Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Shut door

A door shut, can express better
than the meaningless talk. Of course it
all depends, on how fast the door is shut.
It can be a slow, boring process like a
lover's goodbye or an anxious brisk thing
like a torrid summer affair.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Falling apart

Your world and my world
and of course, the whole world
are falling apart every moment.
While waiting for this event
we can do so many things
and build a nice disconnect
with our expectations.

We can share our schooldays' memories
Those teenage love affairs included.
Jokes would be just great.
Chicken soup for the souls
-more than welcome.
Nature might be a good cure.
Laughter with 0.5 percent alcohol
is the best tonic .
Smoking things out is not bad either.

On the contrary pacing
as outside the operation theater
or as a confused passenger is not advisable.
Remember, we are not at all anxious
about this falling apart business.
It just happens in the natural course.
Take it cool, as fixing your world needs
only you and it would wait for you
like a fallen angel
like an angry wife.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Dead hopes

In ruthless abandonment
lies the carcass of hope
in the afternoon sun.
Dead hopes are infectious
They need to be scavenged
Completely and thoroughly.
Surgically and smoothly.
The eyes, plucked
Skin, peeled
Intestines, noodled
Flesh, swallowed
Blood, dried up
Leaving only a fading mark
on the deserted sidewalk.

Sunday, April 12, 2009


Turned over and overturned like the calender pages
With time everything we are, just ages.
Over the years, those small frustrations sum up
and glisten as golden memories that we look up.

We are defeated to within the perimeter of influence
and wallow in the ripples we create, taking pride
reading and re-reading the glory, we assure ourselves
of the contentment about the right things we did.

We are provincial optimists, hoping and groping
Finding joy in small things, marking them like the
timber to be felled, we go about experiencing.
Infinite of infinitesimal things there are!

There are flashes of bird's eye view at times
but we reject them for want of peace.
We are bound within the fringe
of the light through magnifying glass.
Out of tempest of youth we cross over
but soon we move into focus with light
around us and within us.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Come, hang yourself

That is what you are
and that is what you will be
a fly stuck in jaggery
in a cloying bondage.

Once in a while you metamorphose
into a free bird with a will to fly
but you go a distance and are brought
down by an innocent shooter.

You are that fly again and start over.

when will you give up trying?
We are all waiting here
deep in the gluey gloom
Come on. Come over.
Freedom is an illusion even in the open sky
with its endless traps.
Come, hang yourself to this pivot
and let the breeze vacillate you between infinities.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009


The cupboard smells of naphthalene
In the corner there are letters
"Open with a smile", written on their lips.
The windows are open like a dead man's eyes
and the sunlight slants forming a shadowy mesh
crawling to the opposite wall.

He abandoned the world for good.
He was never happy with the things.
Look, he forgot his glasses
He might be gone forever.
Must have walked himself into an accident.
What do we do now.
The fridge must have something to eat.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Paper clown

I will think of funny things
and write them down.
On paper, I will be
just like that clown

Instead of a splotchy attire
there would be naked words
Just the things needed
for a cloaking imagination.

I will look out of the window
and create something that's hard to chew
It might turn out that the only person laughing
would be me and me alone.
But don't look away
steady your gaze
because I ought to be funny.
There is no other way, the quivering
would escape my vocal chords.
Other than this.
Other than bliss.

Free verse

Long long ago and so long ago
there was something called rhyme
It did something.
I mean, it had to.
It was there for a purpose.
I forget its use now. But let us
just remember: it existed once.

Now it's Free verse
A balancing act under the gravity of its essence
that pulls it into a pile, around a
single line midway through the piece.
Carefully weighed punctuation and
well crafted words are needed
to maintain that fine balance.