Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, September 21, 2014

raman mundair

In your dreams you had wings,
butterfly wings, wet whispers
emerging from a cocoon.
In your nightmares you fell,
wings aflame like the painting
you saw made in memory

of Hiroshima. In my life, you
blazed. The smoke of your wings
brought water to my eyes. 

Saturday, September 20, 2014

habba khatoon aka zoon









"i have adorned myself lusciously from top to toe; so enjoy my youth as lively and inviting as a pomegranate flower." habba khatoon

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

how to live like a dead person

Lately death seems to be all around, not that it had ever stopped being around, but somehow it seems to have gotten more intimate.  In my closet, in my coffee, in my bathroom, in my garden, in my hair, in my cat, in my cuticles.
Post my father’s exit in 1989, a button of unattachment attached itself on me.  This button lacked a control button.  It was like death itself.  Always hovering.  
And when Shivraj died, he killed whatever life i had residing in me.  When i say life i mean the emotion of life of holding on to dear life.   The silly notion of "forever" built with others, with platinum rings, with infinity symbols inked on our hearts.  The silly notion of making “alone” a state of patheticness (yes I know that’s not a word.) But are we really capable of loving anyone beside ourselves? and is that so wrong? Is life only marked by the physical presence of loved ones? 
The idea of going thru the rest of my journey like a dead person seems to be the greatest gift of all.  To see the beauty in living life unattached, unattainable, unavailable; to live life like a dead person and feel the most alive.




O look the leaves have started falling
Yesterday was summer and
Today
Fall
Soon the trees will be bare
I will see you there




Tuesday, September 17, 2013

not another poem

35 years and counting
many hearts broken and flaunting
a new tattoo for every season
a new husband for every inning

my dad took the best of me
and the remain i shared with thee
i cannot be responsible for your pain
you should wear a raincoat in the rain

writing poems may win you pussy
but at the end of the day sweetie
pussy gets dry and you will try
writin one more poem to get high  ..

this aint no drug cowboy
rollin joints is sweet
you are broken and so unwanted
you appeal only to the weak

i am tired of leading
this
horse to
the water
DRINK LITTLE BITCH
and maybe i wont matter

Lifeguard

Who will guard your life?
Corpse chaser…
Mouth to mouth
Resuscitation
U wave your hands
The dead are ....blind
You scream for help
The dead are ....deaf
You kick the sea in panic
The dead are .....dead
You float in serenity
The dead join u
Mouth to mouth
Elbow to elbow
Pinky to pinky
Forming a dead horizon
The livin watch from shore

Dead Inside.

Monday, February 11, 2013

wish

my mommy sings
me a lot of songs ..
wish she ..
didn't
my bother tells
me a lot of things ..
wish he ..
wouldn't
my cat purrs
me a lot of complaints ..
wish he ..
couldn't
my daddy left
me a while ago ..
wish he ..
hadn't

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Saturday, October 6, 2012

http://www.colethompsonphotography.com/



"the best part about death is that there are no goodbyes!"
not that i am dead or would know anything about the best part of being dead but i do know that goodbyes take up a lot of time!

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

how to dance to drum n bass

Amnesia was doing good all weak.  She tripped over things, took walks down memory lane, rode into the sunrise, stumbled on building blocks and forgot everything the next day.

Reality continued playing his song, luring her, seducing her.  She liked him. Or thought she did.  But forgot about him the next day.



Tuesday, October 2, 2012

lone

Swollen face
Goodbye
Swollen belly
Good night
Lone soldier hope
You
Don’t
Die


Monday, January 16, 2012

jannat ..

 jannat ke phool .... zameen pe nahi milte .

Thursday, January 12, 2012

jesus in love


photo:manoj jadhav

someday I’d like to have another drink
with you beside me
someday id like to take a walk on the beach
with you inside me
jesus is in love with you
jesus is in love with you
you pray for life
holding a knife
you lust for infinity
in virginity
jesus is in love with you
jesus is in love with you

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

free fallin...


“Make the world go away….get it … get it off my shoulder……yeah…make the world go away….say the things we used to say and make the world go away……”
He said,” I am a gypsy…I belong to the world… I left on my journey at 13.  Ive seen a lot of people and ive been with a lot of women.  Nothing you can say or do will surprise me as much as your presence does.  This strong smell of yours haunts me everywhere I go.  In a room full of nationalities you stick out like the green alien, except you’re red. 
She said,” Gypsy boy I am a dream.  Don’t try to make me a reality.  Don’t try to own me and don’t try to limit me.  Close your eyes and I will be yours forever.
He said, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.  Come see me.  I’ll make the world go away.  Come to me….
She said, “I must work….I must focus…I must make money…I must not lust…”
Days passed…
He said She said They said
The world The world The world… didn’t really matter…
He said, “ Dream are you playing games with me or are you gonna come true?  If not, you have to let me know for I have had the most beautiful love declaration last night.  And I don’t wanna sleep to dream anymore.”
She said, “Fly with love my gypsy.  Be happy.  I will always be around flying with you in a distance watching over you and smiling.  Go with love….fly fly fly…”
He said, “as you wish.”
And vanished.
She met him months later.  In her world.  He didn’t fit.  But he tried.  He sat on her bed and sang her Spanish folksongs as she drifted into her tent.
He said, “Lovely strong lady, you don’t belong in a tent.  Unzip and Unlip. 
He spoke of his current ladylove and she pretended not to look bothered. 
He said, “She is beautiful … you know what she said….she said “ive been in love with you for 2 years and watching you…but you never noticed me once….so here I am…jump….”  I was blown away.
She said, “that’s beautiful….love must be beautiful…”
He said, “yes it is….but love is like a dream again…..”  POOF VANISHED!
She said, “ I wish…I wish…I wish….”
And fell asleep….to dream….
He left
Day Dreaming…
Good night!
Elvis continued singing….nobody noticed….
“Do you remember when you loved me…
Before the world took you away..
Well if you do, then forgive me…
And make the world, make it go away..”
PS: being in a relationship is like sky diving…..it’s terrifying but you jump anyway….the thrill of the free fall.... The best part, when you binge on each other and every touch equals goosebumps.  The feeling in your gut, the adrenaline, the rush, the gush, the blush.  But at some point you feel like you’re gonna crash n burn so you pull the chute…and exhale in relief…you’re safe….in your mind….and eventually if you are an expert, you have a perfect landing on your two feet and walk away for another round. 
Note to self:
In these days of recession, binging on love seems to be the perfect thing to do.  Think about it…You don’t need food cuz you can live on soft kisses and air and you can stay up all night in candlelight discussing important issues like “who likes the other more” cuz it aint like you have to work the next day.  So forget the protective gear and free fall till you can free fall again….Chutes don’t even work sometimes.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

whats the use of a title?

They don't make it
the beautiful die in flame-
suicide pills, rat poison, rope what-
ever...
they rip their arms off,
throw themselves out of windows,
they pull their eyes out of the sockets,
reject love
reject hate
reject, reject.

they don't make it
the beautiful can't endure,
they are butterflies
they are doves
they are sparrows,
they don't make it.

one tall shot of flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
one flame, one good flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
in the sun.

the beautiful are found in the edge of a room
crumpled into spiders and needles and silence
and we can never understand why they
left, they were so
beautiful.

they don't make it,
the beautiful die young
and leave the ugly to their ugly lives.

lovely and brilliant: life and suicide and death
as the old men play checkers in the sun
in the park. 
charles bukowski 

top hat

-->
photo by manushka khisty

Trace of white powder
Keeps me
On your trail
Musky scent
Of last nights love juices
Makes me frail
Unaware of my intentions
But of my convictions
Frail trail
To no avail..
I lust I lust I lust I lust
Building a bridge
To grab your
Undivided attention…
The magician sulks
In the corner
Naked With his
Top hat on display
Lights
Camera
Action…..
The lights dim
The show begins…..
Here I am…
I’m pulling rabbits outta my heart
I’m pulling rabbits outta my heart….
U are frail
White rabbits on your trail
White powder on the scale
Inhale / Exhale
I’m still pulling rabbits outta my heart
I’m still pulling rabbits outta my heart….