Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Free Verse

In anticipation you stand, your breath in your pocket, your eyes strained and clouded from sleep and your mountain of faith shaking beneath. You are in a dreamland of spectacles where you don’t need your own body, your soul is spinning in the wind, taking dizzy circles and spouting colour, puncturing the heavy smoke of existence. Can you picture what will be, so limitless and free? You are in stranger’s hand, in a desperate land far from your home, just hanging hanging hanging soaking and wetting then drying pulsating gathering dust and mud and wondering and singing endlessly. Lost in the wild within your brain and stomping a landscape outside your imagination, playing the images back and again forwards into the future, where your dreams inhabit a charmed train of thoughts, where the sea rises and falls, where the beach house is full of light, where the wind is welcome and where the sun is highest in the sky, where the sand is sparkling every moment and never stopping and where the water is very quiet and very strong, where the fibre is included in the colour, where the clouds are moving in ink, where your skin is cold, where you are shivering, where you can’t feel your bones, where you are looking towards the west, and where you are thinking of the lost bells of the east, where the road calls you and you are stranded, where the bus stops once and takes away your freedom, where you are the only loner, where there are crowds of people in tantrums and carnivals and where they can’t see you, where you are not going back home, never to see your mother’s inner face and smell her hand, where you give and take and play and spill, where you running now and stopping too soon, where you know little and do much without much, where the world is new again and again and again, where you forget, where they tie their ribbons straight and where the feet are swollen, where pride is coming back, where there is a chance, there is a golden chance, there is yet more to go, there is person and devil and god, where there is spirit and swoon, there is music on the green leaf, where there is sweat, and sneeze and skin and sex and severity.

Vanish below and come back, the sun is waiting forever, the sounds are hanging still.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Ooncha

Oonchi haryali pahadi pe rehta hai woh parwana
Bandish se ooncha

Thandi gufa aur aisa mausam ka ruk jana
Uski oonchi manzil

Jahan basera nahi insaan ka
Parindo ka bolbala

Kaisa begana who lawaris woh deewana
Layak nahi pyar ke

Girti ho baarish maidan mein agar
To peeyega, jeeyega

Khali aasmaan ka nazrana
Aur chamkeeli raatein lambi.

Aur pathreeli haryali karvaan ooncha chauda
Nigah mein naa aaya

Phir usne kiya rukh neeche aur seedhe
Utra dheere dheere

Bhoola oonchi saari tasveerein
Mitti mein shamil hua

Woh gir gaya masti mein susti mein
Khaakh kha ke das pal khoya

Aashiq sab ne use bataya
Khuda se aaya bataya

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Love Poem

She sits and glows
Shines and kills me
Booming on my nerve
She is plasticine.
Nimble

Mindless mad mad twice.
Juice class and vice.
Tartar and she is just so simple
And we were set around in motion
We land on the ground
Playing with our knees down

Oh she coughed and bent herself over
She lowered her single back and flew
Outdoor she went to see
For her dusty thin fingernails
And she grew you out

Pee her in grip her skull
Now she is feeling full
Bills from her very early past
Mouthing my mother.

Never sex.
Flow and float and blink
Kill