Poems & Quick Links
Lazarus is Calling
Dark night is closer,
Calling, calling from the trees
Night owls are crying
Ominous is dancing in the branches
Of slow time, night unfolds
Its ranges of stories, night’s acts.
All dead voices lying ice cold
Are up with night’s song
Night’s mysteries are awake
After a long cold sleep.
Foul smells hard, ghostly
Bodies decaying flesh.
One uncouth face conjures up,
Other unshaped faces, deep dark.
Only the hooded eyes
Strange sounds of murmur. Callings.
Nobody is awake, at this dead hour
only a child’s shrill cry. Hags’ hooting.
Spirits of the dead have a night out
For an appointment with the unknown.
Happy Green Home
When you have come braving the storm
I welcome you, Come.
When you love me clinging to the tattered parts
Come, I trust you.
I know that you will stand with me in my trying days
I am not alone, will be aloud with the wind.
The Moon and the terrace exchanges words
They will meet up after an erratic spell of rain.
I may meet the Fate many a times
In these long afternoons
We have oceanic love, love for all.
The maximum is emotion, trees green.
I am nobody’s slave, not a banana , not the radish
I am not a thing to be sold in the market
I write two lines, so many others write
Thousands and thousands words. A Home
After so many houses.
The Renaissance Man
For Rob Harle
Is rustling of trees
Where spring eggs,
Passions blush as roses,
There buds open tenderly. Clouds
Court after the morning rain.
Poetic lines flower
Among dry rocks of my land.
My Dulung floods
With monsoons from the eyes.
Where you and I swim.
Nimbin is love’s dream
Where night’s eyes go insane.
Clouds have done their best.
My world breathes
The distance of your face.
We are connected
In the open sky
With slow promise of the night.
Gently, we step into our smiles–
Through small rides.
Peace escorts our books
To the lake serene.
Soil Of My Birth
When I stand near the soil of my birth
I remember my aging mother.
I see long breaths on naked letters
For hunger, food and honour
My eyes are wet for mid night consoling.
By deep veins and sub veins
frayed faces of life are showcased.
All these faces are still live
In the heart, deep.
Life was not great for all
Injured butterflies smiling in distress
breathing hard in fishing nets
losing all chroma, the smell of yesterdays
with the rhythm of passing hours.
From the caves of the mountains
I come out, all blind
I See all around, ptyalin from saliva
Patches of blood below the feet.
A flame sparks in the heart.
October rain is breaking everything,
all laws, only wishes. Unspoken.
WEATHER CARD FOR MY POEMS
I don’t know whether I can make it
I may lose my weather inside its darkness
The large entrance of her smiles
is a scream that never ends.
Its deep streets
allure me like a floodgate.
The moon stays, my leaves fall
in that riot of colours.
The shore keeps me knocking,
My heart has a beloved, the face is dark.
I could hold myself no longer
With a faint part l dearly
possess, history bone-deep
A new light lays open things.
All are fired by the rainy weather.
Music At Hearts
Let us press hard, and all shall see
glory of our happy Deity.
All contacts are restored, Miss calls
are called back in social malls, cafes and clubs.
After this spell of hotspot. life
has a happy turn braving the gutter.
Rivers are brimming with foams of
heart’s music behind the brow.
Love spreads arms to embrace all
Sita’s sisters are rejoicing, faithfully.
All spaces are conquered, hearts healed up
Dalit brothers hold a map and a brush.
Love’s weather has no expiry date
it runs into happy rainy hearts.