If a river had ears, they would’ve heard
songs of the clouds and the rain
floating in the breeze above oceans

If a river had ears, they would bring me 
stories told by gurgling, shrinking glaciers
imploding in warming streams

If a river had ears, the waters would know
all the secrets of dolphins and mahseer
it would play the scores of a whale’s song

If a river had ears, they would be blocked
and, when the waves hit the banks, the river
losing its balance forgets the course 

If a river had ears, those would be pierced
their small holes plugged with white pearls
stolen from an oyster’s shell 

Some rivers have ears
like ones flowing through Kashmir,
with their dainty drooping lobes,
pierced by bullets. Robbed of their
red-threaded golden dejhors,
the ears echo of unheard miseries.

Where are the clouds going
in their hurry between heaven and earth?
Why do clouds cry?
Intangible mountains in the sky...
wait - that one’s a bunny!

unbound cliffs
resurgence
i see spindles
of thunder float
behind studded
eyelids

the day is only
young if i
ask it to; my spine is
cracked like an
unloved book, but
the writing has faded

into bloated gums
swelling with
indignation
swear on your god
knife to paper
ink to straw

touch the edge
of the cloud for another
story—lightning
strikes twelve
under turbid gazes,
placid

let me understand the clouds
their moods and patterns that

they display in the sky

a single cloud crosses the sky,
from the ground, we can watch it go by

holding my world up there high
in the sky, we look as time passes by

happy clouds, quiet clouds
calm, still clouds

i hate the way i love you.

i hate the way you smile,
i hate the way you laugh.

i hate how i know you have a dimple,
there, right there, on the side of your cheek.

i hate how you are like sunlight hitting a shimmering puddle,
as if you had the power to lift clouds and calm storms.

you don't have that power.