"storeyed" poems
Since I have no other way
And am in utmost need,
Painter girl,
I filch one of the eight lambs
You have made plump with
Green jack fruit leaves and
Thin gruel with paddy bran.
I will take it to the goat market
And sell it in a jiffy.
I assure you
I will not sell it
To any butcher-
The lamb you made chubby
With sweet sweet words
And much much petting
And nice lilting croons,
Mixing and mixing
Greens with browns.
Don’t be sad, painter girl.
I hear you come running
Searching for your lamb and
Cry out “O my dearest one
Who went grazing in the green fields,”
As the sun in your canvas
Sets in the sea and
The saffron blends with the dusk.
And, see your tears mingle
With the black that you wanted
To adorn the brow of
The naughtiest of them.
Painter girl,
It’s all because I have no other go
And it’s of utmost need.
I could have broken into the
Two-storeyed house you sketched
And stolen the ornaments in
Secret lockers that even
You are unaware of.
Or, I could have
Palmed the golden girdle
Of the beautiful ***** princess
Whose portrait you made,
The one with a nose stud.
Or, drugged her with my kisses
And plundered the harem.
Or else, I could have
Entered the snake shrine
Guarded by the dark serpents
That you often drew
And fled the country with
The precious jewel.
Or, I could have shot down
The birds that you drew
And sold them grilled.
I could have axed down the
Mahagony trees you nurtured
And sold them as timber.
I could have blinded your Kanhaiah
And made him a beggar
To become rich from the alms he earned.
I could have enslaved his Gopis
And handed them over
To the red light streets.
Painter girl,
It’s not for anything of this sort.
I take just one of your eight lambs.
Sell it for a good price
And fulfil my need.
Now, perchance,
If a new tenant comes to rent
My brain where nothing resides
And if they pay me a fat advance,
Painter girl,
Surely will I buy back your lamb.
And tether it in your painting.
Don’t you dare say then
Don’t you say then
That you have forgotten it.
Don’t you say then
You have exhausted your stock of
Green jack fruit leaves.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 11:57 AM UTC
all the time that had been
has been spoken out
the plunging into life-pond
gets condensed within the paperback
then why the kovalam beach does shatter
when it finds the trace of new minerals
is it true then comes to her mind
the memory of the fugitive rain-girl
much sunshine comes for making crowd
on the grasses
in the moonlight of the apple
wakes up the magic
that is attached with the shirt of the
harbour
the white multi-storeyed
also remains sleepless
even-then…
even-today…
july means the amorous bickering
of the fish-girls for pleasure
inside a running minibus
here is the dialects of the fabrics
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 7:23 AM UTC
And the farm endured
seven fields to forty acres
the days of my father
saw grass and crops rotate
his toiling obsession now spent
gave way to a bigger scale
the old house storeyed
by one and a half
the bedroom where I slept
in the shadow of an older brother
the roof of grey slate
the peak of my world
reached my childhood sky
the overgrown garden
the consequence of labours elsewhere
the sycamore tree
my view of a world outside
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
And the farm endured
seven fields to forty acres
the days of my father
saw grass and crops rotate
his toiling obsession now spent
gave way to a bigger scale
the old house storeyed
by one and a half
the bedroom where I slept
in the shadow of an older brother
the roof of grey slate
the peak of my world
reached my childhood sky
the overgrown garden
the consequence of labours elsewhere
the sycamore tree
my view of a world outside
the patch of monkshood remained
where I trapped bees in a jar
the fuchsia bush with flowers to pick
and **** nectar from within
the old dirt track road
the start of a jouney far beyond
the realm of a farm
and the dreams of a boy
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
Tearing my worlds apart
Was forever your speciality
Kissing my wounds
Then biting a piece of heart
Now in these land of mine
Only rocks grow from poisonous
Ground with soil of flame
Everything that once was died
I come around your store
Every morning in cold silence
But you're all sold out
With sign closed on the door
And everywhere is wrong place
For kissing you with lips of darkness
Always prepared to leave
For you if only not for time and space
Walking in the city lights
Miles away from eyes that once loved
Waking in the empty bed blinded
By night, loosing all my fights
I found myself alone cold
In the stillness of the dead
And the dead said to me
Your life's already old
You're long gone with all clothes packed
Cigarettes not as heavy as they should
Hands shaking with deadly colour of blue
Looking down from 10 storeyed flat
And what is there to keep me from the jump
What is there to keep me in this life
What is there that could have me loved
Only death only silence only finishing this song
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC