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Dec 2014 · 726
She & Her Kisses
the storm
in her deep
and unceasing kisses
will bruise
my soul
But,
they will
leave behind
scars
that will
linger in me
the its
taste of
sweetness
tenderness with
searing
passion
and sensuousness
Aug 2014 · 947
Song of the Self
In one dreadful winter night
I awoke and found the Truth
The self in me died
And the duality melt
To synchronize
To become
The  I.

Now I am the Absolute
The really Real
Earlier...
I was a 'being'
A myopic over-bent
A creature of false crisis
Of Hamletian dilemmas
Of Ramusian dualism
Caught up in the concentric circles

I was one....
Spirited into myriad forms
Of love and lust,
Of desire and appetite.
A pilgrim sojourning into the endless night
Purblind by the dazing mirages.

I lost my way
In the eternity of illusion
Materiality held me
Time bound me
At the dead-end of my experience
In the flash-back of my awareness
I delved into the I
And found myself in the Edenic Garden
Rejoicing in the celestial music.
Appeared in 'Encounter' magazine London Editor: Stephen Spender -March 1990 issue as well as
in 'Journal  of English Studies'Dept of English Tellicherry -Kerala June 1978
Aug 2014 · 3.9k
A Rainy Night in Ranikhet
Dark ,wet leaves part for my lantern. I hear
the hushed applause of rain on leaves,and
follow the welcome carpet of light unrolled
from the open door across the soft grass. Smoke
pours down from the chimney to embrace me.
Wet leaves cling to my shoes. Two rabbits
dance back and forth like happy children
and a face pale as the moon peers from
the door in greeting
appeared in' Indian P.E.N'. literary monthly P E N International  Bombay edition Editor: Nissim Ezekiel-- Sept 1996 issue
'Triveni'lit and cultural quarterly Machilipatnam Jan-March 1982
Aug 2014 · 2.9k
A Married Couple
Their togetherness had become an island,
surrounded by strange waters .She contributes
to its noise unendingly.He often makes grand,
defiant gestures withering away like luckless roots.

Only a ruthless need survives.Years
have turned dreams into plain consolations.
Even hope is a necessary drudgery.Fears
grow like parasites on their passions.

Yet a reluctance persists-- reluctance to expand,
the turbulence or claim of waters does not surprise,
some playful waves struggle to the sand,
watching them, they become unconcerned, as the skies

Should they be called happy? The question
sounds hollow.They have raised walls
around their beings, a happy captivity of the sun,
while their lives dance as dolls immaculate
published in Indian Literature' journal of Sahitya Akademi July-Aug 1986-New Delhi
When her husband glances at me;
I observe tiny highlights of speculation
glittering on the treacherous
surface of his intelligence.
My open smile defuses him.
He blast the ready pores of his suspicion,
of course her animation appeals
to other men: she's attractive,
high-spirited in conversation.
But my pleasure find
new edge to the tale of an axe
returned sharper than it was.
appeared in' New Quest' July -August 1986:Editors_ A B Shah & M P Rege-
When she died,
I thought I'd just grow old
Shutting myself in the old house
alone,with memories and the mirror
that she had looked in one bright day
like gold in the miser's chest.
published in 'Illustrated Weekly of India ; Guest Editor;Nissim Ezekiel, October 1984 / Times of India publication-Bombay
The birds fly away from  the evergreen pines
As I stir out of bed
And open the window to see
The mountains still asleep
Behind the thick veil of fog.

I fix the binoculars,
Adjust the lenses
Pierce through them
And lo, the mountains now seem awake:

They glide on the wide plains.
A hide-and seek goes on between us;
Till the start of the rain
When the vision melts,
Like the words of love
The time will wear slowly away.
published in 'Indian Literature'[Sahitya Akademi-New Delhi] journal in March-April 1981
Aug 2014 · 867
An Afternoon in Nainital
This is the river of Nainital
and this the sun glossing over the water
and this is the sound of risen voices
from chestnut trees along the road.
The bells of the shrine are bronze bells,
they walk the water into music,and
night arrives with the great stars,
cupping them deep in the dark hills of Kumuon.
A child cries out; all is not well
a sail, leaning across the water.
is ivory on jade and the herons glide over;
yet something is wrong in Nainital.
But not too wrong -a little thing,
like the slight fever in the small shack
though an old man coughing out of sleep
can send his daughter into mourning.
To Nainital, by train, by bus,
by car,on foot the travelers come,
nothing can keep them from this life
no stranger's death, no foreign pain.
published in Critical Quarterly' journal - London UK Spring issue 1985 Editor ; C B ***& also appeared in 'Rashtriya Sahara' magazine June 1997 -New Delhi
Aug 2014 · 1.1k
A Striptease
Music stops
no music now.
She flicks away the thin residual
bra
and stands.
She thinks she is finished;
mammal absolute!

'Your ***** are tedious,
further strip,
unzip your rosy skin
excite me with the chic
arrangement of your bones'
More music,**!
Your bones dance in their
sockets.
comely bones
but now reduced to dust.
You see ,my friends, the
question of your lust?
Publishe in 'Rashtriya Sahara' in March 1996 issue-Sahara India Communication publication-editor:J B Roy

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