Was it them bubble colours
on the outside,
mellow summer beckoned
cold under the sheets
palm to your *****

Speaking lost in a language
of memories, welling up
genie-like finger tiptoeing
on the handle

or how tea stained the corners?
your eyes, lined black

distant bylane of long forgotten
when in rain we stopped by
porcelain, hands
clay-holding kiln-heated

fragrant vapour rising
morning in the chocolate cup

was it your lips that I
longed to find on the edges?

four seasons, etched
in the corrugations
that bore the wash-marks of time

broken - now lost, forgotten
the polka dots cup

I'm just this much to you:
nuisance. disorder.
threat to lives
of all colours but mine.

this hue of earth
wrenched from my kind,
herded across seas
to tend your lands
as your bondslaves.

raise but an eyebrow
be killed and maimed
and chained in prisons
My anger is illegitimate
**** as you wish
and I, take it lying down

Yes, I know of the whisper
in the secret chambers
of your shrines, where speaks
your god double tongued,
all men are made equal
but some of colour
are no men at all

so **** me with a robot
and a bomb, I'm this much
to you, a nuisance, a problem
to be silenced, to be finished.
any means is fair.

I. Dawn

Dark, before dawn
asleep but
for some wandering souls
ask the winds, where do you go?
echoing destiny

II. Youth

friends we meet, those
companions on the thrilling
highway of life
past revolutions
and revelations
prisons and promenades

III. Love

beats the heart this way
but once.

IV. Anxiety

life, that master architect
chisels out our visage
inflicting pain and sorrow
betrayals, that
of least expected
disillusionment

V. Grace

always here
waiting,
with those winds
with those friends
veiled in love
not lost in betrayal

Winds swept the courtyard
washed in the rain,
now the creepers have cast
their fragrant agony wide -
decorated in jasmines,
burning in separation,
like my heart

the thunder is rending
me apart, aren't they all blessed
the maidens who have
a shoulder to hold them fast
cowering in fear?

but you are afar, my love.
in the surrurating distance
my heart has gone plucking
flowers for the worship basket

but all my soul is forlorn
longing for your love
to seep into my being,
your embrace

now this coolness brings pain
now the cuckoo tugs at the soul
now the courtyard
is decorated in vain,
now I wait in silence,
for you, in the rain

Stay well, table, inviting me
to sit by your side, sipping tea,

stay warm, books, wrapped warm
in your covers, steeped in Spirit,

stay well, koel, sing the same way
every stuttering morning that
comes lisping in the winds
and the tongues of the swallows

stay well, gulmohar, ever
alive in a glow of blooms
warming bare the summer heart

stay well, pens, ever meditating
this way, conjuring up
all the stories I tell in verse

stay well, my droid phone,
go on, recharge yourself in your
morning asana tied to the mains

stay well, web, where I plug in
and broadcast my thoughts
and receive blessings and grace

Zebra-striped cushion covers on soft-white chairs,
cream topped calorie delights, inviting -
this patisserie in Nairobi:
"you're welcome" the smartly outfitted
African girl spoke in flawlessly accented English
as I pore over the menu - a posh girl
dressed in haute denim and a sleeved top
walks in and spoke French in pouted lips
as she found her corner spot, reading;
an Asian couple walk in, wife in hijab
and baby in tow, as the man sneers at me and
answers 'assalamu alaikum' on phone
as I ponder on identity when
the French matron in Yoga tops walks in
saying namaste to me, and calls out for Henry -
her outfitted and bespectacled pomeranian
oh don't we all want to be someone else

Is it the waves,
that heave in sighs this morning,
or is this your heart?

here, these hills have gone crimson
in desire

don't stay head turned away from me

these are the rivers that feed the earth
flowing from the stars,

your silken hair
now in flood

this is the morning smoke
incense, brooding in the shadows

I'm embracing the skies
in passion
beating to my *****

I am you, mea culpa

chorus of
birdsong whispers in the corners

words meet words
before they are born