1
I make myself man
each time I create
setting, character, tone
in a poem
create poetic sense
disclose my natural being
playing five senses
my distortions and inversions
evolve in history and society
to save the man in me
through poetry of self
2
The seed of my song
lies deep in memory
like paddy in field
blooms ages when wind
blows inside out and grows
genes in womb, turns self
3
A poem is madness
unique fascination
liberating language
re-creates, re-symbolises
disfiguring the known
secured norms
inverting the safe
existence
4
When sleepless poetry
fails to negotiate night
I wait for white dreams
5
The halo of my vision
is the Mothers gaze:
he whom I seek is
hidden in her eyes
shedding hope and love
all around her mercy
6
Love is my prison
and freedom both
in her presence
my wish her wish
to be everything
her shiva and
shakti a dual-single
me and she, one
7
Love leads to beauty
and vision with perfection
pillar of dust or
fleeting shadow can
turn into light revealing
pure songs wrought out of
the clay blending joys
in naked passion seek signs
of self-discovery
roving with delight
and perfume of fellowship
in valley of peace
8
Life limits between
whence the sun rises and where
it goes to relax:
joys of a fleeting moment
I see Aditi in her eyes
9
Love without clothes
without bone has
a joy within:
soft smooth and full
like the mind
creative and
erogenous
10
It hangs like a drop
any moment evaporate
love is gullible
11
When I inhale in
your mouth and exhale stroking
hairs or caressing
I ride you into joy and
make you hail the morning like earth
12
Rocked or burning within
poor performer
turns the hell inside out
cant dance on a taut rope
with fragile legs
enjoy flames of passion
love is a high explosive
not charged by
induced sexuality
13
Frosted faces dissolve in
stale rain clutching
female body and
poached contexts dizzyingly slip
from a vineyard
wholl treat them angels?
14
How can a poet
pierce through tamed passages
in the wolves psyche
too scared to peep:
in the walled academy
they lope with cold eyes
shielding some dumb myths
or haunted by empty hunts
parrying moments of truth
15
Theres nothing comfortable in the chilly gray wind and
what burns at the wintry end in Holi splash of colours
unglow what might have been left in ransacked ashes
they all witness the last shot of season in transition
like bare-branched trees unrelieving miseries of truth
in the unspirited campus and inscrutable shades
16
Winter is caught in
waves of narrow discussions
under the blanket
fingers move by nipples erect
without sensing consummation
17
I feel alone
like a wandering bird
without a nest:
empty without flame
the cave of the heart reeks of
forsaken island
18
Each day I construct
my self in new desires and
end in emptiness
a hollow shadow
I move in dust and rest in
stony webs of haze
19
In a grey morning
Its a foggy silent world
The stink of darkness
whenll the gulf open
stir the still horizons red
and swallow the wood
20
It needs heat
to eject a seed
and ripen to fruit:
mind makes its image
with imprints dumped in
forging rhymes
21
Bones of levity criss-cross
at the bottom of silence
there is no shape in the mind
22
As I did not earn my cross
they cheated me when
I bought it to pray
the satan sought my consent
to sin in silence
I was duped again
23
Memory fades
like her body
in dim light
I bury my head
in open hands
to escape noises
24
Is it the heat wave
or stupor that I see
shadows in the dark
and call it vision?
25
Summer turns prettier
after dust storm or rain
night alloys with cool colours
26
The colour of night is the same everywhere
what if my identity is not known
lets fuck the moment and forget the place
27
Waking up from a drugged sleep
I remember I was a butterfly
or butterfly dreamt me?
a sun away the brown of the walls
seemed flying with her shawl
and I couldnt overlook
I hunt a forgotten scene
outside the dusty road in summer
the flowers yellow and die
28
This morning autumn moves in the pool
I watch the deciduous trees and leaves decay
the air whirling with dust
the drains are choked and my forehead
smudged like the stained table:
the more I clean the more dirty
and the slow sun smiles in the backyard
over the bony back of a stray cow
I look for a bit of green at my door
but goats have jumped the fence
theres just one papaya flower
and remains of ber parrots dropped
its the same old agony in changing hues:
should I steal colours from butterflies
or contract prayers in their little wings?
29
From stony breaches
by roadside erupt
wild plants and creepers
through moss search their trellis
perhaps mime my attempts
at survival against
broken fences flinty knots
and shapeless shades in evening
30
The river walks without shoes
unsinging the nights hooligans
that scamper across the city
unbreasted years ago for
hawks of peace now midgeted
to amuse mornings that gaol
all fire and thoughts smitten by stones
of figures-to-be hewing
new melodies by black grass
past my shadow overarching
all listening and light and cliff
that hang the tale or pain the legs
no matter I walk without
the rest of the ground I tread
like river droning days ashes
31
The frog in mirror
slips by damp towel
cold sets in slippy hands
rain flows on windows
black water crawls down
like diseased reptiles
why scrub the smelly
underbellies
theres no paradise
32
With blurred landscape
painting dust all around
they become dust
fail to live life
hiding it from others
from themselves fail
33
The mask of man they paint
with so many fingers as brushes
mans only colour now
34
They hide the mirrors
with rose and lipstick
and keep their fiction
35
Apple, snake and three-fifths of me
in bed manipulates man
inside selfish rubbles
36
Growing hair on soul
man longs for known grooves of death
safe in sterile womb:
loving, impotent
lost in vanity and self-
commiseration
37
How many defy
the space between
sleep and leap
I hear sounds
of cracked mirrors
and torn veils
38
Crazy these people
dont know how to go
down with the swirl and
up with the whirl but
play in the raging water:
who can find the green dragon
lost in the yoni without?
39
Your black sunglasses
conceal the face that reveals
the real you in sun
40
Face lotus
tongue sandal
manners sweet
heart scissors
I know him
seasoned crook
41
We are a nation
of cowards worshiping dumb
images cant stand
a full-fleshed person speaking
nude in gods home like in bed
performing love with
wife or self in dark alone
ever ignorant
moralising
hell of fear
with legs tucked up
posing brave
42
Fear in the mind
runs us this way
and that reaching
nowhere spitting
anger against wind
singing threnodies
or cursing fate
43
Cant you drop your saree
and all that conspires to conceal
your nudity, my love
forsake your modesty
and see the naked passion in
my eyes seeking freedom
to unite and transform
the night through bodys dark alleys
dont you love your freedom?
44
Scratching between his legs
he creeped towards the fence
and said something to her
gawd, in a minute
I see her tending the blouse
half-hidden by roses
45
He presses her skin
or tastes the salty sweat
night singes genes in bed
loves eunuch game turns in
dreams to feed ignorance
leaning on sticky backs
of dead orisons
46
She put him off each time
he caressed her or
tried to kiss or crossleg
even bought her presents
to make her agree
but she wont care
till he raised the stick
and tamed her in bed
47
They make moments memorable
with quarrels over nothing
reduce relations to relic
48
A woman should complement
not complicate wanting love
and freedom both with sweetness
of the bone in mouth or
frenzied riding high or
grinding pubic regions
giving more and getting more
she must sound like a cologne
not sin or magic bullet
49
Woman is the flesh
and spirit of poetry
eternal love thirst
growing younger as
one grows older day by day
perfecting the body
50
An undressed woman
is a form to lay bare
the vulnerable
in myriad colours:
live sensuous delicious
like true sex exposing
naked truths through body
peep into ever
growing consciousness
51
Not with physical eyes
not in sleep or dream
nor in madness or in
hidden place or peace
but in imageless state
beyond human self
with eyes of the sipirit
when symbols one sees
visions are seen as grace
52
The split in cypress
is vulva I know the roots
purush-prakriti
call it Yin and Yang
our basic sex, lingam and
yoni harmonise
like lotus rising
from the depths of lake through mud
crossing existence
53
The fig of life with
roots above and branches below:
man and woman one
54
Dragons play whirlwind
among the clouds meet and rain
unite earth and sky
55
The mount of venus
rises above the mars
and unites on my palm
like a horse and elephant
56
Like a womans mind
resides between her thighs joy
and satisfaction
mans love and hatred
concentrate on the crevice
though he watches face
she laughs when I say
love and beauty is nothing
but sabre and sheath
57
In the lake of your eyes
I saw him drowning
but, who was the fisher
that netted him out?
58
In the forest of your hair
my finger searches
the little pearl of blood
that stirs the hidden waters
and contains my restlessness
59
I smell my boneless
semen under the pillow
weaving legends in
half-dream along her
hips as I curl like rainbow
dying winds splash down blots
60
The remains of morning
like the remaining work stare:
my pen is cold to words
in bed I keep with her
wondering what Id haul in our
burning, sleek, empty sex
now minds dried with dry hive
I cant create with bald head:
sky showers ashes of rose
61
The highwayman lies
to rob a moon with skull
whipping up valour:
she unzips her skirt
like the silkworm undoing
its yellow cocoon
62
My hand
held out in the dark
remained empty:
none reached it
to give joy of
the meeting hands
63
I dont know when or how cracks grew for love to fall through
but memory waves obstinately:
her thoughts recur even after the emptiness of
the sky blares and I cant hide numbness of the year
before Bulli but her coming to me
just to revive those moments of togetherness
in lovely valley turns cold and apathetic
sun rushes in home and sudden silence
is all that echoes in new years handshake with me
64
She wont understand
and force him yeah
always after hours
wishes of death and
shouts and blames
would ache his anger
in the testicles and
again she would tame
her man in bed
not knowing
what he has become
65
A meanest moment
of eternity it was
when I was conceived
after 40 years
I see same degeneration
my mother saw first
empty of poetry
stoic, dull and diffident:
always puny game
with triple fury
winds return and put out light
what use watching god?
66
Before it heals or
scars merge with times endlessness
morning brings new wounds
is there a release
from unloving life day by day
breathing heartless air?
67
Everything is falling apart
every wall is cracking
I too am breaking
to be someone and to belong
drink in love like many
secured sure happy
I too want to live and be loved
not piece by piece, friends
but, will they let me?
68
After the days blaring
hymns and mantras loudspeakers
and tribal drums and dance
to please the lion goddess
in roadside Puja pandals
there reigns frigid silence
69
No one sings these days
songs dont come easily
life has lost music
70
Giant smoke from the factory
mates with perfumed dhoopam
rising from the trucks carrying Durga
in the afternoon Subarnarekha
is crowded with idols and people
absorb shocks with reverence
suffer dust, mud and stench
71
Who is a gentleman here
everyone speaks more
than one tongue in self-interest
ditch everyone or
turn disinterested
in excuse curse everyone
or say its bad luck
72
The glow of victory
is deceptive coming from
frail mans needs and tears
midnight sighing of poor
deprived of the tree of wealth
bare body, dry land
where is light and grace
in ravished image of struggle
midst mute mass and doubts?
73
Death in silence speaks
moonlight cleaves to the body
peace gropes for poems
74
In flames rise voices
of futility and dreams
in dust fear and love
75
Time is running out
cracks in walls develop fast
but I stay static
shrouded in cobweb
as if in dusk denying death
brooding slipped chances
76
Cant I grab a little
warmth, fresh air and love
simple, sound and innocent?
Im fed up playing
life across the net
shuttling nightmare in cold
77
The moon rises with
million stars in sky
but none worship
the dying sun says
how alone one is
sinking in glory
78
What good will happen
waiting to leach through old layers
no use stay put here:
the leaves have turned moth
we cross-leg with crabbed wishes
erase one more year
Flying High
The headline could suggest a drunkalogue , but in fact its quite the opposite . after some years of coming to terms with my Alcoholism , I have managed to finally put down the drink 5 years ago , a day at a time .I was a Flight attendant based in London and had been flying to Los Angeles and back to London every week for about 18 months when I wen...
Fire Up Your Arizona Home Equity Loans
If youre a Harry Potter fan, you would never miss this fiery feathered creature named Fawkes, Professor Dumbledores pet phoenix. Everyone marveled at the ability of this mythical bird to burst into flames, die and develop itself into an egg again. Actually, you could read much about the phoenix in earlier literature. It was believed that the phoeni...
Networking for Aircraft Washing Companies
If you own an aircraft washing and cleaning service and you detail private aircraft and corporate jets out at the local airport then well, it makes sense to do a little net working around the airport in order to increase the number of clients that you have. For instance it makes sense to be on a first name basis with the owners and managers of the...
Responsibility in Home Loans Goes Both Ways
Whilst watching the news on a local Phoenix TV Station recently, I came across a human interest story about a couple who were in danger of losing their Phoenix home as they could not afford the payments. In this case, the homeowners had an interest rate of 9%, we will get to that later, and the mortgage broker who had arranged the loan in the firs...
Effective Networking
The process of finding out about a job, getting interviewed, and eventually receiving an offer for employment starts with networking. By networking I dont mean sending out hundreds of copies of your rsum unsolicited to H.R. managers throughout the country, but by establishing contacts with people who may be in a position to hire you or refer you to...
Feel the Joy
My grandmother died on January 1, 2007. She was my last living grandparent. Her name was Joy. She was 86.The funeral was in a small Wisconsin town about two hours from Milwaukee. I debated about going I live near Boston and it felt like a long flight and long drive. I'd miss being with my son for the weekend. Traveling to the funeral would jam up ...
Do Home Schooled Kids have Social Deficiencies?
Not long ago our Online Think Tank tackled some of the criticism coming from teachers and College Professors about Home Schooled kids. One College Professor stated that academically they were a mixed bag. Some were extremely well schooled and others had problems in some subjects. However as one 17 year veteran college professor put it; they ALL had...
