1 Oasis in memories of desert rhythm of wilderness sand is the poetry 2 Man turns a shadow under tree arches rainbow is the moonlight fog 3 My restlessness blooms not thought but ulcer in the stomach the flux of shadows shape loss of my son in the picture hall I 'wait interval 4 Do you hear pulses of memory in graveyard she groans in her dream I search my voice in echoes that break silences of the soul in space 5 The mirror is so small I can't see the ocean beyond my own look 6 Is it her quietus that she roars in herself like a sea waves upon waves leaps upon herself? 7 He unpetals a rose searching seeds through tangled fingers in thorny womb it's bleeding hopes 8 She picks out black seeds of some flowers and says: "Papa, these are souls, let's sow them here tomorrow they'll grow as ghosts.
" 9 As I curled 'long her we became a small rainbow playing earth and sky in half-dream weaving legends of love in moments unmemoried years 10 I leave my memories in prayerful trance float above my body till rapping her fingers at my soul she breaks the silence: "I've come with my dreams promised years ago.
Won't you once kiss and melt in me? 11 Blessed is the bedroom the bathroom the kitchen the drawing room the terrace the lawn and every little place and spot where weprayed or sexed together we glorified our house and declared His mysteries 12 Love is efflux from her body spreading all round the parabolic hue enlightens the self my being I merge in her glowing presence 13 Dancing shades devour waking tensions for a moment closed eyes dissolve years of clog within the four walls the flame is freed from cloying dalliance for a moment it's all calm in her presence 14 When I wanted to change seats my friend said she can, only if the door's locked the lights out and her mommy in another city 15 She slams the door topowder herself or spray Eau de Toilette in bed strange I hear only the kettle sing 16 While I sweat in mosquito-net waiting for a kiss she goes to sleep loosening her breasts and removing her feet and eyes and covers them under the sheet for safe-keeping 17 If passion breeds beads of sweat in winter night the plateau is reached too much love can run one out 18 Down the corridors of night I see love dying for a chance vegetation in sleepless dreams 19 Among the white hairs a solitary black one keeps her hope alive 20 Layers of dust thicken on the mirror water makes the smuts prominent: I wipe and wipe and yet the stains stay like sin 21 My wife laughs when I say man seldom loves beauty: when he sees a woman he only sees her busts and bottoms and length of bone in mouth intelletualising his itches he yearns to sink in mud by the fig-leaf hue of hair 22 When the oleander was drying I peed at its roots three times a day she laughed at me but the shrub survived and bloomed all red "How beautiful" she said when I plucked them for puja this morning she shouted "Don't defile my goddess these flowers smell pee" 23 Their nude dance is no mean art to rouse passion: with apple flowers they race to find match for upstanding nipples under transparent blouse 24 Charm is the spirit of beauty divine mysterious honest expression of the self not seen but felt 25 Away from myself I need a little breathing with my back straight fora spell of privacy in my happier deep the womb of December and hear the first cries I cried with the sun in apure moment 26 The quietest moment when one is ones own is in toilet or bath reflecting inside out through daily deeds listening to whispers that rip cosmetic simplicity or split the landscape in hands when elusive strength blasts in silent search in hollowness leaving a dazed mind in crypt 27 The gates that clang won't still with poems between their jaws I must stop winds to prevent them tossing into the empty void 28 With the passage of time the sun's become dull and unrefreshing like my dreams turned weaker than weariness now in the desert of desires no cactus blooms nor a hand beckons me back to a world of hope here breathing fossils and watching snaky waves let me grab a moment for poetry and live: I pity the mind that harbours ages of anguish and crawls consciousness through knots in wrinkles 29 Poetry is not just functional like brief-case it is personal-- an extension of my self 30 I live with ailments like fretful years creating gospels that support the world and sting my days with cold fictions 31 They say Jupiter reveals the inner man the invisible hidden within and my horoscope spotlights the direction of my destiny the sanskar of my soul well-placed as benefactor but what is the spiritual progress with a strong drink in hand the visible heaven in the present the pitch that directs the runs the battles I fight for existence in Saturn world without energy, life or joy? 32 What is this life like the sun rising and dying someone beginning and someone stopping without presence being felt without effect, striking, ending long rituals of waste? nothing saved except years squandered in bed feigning and unfeigning the blood flows but doesn't complain: time seals the strife born, married and dead? 33 Each one fears each one is insecure here each one doubts with clouds in the mind each house is a secret silent arrogance bridges distance between the hands and what they need they don't speak out but search their fate in circles of coffee if bored of the drudgery seeterror in their own piss or dig atoms of betrayal in walls that make up the secret and sleep their drugged nights murmuring the bank balance 34 Their hands are sulphur with butcher strength above the pit they drift like shadow against dying sun longer than themselves against the floodlight from dome they create new 'glyphs to feed night to sunken world 35 The morning's withered flesh and swollen skin of the day by bloody nullah in smoke tears shade tomorrow like today, everyday they cry but nobody hears groans, or sees dark eruptions on naked walls that hide maps of bones and skeins of dreams piled beside broken hearth hate is a luxury of helplessness they won't believe or accept if there is a hell on earth it's here, it's here.
It's here 36 Boneless shadows empty lawns moon through ribs of the arbour and tumult of the flesh crack shells of pain: whose are the hands that weave nightmares with ashes of rose and face of a woman? 37 The old rats in nature's breach design new rooms to negotiate disgrace and belief beyond election with plastic sense enrich their substance drinking, voting, smiling 38 A horse-headed thief bullied the bearded man like the mythical demon who disappeared with the Vedas but no fish appeared to rescue him 39 Every face is a finger peeling off skin like banana erect or twisted 40 Man with head twisted like a manager's tail in chair before boss with pen in blood 41 My bones have holes for eyes I search my teeth in the muck leeches have sucked my blood where's the lout who ate my flesh? 42 Beard grows like fog on their cheeks in half-dead streets night slides like yoke to release them in glass chambers mummies need no sun 43 Sheep grazing the rainy green after days of sunless day crouching I stir from hibernation seeking a handful belonging in aloneness of wild growth eluding the mossy gateway and patterns of walls, sheep and sun 44 Suddenly through the spring blows hot the wind circulating colours of summer shabby roads and houses dust inside outside melt silence like tar or bleach skulls that thought once, now fossil like rocks in ageless hibernation my quest ends or stirs lewd rituals stomping about fresh bit in thongs I don't know what it is the cheek of terror or sweat of skin or wind is grasping for breath? 45 They take away the day's flower husk I retain for tomorrow nobody knows what the robbers may look for 46 What I write shows my past even if frail like leaves of years: I love the wind if it makes the city flutter 47 Harmony in duality is unity of tongues to sculpt new dreams made of living rock.
we aren't different in our same land: our poems are woven from the same skein of language weathered by time and nature 48 The solitary bird like uninspiring tracks moves alien homeward 49 The whispers of the forest inside me will be quiet tomorrow and no tree will weap no one knows what was the weather like in the heart negotiating ideas and images
" 9 As I curled 'long her we became a small rainbow playing earth and sky in half-dream weaving legends of love in moments unmemoried years 10 I leave my memories in prayerful trance float above my body till rapping her fingers at my soul she breaks the silence: "I've come with my dreams promised years ago.
Won't you once kiss and melt in me? 11 Blessed is the bedroom the bathroom the kitchen the drawing room the terrace the lawn and every little place and spot where weprayed or sexed together we glorified our house and declared His mysteries 12 Love is efflux from her body spreading all round the parabolic hue enlightens the self my being I merge in her glowing presence 13 Dancing shades devour waking tensions for a moment closed eyes dissolve years of clog within the four walls the flame is freed from cloying dalliance for a moment it's all calm in her presence 14 When I wanted to change seats my friend said she can, only if the door's locked the lights out and her mommy in another city 15 She slams the door topowder herself or spray Eau de Toilette in bed strange I hear only the kettle sing 16 While I sweat in mosquito-net waiting for a kiss she goes to sleep loosening her breasts and removing her feet and eyes and covers them under the sheet for safe-keeping 17 If passion breeds beads of sweat in winter night the plateau is reached too much love can run one out 18 Down the corridors of night I see love dying for a chance vegetation in sleepless dreams 19 Among the white hairs a solitary black one keeps her hope alive 20 Layers of dust thicken on the mirror water makes the smuts prominent: I wipe and wipe and yet the stains stay like sin 21 My wife laughs when I say man seldom loves beauty: when he sees a woman he only sees her busts and bottoms and length of bone in mouth intelletualising his itches he yearns to sink in mud by the fig-leaf hue of hair 22 When the oleander was drying I peed at its roots three times a day she laughed at me but the shrub survived and bloomed all red "How beautiful" she said when I plucked them for puja this morning she shouted "Don't defile my goddess these flowers smell pee" 23 Their nude dance is no mean art to rouse passion: with apple flowers they race to find match for upstanding nipples under transparent blouse 24 Charm is the spirit of beauty divine mysterious honest expression of the self not seen but felt 25 Away from myself I need a little breathing with my back straight fora spell of privacy in my happier deep the womb of December and hear the first cries I cried with the sun in apure moment 26 The quietest moment when one is ones own is in toilet or bath reflecting inside out through daily deeds listening to whispers that rip cosmetic simplicity or split the landscape in hands when elusive strength blasts in silent search in hollowness leaving a dazed mind in crypt 27 The gates that clang won't still with poems between their jaws I must stop winds to prevent them tossing into the empty void 28 With the passage of time the sun's become dull and unrefreshing like my dreams turned weaker than weariness now in the desert of desires no cactus blooms nor a hand beckons me back to a world of hope here breathing fossils and watching snaky waves let me grab a moment for poetry and live: I pity the mind that harbours ages of anguish and crawls consciousness through knots in wrinkles 29 Poetry is not just functional like brief-case it is personal-- an extension of my self 30 I live with ailments like fretful years creating gospels that support the world and sting my days with cold fictions 31 They say Jupiter reveals the inner man the invisible hidden within and my horoscope spotlights the direction of my destiny the sanskar of my soul well-placed as benefactor but what is the spiritual progress with a strong drink in hand the visible heaven in the present the pitch that directs the runs the battles I fight for existence in Saturn world without energy, life or joy? 32 What is this life like the sun rising and dying someone beginning and someone stopping without presence being felt without effect, striking, ending long rituals of waste? nothing saved except years squandered in bed feigning and unfeigning the blood flows but doesn't complain: time seals the strife born, married and dead? 33 Each one fears each one is insecure here each one doubts with clouds in the mind each house is a secret silent arrogance bridges distance between the hands and what they need they don't speak out but search their fate in circles of coffee if bored of the drudgery seeterror in their own piss or dig atoms of betrayal in walls that make up the secret and sleep their drugged nights murmuring the bank balance 34 Their hands are sulphur with butcher strength above the pit they drift like shadow against dying sun longer than themselves against the floodlight from dome they create new 'glyphs to feed night to sunken world 35 The morning's withered flesh and swollen skin of the day by bloody nullah in smoke tears shade tomorrow like today, everyday they cry but nobody hears groans, or sees dark eruptions on naked walls that hide maps of bones and skeins of dreams piled beside broken hearth hate is a luxury of helplessness they won't believe or accept if there is a hell on earth it's here, it's here.
It's here 36 Boneless shadows empty lawns moon through ribs of the arbour and tumult of the flesh crack shells of pain: whose are the hands that weave nightmares with ashes of rose and face of a woman? 37 The old rats in nature's breach design new rooms to negotiate disgrace and belief beyond election with plastic sense enrich their substance drinking, voting, smiling 38 A horse-headed thief bullied the bearded man like the mythical demon who disappeared with the Vedas but no fish appeared to rescue him 39 Every face is a finger peeling off skin like banana erect or twisted 40 Man with head twisted like a manager's tail in chair before boss with pen in blood 41 My bones have holes for eyes I search my teeth in the muck leeches have sucked my blood where's the lout who ate my flesh? 42 Beard grows like fog on their cheeks in half-dead streets night slides like yoke to release them in glass chambers mummies need no sun 43 Sheep grazing the rainy green after days of sunless day crouching I stir from hibernation seeking a handful belonging in aloneness of wild growth eluding the mossy gateway and patterns of walls, sheep and sun 44 Suddenly through the spring blows hot the wind circulating colours of summer shabby roads and houses dust inside outside melt silence like tar or bleach skulls that thought once, now fossil like rocks in ageless hibernation my quest ends or stirs lewd rituals stomping about fresh bit in thongs I don't know what it is the cheek of terror or sweat of skin or wind is grasping for breath? 45 They take away the day's flower husk I retain for tomorrow nobody knows what the robbers may look for 46 What I write shows my past even if frail like leaves of years: I love the wind if it makes the city flutter 47 Harmony in duality is unity of tongues to sculpt new dreams made of living rock.
we aren't different in our same land: our poems are woven from the same skein of language weathered by time and nature 48 The solitary bird like uninspiring tracks moves alien homeward 49 The whispers of the forest inside me will be quiet tomorrow and no tree will weap no one knows what was the weather like in the heart negotiating ideas and images