i want to disappear
into the shadow of her
hips, and
die under the curve of
her breast. i am immoral
and immortal so i'll settle
in the shallows of her lungs
and breathe in
the smoke she
inhales, resting in
a grave close to the
heart that i surely
deserve.
she calls herself an urban escapist
sitting on the curb at night
unconscious of the miscreants
lurking just out of sight
she’s skipping stones in sewers
and wishing on copter stars
she knows that her hours grow fewer
and that there will be nothing but scars
her stones are merely asphalt
her wishes are wasted on planes
she’s juxtaposing the city
and saving it from being mundane.
It hasn't been long since I had sworn vows
to only the sea and her brine's splendor
But I was quite unaware until now
that God created something worth much more
Never had I guessed there was a lady
who was as untamable as my lover
The waves thrash within her slight frame, matey
with similar power, I discovered
Behold the flames burning in her iris!
They dance with the same vigor as the sea
when the clouds swirl and are not desirous
to an experienced sailor like me
And if this be mutiny, my dear friends
then with Davy Jones I will make amends.
The sun flies till the day is bled
The lily leans to the flower bed
The silence comes, the mind is fled;
Man, the rarest species of the dead
The love does shiver in the shade
The grasses bend, blade by blade
To gods bread, this feast arrayed
The picture persists, the subject fades
Houses are emptied and replaced
Immortality perches upon the mantle place
In the seconds march we lose our face
Till only the name perpetuates
The dove is trapped within a cage
Its soul longs to fly free
But wings and legs are bound
By the wax of a candle burning
This candle burns the nerves
And leaves the body helpless
Just a pile of wax
Cold, hard and caging in
The dove's mind is still a gem
But its body won't do its bidding
As everyday a new feather is plucked
A step towards a pile of wax
I am the dove - I long to fly free
But the only way to do this
Is when the cage door opens
To lift me to my grave
Life's Moods
Movement 1 Movement 2
The feeling comes again. Exhausted, numb, confused
Loss, a break in relationship, Thougths cross the mind
The echo of the past But cannot be held,
Creeping into the present. All seems transitory.
Emptiness surrounds the heart, Wrapped in misery
An ache that stays within. There seems no way to break through
While the lips try a smile Lies suspend truth
To keep the world away. Blackness hems it in.
The house takes on a chill Self-pity takes control
Devoid of warmth, Obscures reason
Its story suspe
Still noon in the paddy fields
in Kerala, we sank a well
to stem the flow of desert,
but came up smelling of dust.
Watched rice plants wither as the slow sun
silenced resolve in angry glare,
and warm dry gusts scattered
hope to the four corners.
In Palakkad, an empty street, sold
to ten million-dollar-a-day death,
men nurse wounds and children.
The women have gone to find water-
when the supply runs altogether dry,
we may find out how to swallow
the dust. Or our pride. Lesson taught,
we shall learn to drink coke.
Still noon in the baking heat
within the walled compound, we
stand around on wounded feet
spreading slurry on