I think about the odds against me
And i know why i hate math so much
I dream of God's touch
Assuring me i'm the man my grandfather wanted me to be
He's no longer here for me to know
And now this bridge isn't as golden
And my pockets aren't holding
All this change
I wish i could properly rearrange
Without going through an uphill battle
But some people are as carefree as cattle
And hold life in a very small window
But i hate being a spider with two legs
So i decided to hold my podium higher while i speak my words
I think to not get anything accomplished is absurd
But i'm looking for a better word
Cause that's not good enough
For me
I want to be the best man i can to be the world
But i have a few losses on the road
I wonder if i'm still making playoffs
I guess i'm just crossing my fingers
As time lingers
I'm holding onto something that might or might not happen
I'm tired of cornering myself into living this life
So i'm going to solve this puzzle
While you bring more for me to solve
I got more problems fixed but many more coming up
Don't worry, i'm used to this
I'm now a professional
That's the only response you should have
To this roller coaster with no wheels or rails
You see all the details it entails?
It's loud out here but the self esteem is soft
And that's a terrible crime
I'm finding ways to rhyme
And all this garbage is happening in the world
I want to be be able to stare into a kid who has nothing in the eye and give them the world
It isn't about me
I'd brag about my fat stacks going to other people not for myself
These fat stacks have meaning now
Isn't that odd?
I like giving things meaning
It's what keeps me going
Have you ever seen a person bloom so much that you can smell the nectar nearby?

Nothing can match the feeling of drinking fresh spring water
Well, an ice cold coca-cola will do just fine too.

Many people have been told to do the Catwalk and they do it,
but many have rebelled and chose to do the Dogwalk.

Everyone barrages me with compliments and praise
It seems like I've always had my hand raised
I've doubted myself for far too long
But i think i have good reasons to
Others contradict that theory
But theories can change and be edited
I'm not sure if mine will ever change
Despite the overwhelming abundance of kind words
I still feel like i can only hold two candles instead of twenty
Or ace a test with excessive studying instead of acing it perfectly
Or recite a text after hours of reading
Instead of minutes
Am i genius? Am i smart? Am i something better than average?
The answer to this is pretty transparent
I'm alright. A few bruises and dents, but nothing to be startled over.

He was the brightest star the world had ever seen,
but no star can burn bright forever, although that was unforeseen.
He was a man who brought joy to all those around him,
so that he never had to show them how his life was grim.
He made them laugh until their stomachs hurt,
even though inside he was full of despair, sadness and disconcert.
Like a clown, his smile was painted on,
only when he removed it did you see the wretchedness in his deep blue eyes; that’s when it dawned
that he was a slow dying flower,
fading petal by petal and losing power
until the day he’d been poisoned enough by this ghastly world,
and he died once and for all by his own hand – that’s when the truth of his life really unfurled.

No, I don't want to write a sonnet;
to self-lock in an octave
only clasping a rusty key
-volta-
leading to another office cubicle
efficiently labelled sestet
for its six undone quotas
waiting coolly for my
calculating.

I want to untuck my shirt, Whitman;
to unleash words to gather at seams
then tear them open
like bursting blood cells crowding
out of a wound.
I do not want to fit
flesh into a 'perfect' Barbie membrane,
let me stretch the skin taut as sheets
so I can feel the redness
and gouge underneath.

Clarity glazed the Classical sonata
opaque; staves of controlled fantasy
so imaginable, like an illogically
round orange, sliced
in concaves fat
with pulp, each ripeness methodically
connected by thin breath threads.

This is why we have madness, need it;
bless the ****** of brilliance in Beethoven
symphonies, the metallic muscling
of Ginsberg verses, electronic with strange beauty, holy
and unholy, every ****** mess
in between

The heart can't suffice
by merely inhaling
glitter; I can't dare remember the sane
pretty sighing of a Petrarchan
uttering; canned love,
a predictable malaise packaged
neatly in a bland tome, most likely
beige, with the fashionable odor
of bookish age

And so, serif-writing sweetheart
please don't ask
me to write a sonnet.

too comfortable to tuck my shirt in,
I won't touch I won't touch I won't touch

I wished I was
The person
That you wished
I was.
Rosy wallpaper
And proper
English pinkies
Ladies drinking tea.
Profanity a nightmare
Of the lower masses.
Kick me in the shins
With proper
Steel toe caps.
Your heritage
Doesn't dull the pain.
But my wishes
Are saved
For the obtainable.
I will never
Be that lady
Nor
Would I want to be.

(Should someone get inspired after reading this poem to compose one with a similar Title, at least she should have the decency to acknowledge the same!)

THE BELLY DANCER
   BY RAJ NANDY

The sparkling dazzle of those chandeliers,
Transformed the night into an endless day!
And underneath its ignited glow,
The belly dancer's hips gyrated to-and-fro !
With her semi-veiled face and mesmerizing eyes ,
And the rhythmic quiver of those half-clad ******* ;
Her belly button a vortex of tantalizing desire ,
Hypnotized all those assembled guests !
In the smoke filled hall as the drinks went round ,
With eyes all glued to the central stage ;
The music echoing the Arabian Nights , -
Swept them beyond all clime and age !
The Oriental music raced their blood ,
And ignited the night with the heat of desire !
Who knows, before the night comes to an end,
They all may be consumed in that eternal fire ?!
                                           -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.

Notes: I had painted in oil a belly dancing night scene
inside an Egyptian Cafe few years back. This poem was
composed by looking at that painting hanging on
my Study Room wall. If you like it, kindly recommend
this to your friends also. Thanks! -Raj