golden sky

grabbed me

in its beak

and dived into

the water

well

that woke me up

from my safari sleep

and so

I sit here

writing.