when torn clouds bared blue holes
the river brimmed with ecstasy.

it had rained the whole day
and she was bursting in seams
to tell her side of the story
from the many
upon her shore's mangrove.

how the tiger guards her treasures,
prawns and ***** and honeys and woods,

pounces from the saline thickness of the mist
when dream of life is heavy on the gatherer
and smell of death far gone forgotten

rips the flesh cracks the skull open
flows the blood as silent night
carries the trophy for a bony rest
till devoured by her floodwater.

the river knows it too well

the tiger is her lover and loyal sentinel.

Under the mango tree where the shade is dark and deep
she waits with years on her skin.

The face though weary with the burden of time
has not yielded to the fate
of having once loved and lost.

She believes the winds from the barren field
will one day carry the rustle of footsteps
raising a song from within earth
that the moment is arrived
for the dead river to rise in tides
and flood her cheeks with the sapplings of
all the unplanted kisses.

When the nights come
the fireflies would sing
love is such a beautiful thing
basking in the glow of her heart.

For the dear wife is worn one face
it's another that's seen by the son
try all the faces to strongly impress
as have been doing all along!

It's all in the face rightly they say
keep changing like unending task
roll they transforming throughout the day
not hold onto only one mask!

Changed with the hour, day and season
shown as do fit the occasion
worn the way deemed right reason
to display the needed emotion!

Each one sees us in different face
like six blind men of Indostan
mistake they all to rightly assess
the unmasked within lying man!

God willing, she said,
Looking at the dwindling garden flowers
This winter we’ll have blooms of marigold.

Her clayed hands some smudged on her face
They speak of her hard stolen recess
From the grinding chores of running a family
And still when the wind turns cold
Dream for beds of marigold!

God willing
Before her dream’s warmth fades
The garden will be blooming with marigold beds.

Silhouettes emerge from the night lunar tide
lives still wriggling in their net
ghostly figures from the sea silken wide
reaping riches from the waves in spate.

The night a luminous smile wears
the belly is fired up for a bite
dried leaves would burn under stars
brewing another day under moonlight.

Mariners when not venturing into deep sea
release passions on the shallow shelf
harvest hope though the catch is measly
breathing in the winds the aroma of kelp.

I feel having long belonged to this place
wading breakers in the phosphorus' glow
gathering in my net a strange happiness
craving home when the tide is low.

Marionette spread
On her bread
Some cheese,
The evening sun was red
When flew above her head
A few wild geese!
As she looked up the sky
To see them prettily fly
Buzzed around her head,
Black honeybees!
She held her ground
Moved her hands around
But they do as they please,
These stubborn honeybees!
The smell struck their head
Fine cheese on bread
So luscious was the sight -
It whetted their appetite!
Marionette felt uneasy
The bees kept her busy
And obstructed her sight -
She was not allowed a bite!
It was getting late
The sun was about to set
It was coming to twilight,
But our poor Marionette
In her agitated state
Couldn’t enjoy the sight!
Cute little Marionette
She went down on her knees
But her evening was spoiled
By the uninvited bees!

When the yellow day coppers to dusk
I paint my weary eyes dreams.

They nudely wade the crabhole muds
for marks of the great marksman
climb up the chunks going into tides
tiptoe through the needle roots
sniff a wind that smells of stripes
thrilled
death if comes
would be a momentary stir
a dangling cloth
resting on the trail of blood, marking,
someone ventured.

Draw child, mark on the wall
before life is dull
and you may not even
put your pain on the paper,
has to scribble mindless hieroglyphs
to qualify in some cruel test
and find a job that'll make you forget
where your heart is.

Do your paintings on the wall child
to your heart's content
even if they mean nothing
only mark the life's time
most well spent.

Spread your marks freely child
on the wall, floor, glass, wood
before your age suddenly vanishes
and the world binds you
with the shackles of rules
your freedom gone for good.

I won't scold you child
I would rather love the short time
you are wild and
the sweetest rhyme
my world would ever hear.

Leave child your marks behind
leave them firm and bold
so when I grow old
senile and dull
you will still smile on my eyes
from the wall.

she was standing close
her waist an hourglass
in flirty girly pose
skinned in hue of brass!

nay it's all my hype
her girth was plumply round
skin was of dark type
teem such girls abound!

she was on my sight
sweet was her fragrance
her eyes were happily bright
mind loved her at first glance!

it's my fancy wished her be
her eyes were cloudy dark
she was smelly and *****
with none of beauty's mark!

yet long held her my gaze
this heart craved her close
eyes feasted it for days
her small black mole on nose!

Two little birds
One green one blue
I really don’t know
With them what to do!
In the markets yesterday
There were birds galore
But I cannot say
How they landed on my door.
From the many colorful ones
The hands that picked these two
Sold them off and flew
Not telling me what to do.
The blue one is too small
Its tail not grown enough
The green is a perfect doll
A prancing chirping stuff!
Amid the birds umpteen
Maybe they were apart
But fate has put them in
To become my household’s part!
My words they don’t heed
I really have no clue
For food what they need
For their upkeep what to do!
In a day they’ve carved a space
Stolen my mind strangers though
Bringing me a gust of happiness
On my face a joyous glow!
I’m worrying when they’re quiet
Feel blessed when they dance
My wonder doesn’t abate
At these mates thrown by chance!

Under misted august sky
where the fishnet boats dot the Matla River
I stand drunken on the wild mangrove.

This abandoned out of world noon
when the river breeze whispers
you are deathless
my blood paints in my eyes her face.

Only the estuarine heron
wings smelling of sun and fish
is my timeless witness!

Slowly in a haze
I rise from me
Float a little up
And there below
I lie cold and white
In the thick of silence
Broken by wails
Of the ones who till now
I held so dear
Loved, hurt, cajoled
Living through a dream
That this bond would not end
But now a different me
Not seen not heard
But still lingering around
Not able to tear off
The umbilical cord of Maya
Hoping it another nightmare
Of the end!
When they set the corpse on fire
And the ashes fly away in the wind
I let go
All that’s below
To climb the rainbow!

on a day hanging in haze
the crow sits glum on a perch

do the flying pairs overhead
remind it of the lost mate
and in the midday lull
it feels a vacuous dullness
when even the search for food
seems purposeless?

i feel a stab of pain inside

whoever goes first is lucky
not so the one left behind

maybe the wings are now too heavy
for the bird to fly into the sky

Ear holes closed to the world
Hands thumping to the beat
All made in the same mould
How they enjoy this moronic feat!
You would feel they are not from womb
But batches generated by machines
Clones consigned to doom
Mechanical dolls in their teens!
It’s no yielding to passion
For music that touches the heart
Just an unquestioning submission to fashion
That once acquired defies to depart!
Their earpiece shuts out the world
And with it goes the fine art of hearing
Cursed and made in the same mould
They never know how sweetly the birds sing!

The painted sun on the guava leaves
Augurs another winter,
Mellowed only till next summer
The sun quietly rests in the shade of each leaf
Contemplating in melancholy
Next winter they won’t be there
And the eyes catching his breathless softness
May be gone too,
But he through seemingly endless time
Has to return each winter
To rest in the shade of guava leaves
And be planted on the coming eyes
Mellowing in the on-setting winter!

Long ago a lightning had burnt her dry
But her resolve its might couldn’t foil
Her gnarled hands spread on the merciless sky
She stands on her root in the soil.

You may think she’s there without a purpose
For no foliage now adorns her frame
Not one leaf rustles in south wind’s rush
You can’t even tell what’s her name.

Petals don’t bloom she’s ****** long dry
Her shade lures no traveler to rest
You may wonder she stands there why
Bereft of seasons’ colored fest.

Her trunks sunburned naked and bare
I ask why this purposeless waste
Till I find out one cute raven pair
Has made her their dreamful love nest!

When you first met her
seemed she was for you made
your wait was now over
time had come to go ahead!

Most beautiful girl was she
for holding hand and walk
she was heavenly
was yours by good luck!

How those times flew
with her on windy sail
before you knew her well
she had grown too stale!

She wasn't all that nice
you didn't understand
what made you pay the price
to love her ask her hand!

It started with a tiff
then frequent quarrel
soon you reached the cliff
time with her was hell!

From her you grew aloof
she wasn't for you made
being under the same roof
burned fire in your head!

Soon you parted way
for you had strayed far
rued that ******* day
when you fell in love with her!

Can you tell me why
love dies we part our way
once more we don't try
to love her like first day!

Is his work sweet or bitter
Door to door goes meter reader
Is he dull or clever witty
The measurer of used electricity.

With a torch and thick bound book
Below staircase down dark nook
Scans through the dust on mesh
With a face that’s expressionless.

Speaks so little somber face
Smiles no little courtesy’s grace
Notes down with just one look
Prosaic digits on notebook.

Is he a man with a home family
Or a mad measurer lone carefree
A wild pursuer of endless digit
Never known love never had it.

Still he has to knock many door
Stay a minute not anymore
Time is his arch enemy
Till comes night sleep’s lullaby.

That hour made me busy
questions were easy
not yielding a moment

he was sitting glum
peeping at my diagram
of Michelson Morley experiment!

I could hear his sigh
from the corner of my eye
could gauge he felt bitter

all he had read
had quickly fled
clouding him in ether!

It was all in mist
what those darned physicist
had theorized in vain

no lover’s tryst
but a paper of physics
an agonizing pain!

My worst fear
was remembering the year
when the experiment was done

for once did it Michelson
then with Morley redone
was it ’87 or ’81!

That boy behind me
was thinking bitterly
worrying in fright

soon the time would be spent
without his writing the experiment
on the wavy behavior of light!

Tense was the air
when I heard him whisper
push your paper to the right

in his voice was despair
bothered little to be unfair
quite visible was his plight!

*With all my toil
burning the midnight oil
how this I lost sight

covered all nitty-gritty
of magnetism electricity
missed the chapter on light!

Thousands of miles' flight
leaving behind inhospitable terrain
for life and warm sunlight
the migrants are back again!

None can to this day
with any certainty say
how they don't ever stray
navigate perfectly the long way!

Never in their path they are lost
as they fly from the land of frost
in rhythmic unison like a rhyme
intent to reach the warmer clime!

My place is where they come
they find here warmth and welcome
winter guests for some time's restful peace
come summer them we will sorely miss!

On the white screen dance the stringed dots
Mind spilled codes of hieroglyphic thoughts
Slowly they emerge handholding lines
Not always yielding intended designs.
Something was brewing inside the head
Coaxing to weave and take it ahead
The drunken horses so wildly gallop
There is no leash to make them stop.
Nerves are taut and they won't relax
Till all is vented they reach the ******
It was thus fated the moment it was sown
What's to be grown could never be known.
As the fever wanes arrives the new child
It may be adored or it may be defiled
The canvas is washed clean as in the rain
Something is brewing to be vented again.

Check faucets and pipes for leaks
Don’t leave them leaking for weeks.

If you smoke to evade constipation-al day
Don’t flush cig-**** and use toilet as an ashtray.

Ditch the habit of taking long showers
To remain clean is not to bathe for hours.

Don’t let running water flow in gush
While you’re busy with the toothbrush.

Your mouth though you must cleanse
Keep a glassful of water for the rinse.

When you clean vegetable or dish
Don’t let the faucet run as you please.

Be not under the slightest doubt
If you waste water it will run out.

The way we waste water future isn’t bright
For supply of water is only too finite.

Conserving water it makes a prudent sense
For on it depend we our earthly existence.

Have you minded the water?
Not the one for drinking
But in the eyes
Your words do bring!

Where they go and hit
You never paused to see
Never thought a bit
How painful they could be!

Once said they do hurt
Do bring pained surprise
Words you thought smart
Brought tears in the eyes!

But you had things to tell
Mouthful words to blurt
What if they crafted hell
Left a bruised heart!

In ten times if at least once
Had seen the shadowed face
You would’ve ached for penance
Searched ways for redress!

Grinning wide by the riverside
two bubbly girls click shots
between them whisper confide
share the secret thoughts!

The giggly cutes they walk like dance
caught in a sunlit pause
not mind the boys stealing glance
seems not worth a cause!

Their cells follow where they go
the lens beamed right on face
one more please and then one more
frames add up happiness!

I was watching the sun go down
pretty much in a fix
light was getting dullish brown
would turn darkish by six!

The urge was great surged the will
it grabbed the whole of mind
to have a photo me standing still
with the river flowing behind!

The butterfly girls in the sun's last kiss
they readily said o yes
each of them took a shot apiece
my joy you can easily guess!

On the low tide marshland I run
to catch the miracle from close
deft splash of colors godly done
river bridging twin gorgeous rainbows!

Now I can leave in peace
without a regret to die
having seen fulfilled my wish
of a double rainbow on the sky!

Perches on my window
My mustached friend bulbul,
Finds me shaving,
A stray bird and I call it a miracle,
It pecks from my hand tidbits of food
Not scared at all
Looks deep into my eyes
And plants there a sunrise,
Asks the bird, ‘why do you shave,
And not save your beard
For the time it would fit your sunken face
When it would tell
There aren’t any of us around,
No miracle of waking up each morn
With our sounds’!

It knows miracles are drying up.

moonlight's shadows on bats' wings
in the sky the stars abound
but keep me busy so many things
my eyes are stuck in ground.

my mind is stuck in arithmetic
the end of day accounts
so little time to be romantic
unfelt has lost all count.

croons unheard the unseen nightjar
***** owls' eyes glow
my mind still finds too little to stir
to pause a while go slow.

mystic night is lilting unheard
the moon still hopeful round
I'm busy picking the shards
of a mirage strewn around.

I chanced upon an ethereal sight
there she glowing in falling sunlight

heart wondered
at the mirage in the forest

eyes couldn't ponder
and let go waste!

The sleepy man at the museum
directed me to the balloons.

Ten out of ten shots went astray
proving my eyes are lame
and so my aim.

The galleries were eerily deserted.
(is people's interest in science flagging?)

I looked down the infinite well
for awhile eternally falling into it
recovering from the realization
they were merely infinite reflections.

The man's smile told he knew from my dazed look
I was lost in the mirror maze.

(Was I stuck in all the wrong exhibits
for my age?)

I got a ticket for the sky in September
finding peace in the dark of the planetarium.

The day a lightning struck my home in September 2010
I read in it signs of bad time grave misfortune’s ill omen
Early morn it fell the night though didn’t hint of a bad weather
Jolting us further a bereaved family my father had died that year.

Spitting fire it chipped a chunk of attic struck dead an arecanut tree
Blew the TV dead lights and fans fled it vented such awesome energy
What had we done to deserve such a deal why befell us the curse
Redoing the roof replacing dead wares it was taxing on our purse.

They say it’s too bad when god goes as mad as to strike your home with lightning
You must have sinned to incur his wrath more misfortune it probably would bring
So we brought a priest for peace and worship we had to appease the deity
In our quest to strike a deal with god’s will was forgotten the arecanut tree.

The house was mended things returned to shape we brokered a peace with god
It all looked fine the mishap forgotten no calamity struck our abode
As a relic of that time stands the arecanut tree without a leaf on its head
Mutely it bears the brunt of god’s fury so is the way it is made.

One autumn morn there was a tapping sound on that tree’s hollowed dead bark
As I peeped through the window I saw a woodpecker its beak was busy at work
So many times I had thought to cut off the tree for it could never grow its root
The bird has got a nest for little ones’ rest god’s will has borne a sweet fruit.

The most uncommonly heroic
goes by the name

common man.

I used to eye her more than books.

She had good looks
and for me
in the library
she killed the dullness of patience
the stifled air of silence
with her lips' hidden smile
that was quite a diversion
from pouring over yellowed pages
all the while.

In the garden I sought my chance
but she resisted any advance
telling me it's not her
I needed to be in my mind
but a job I must find
for couldn't be raised a family
merely loving in the library.

I think she gave me love
when I needed a job
but by the time I earned the bread
she was already married.

Once I thought of her as Miss Giving
but now as I look back
I have serious misgiving.

It was all faintly lit gloom
where her silhouette wouldn't betray
if she was sleeping or awake
amid the thick smell of disinfectant
the world debarred from the room.

I trust not one of you, she would say,
moving germs, a tribe of dirt,
that's what all of you are.

Countless times she would dress and undress
drenching herself with dettol
changed linen time and again
and her only pursuit of happiness
was denying even the closest an access
to evade disease only she knew.

Others would find in her
a diseased mind.

When she died
men were hired to burn her
and the celsius ensured
she had a germ free passage
to the next world.

People go missing from our lives
Either leave or disappear
Or may appear unfamiliar
Hard to feel they were once
Intimate part of your life
Had a place in your heart.

Then they depart
Either you let them go
Or they leave you.

Maybe after years
You remember them with silent tears
Wished they had not gone
You shouldn't have let them go.

Guilt sits a weight in your heart
It's you made them depart
You and you and you
It's why relationships are few.

Hold those few strong,
Who knows
You may again go wrong.

Marines land in Somalia
To feed starved stomachs
Serve humanity.

She led me by the hands
saying she would never leave me.

I was happy
for once believing
and loved her more.

The little I had in the purse
was hers
saved nothing willingly
sure as I was
one day
her love would save me.

When I fed enough winds
to her wings
she flew away to a pasture
better and greener.

She led me by the hands
and for once I believed
she wasn't Miss Leading.

So far the story goes
Miss Place keeps everyone on their toes.

For her finding things is not an easy thing
Most of her possessions invariably go missing
Nowhere to be found are objects of her use
And the ones she blames find some excuse
That she is unmindful and blatantly unfair
Her missing comb is there only in her hair
To her desperate hunt for an important file
She's told she's sitting on it all the while
When she lost an earring and was sulking morose
It so happened they said she wore it on her nose
She wonders why her family should at all blame her
If her car keys are found in the dickey of her car
and why on earth should the blame be all hers
when her money is in a book and not in her purse.

Miss Place thinks she knows the reason for such mess
others' gross negligence in putting things in place.

The first crush she had
was unluckily me.

From beyond the specs
her eyes were sad
yet silently pleading
someone found them sweet too.

Braving all her shyness
she penned me three sentences
jotted with immature hands
dipped in the fountain of romance:

How are you. I'm fine. Love you.

That night I took them to the streetlight
and read like a whole long story.

I never replied.

I only wished
she read it right
at the turn of page.

Of the many girls i thought loved me
she stands out boldly.

She knew how to weave
herself into elusive

raise the bar
just when i thought i reached her

quietly recede
when i picked up speed

use my gift
to give me a lift

remind what was hers
was in my purse

convey
her generosity was a day away.

As i recall
she took my all
and left me a wreck.

She was my Miss Take.

Nobody can understand me
can understand my malady
nor is there a foolproof therapy
a curing remedy!

You talk about helping me
try to be friendly
it seems so silly
I'm an alien to my own family!

Can lift my surround mist
no psychiatrist
they really don't get
what's wrong and medicate!

Where I stand
won't reach your helping hand

I don't understand myself.

How can you be of any help?

Mistakes we make are
lamenting over
past mistakes!

Every year I make a resolution
To observe mom’s birthday
Offer her a garland,

But here I stand
This year too,
The day passed, mom,
I didn’t remember you!

It would not have been so
Had I been gone even this long
For you mom
I would never have been out of sight
But on this day
With tears and one candle light
You would have remembered
Her son long gone
Offering him with your trembling hand

Your love’s garland!

Potholed road full busload, rumble cloud rain,
Hole in sky angers fly, groan they all in pain,
Flooded way joy at bay, no relief respite,
Begged it rain summer’s pain, scorching day and night,
You prayed it god brought it, the monsoon’s delight,
Don’t grumble slip tumble, curse it as a plight.

Each of our days has monsters and angels
Always against one the other rebels
Who we hear is surely our choice
Listening in the din that standalone Voice!
Life is a canvas we hold the brush
It’s our choice we create or crush
Colors are in the palette ideas in our mind
What the world will see is the painting we leave behind!
Short is the life big is endeavor
To build in the present to secure future
What we do is what our children will get
We design destiny we build our fate!

The owl winged night is hanging low
in marshy fragrance moon's powdery glow
winds whisper day's sun tanned pain
what happened once can happen again!

The moon lights up the hidden hulls
some in view some within walls
there's no class in her beaming reach
by magic wand sleep the poor and rich!

On their thorny beds the aching souls
in feathery dew by glowing coals
their eyes moving in silvery gleam
fly on wings catch a passing dream!

It's time for the cloud to play mischief
darken the night usher in relief
to veil the moon when her job is done
so she no more hinders sleep's healing run!

A kid I was when on way to school I caught her pretty face
Fell for her can’t call it love the sweet girl in school dress
She stood on her door a beauty of yore waiting for the bus
My limbs went limp grew butterfly wings she was my childhood crush.

I thought she knew felt it was my due flew me a bewitching smile
Waved her hands and knowing my mind she looked at me awhile
Each day on that way as I passed by her I caught in her eyes a gleam
Read in her waves a bridging of hearts in her smile an unfathomable dream.

No ordinary path it was a dream walk for nothing I could miss out the chance
To have a glimpse of her catch those moments forever get lost in strange romance
The ******* the door she made my spirit soar she was close yet a distant star
Took me on fancy flight her smiles glowing bright the child could never touch her.

I set myself a rule not to take break from school but to pass everyday by her
It’s no wonder some things last forever some memories with time never blur
She my whim’s fair red ribbon in her hair stood there in her white skirt
A petite white dove radiating precious love she enamored the little boy’s heart.

In the lost years’ light burns a patch bright where shines her unearthly face
A girl in her teen not aging always green occupying a permanent space
I don’t have of her anything more to remember what remains is so divine
The girl in her teen could be thirteen or fourteen and I was a boy of nine.

The cat mews at the moon
It got the hint that soon
The moon would slide down west
Hide beneath horizon to rest.

The moon it can afford a rest
After romancing earth in jest
For the cat no rest is in sight
It has to hunt through the night.

But the cat has lunar allergy
Moonshine gives it lethargy
With eyes drooping and dreamy
It mews Beethoven symphony.

The mice they aren’t easy cheese
Don’t fall prey with any ease
They run and find the hole quick
Alerted by the mewing music!

The moon thus plays on cat a trick
Diverts the predator to music
To give its preys some respite
As the cat mews Beethoven in moonlight.

Now for years I haven’t seen him
nor know if he is alive or dead
the shadowy man who floated like dream
each moonlight on the roof surfaced!

When from my window his silhouette I caught
saw him on his voyage embark
the moon stalker day’s small-time clerk
wove a magic spell on my thought!

As the moon came over the eastern edge
silver orbed in her glorious rebirth
he would be there lost in his gaze
like a moonman stuck on the earth!

Madly his eyes riveted on the sky
in pursuit of gain unknown
as if once unmoored to her he would fly
leaving this world disowned!

Hours passed by his wonder not ebbed
eased not the moon stalker's trance
it seemed to me moon's waning he grieved
mourned dimming of her silvery dance!

Each full moon saw this unfailing zeal
on the roof two lovers' meet
his eyes sky bound till he had his fill
the moonman on earthly transit!