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.
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).
this happiness
this room of red
humming beautifully
through the dark
to a tailor
and ask for pants
would be to find
deep pockets
in the world
where I could go
to rest.
The above poem is from my first book Reeling (2012).
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).
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.
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.
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).
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).
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.
you have such a beautiful face
would you like to come over
to my place
here I sit lonely
with my glass of whisky
in hand
while my life
sick of me
flows away like sand
come moon
step over this scaffolding
and climb in
through my window
O come moon
don’t ponder so much
I’m feeling so low!
