Naked rainbows

There lies a glowing globe
with holes punched into
Eyes look through them
Eyes he remembers

He sits dwarfed
 by
shadows of the dawdling sun
leaning backwards against the window
His head rocks back and forth
over the frame
where sits quivering under the dusky
skylight
his last stub
still burning

Burning like the hole by the side of his head
as blood runs down the side of
his lusty arms

The blood circles his feet for about an hour
before floating across them
across the floor
blackening
as it reaches the ashes of his children
still without  promises
                        kept

Eulogy

In the distance
           somewhere
a rainbow wonders
why it has to wear colors
                           today

corner of the road

millions pass
with eyes squirming inside
their heads

once in a while someone walks

eyes closed
drifting away from spaces
these marauding vehicles come from
drawing patterns on sounds
and fading into them

and if you stood on the
corner i did
you would know..

"its poetry "

Like father,like son

Father don't leave me
inked on a piece of paper
lying shriveled
quivering
door to door
between fast moving cars
on this raging asphalt
that you never chose to cross 
                              yourself...

welcome the wrath..

Wrath has come down from the hills to enlist
Me surely in his brindled generation,
The race of the tiger;come down at last
Has wrath to build a bonfire of my breast
With one wet match and all man's desolation
   
                                              -from stanley kunitz's 'welcome the wrath'

i will start soon...

Battle of stalingrad (photo by Georgii Anatolyevian Zelma (Uzbeki, 1906-1984) )

Last night i saw loose shells
spill open halfway to the sky
forming glowing molluscs
color dressed like glimmering green and red romantic nights

it made me think of you....

sometimes i forget your name
because of the blue bellied sunsets
but whoever it is
that reads these letters

i tell myself everyday i have to stay alive
                                         to find you....
and i will start soon....

desires and demolitions...

i limp through my yesterdays
see eyes that held tomorrows like
diadems

they wouldn't believe
that
nothing ever really glittered
in the end..

dreamscape

i have seen the sunset....
limber through streets
like fire through an empty vessel ...
i've never been helplessly awake...
never tried harder to sleep....

one of these days i shall jump
                                      off
the debt my questions soar to
watch the sun go down
                           again
in a day in a tale.
on another dream..that
might ask.....
why do this??.

"let me sleep.....
just let me sleep"......

in everyone's diary....

there have been too many lies
that have run
                             through the night
one of these mornings
your windows 
               will shriek.....

diaspora-'shimla'

under my sun i always slept

beside the river, beside

                      its floods

                      shallow

'shimla'

the aspens yielded

to an awakening

and i have since

      been diving

      breathless

 

              

the city

i reach out to the trees
that reach for shade
lost to me
as i lost to them.......

a smile to remember..

each time
in the lowly streets
i blink
for every smile that looks me straight

the sun rises remissly
subdued by the lecherous night
elevators start punching the thickish air
as ropewalkers take the stairs

one of who


after perishing beneath the beastly morning rushers
putrescent by the sidewalk lay
cold in his own tepidness
sniveling heavily over whose headless remains
the woman who blinded me everyday....

a black day turning blue

"i've not been having the best of days recently"

"why ??what happened??" i replied..squirming for space

there was an effervescent zest in everything he talked about
how may killed april and the lilacs with it,
how the ashen foliage in the corner wasn't fooling anyone
how the girl he thought he had married was not
the one he did marry when he married her

the whole political conundrum was a scam
orchestrated by some obvious friend of his
half the world would soon come down with a flu and
fascism would soon be the only ideology left
and everyone's predilection towards busty women

"i just lost my job..it was a mess..."

"why ??"i asked again feeling the cushion for a wider hinging

"did i tell you about those lilacs??"

"why would she leave you ?"
i retorted...
"who ??" he politely inquired
"the girl you married "

"what girl ?? "
what an oaf .i addressed myself.
"aahhh !!! leave it.." i scoffed with disbelief as i denuded one of the gleaming bottles

"Again who are you ???" he asked me...but i had already gotten up to leave
irated by his boorish attitude..

"where do you think you are going" he asked beseechingly

i ruminated for some time standing there...studied my hands for a moment ....
"why would she leave you"
he seemed unperturbed by my question..a smirk abrasioned his face
"who the hell is she "
"the girl you married " i confirmed...
i thought he did not want to talk about it any further ...so i mitigated
"its okay if you don't want to tell me...i can understand"
 he pushed his chest out and glared with aversion

"what the hell can you understand....you don't even know me"
i smiled and almost gloatingly announced...
"nobody does ...nobody "
and left the place in breaking din

cacophany

Resting on his vagrant windows
the sun flickering pendulously in his head
the moist grime sticks to his elbows
splotched with morning sickness
as the draught dwindles under his festering breath

he had not seen the sunrise
until today
when he woke up from his occult dream
lying deflated and nailed to the floor
staring at the wet ceiling
that dripped with pours of sweat
probably off her breasts
and kissed the embers
of his deliquescent eyes


In his room like a submarine
lit
he wheedled himself
that she will knock on his door,
and  illustrate how she gouged the plaster
do drop her love like
paper pins on his impressionable pillow


she
above his somber slough
                 all night long
stared at the floor she had flooded
                            again
with a drowning pail and ubiquity
of the frequencies she changed
beseechingly
as her confidant embarked on
his widowmaker
                       one last time

'totem'

i dreamt of black n white
      rainbows
cycle over dry
   meadows
that hung perpetually
 south
from the roofs of
  vestibules
that rested without pillars
on my vacuous
     conscience
i have dreamed being awake
but not waking up
i have dreamed  falling
from innocence
but not how i got  there

i now wonder where do objectives
come from
and just how many
              elevators
run in this space

maybe the awakening still awaits
the right elevator
a dream half remembered
or
half forgotten

5 days-aditya bahl

Aditya walks down this awkward backstreet everyday

the tin roofs collaring vividly the designed windows
glisten with smears of red and yellow
that bounce off the sun's flaccid cheeks
somewhere behind the pruned
gray hallmarks,they call houses
the air jerks off
the pristine walkers
with its sultry overtones
managing to prick those who sit and watch

Some ordinary curtains married
to a wooden frame
blow towards the west that stares
at him from beyond the thoroughfare
As the wind is pushed through the alley
his head disappears behind the muffling curtains
he feels as if stabbed by a smile
running through
the air divided alleys
that sidle hi arms

the windows feel betrayed
and so do the people inside
Aditya remembers it was westwards
he had to go
he has been standing here for more than a minute now

the sun is about to go down on
the incumbent curtains
while the east is already groping with flashlights
This was the first moment in the last 5 days that he did not feel like crying....

CHECKPOINT !!!

                                                                                   "i thought this was it "

a roulette number

i'm not even the promiscous

                                        ball
i'd rather be the gun
that shoots the damn thing
amidst its pointless travels
            and calls it the clincher

from carlin

                                                                        (1937-2008)


Personally, when it comes to rights, I think one of two things is true. I think either we have unlimited rights, or we have no rights at all. Personally I lean towards unlimited rights, I feel for instance I have the right to do anything I please, BUT! If I do something you don’t like I think you have the right to kill me. So where are you gonna find a fairer fucking deal than that? So the next time some asshole says to you “I have the right to my opinion.” You say, “oh yeah? Well I have the right to my opinion and my opinion is you have no right to your opinion!” then shoot the fuck and walk away…  (its bad for ya,2008)

the poster boy's delight

The air is trivial
for it stinks like scum
that hangs from the roofs
of gutters
that show love to me

this kid i watch rubs his hands
mercilessly
trying to get glue out of his fingers
that sticks to him like a bad word someone once said
that i know all about
A man comes by and hands him a folded paper plate
i launch my umbrella towards the sky
for the air is heavy and poised to vomit

he puts out his hands as if to beckon punishment
As the drops grow heavier
his hands return to softness he had forgotten
the adhesive drips like molten lead to the ground
he manages a smile,i think
and then picks up the plate
which is gluey all the same
but he doesn't mind,neither do i

my chauffeur arrives and i board with relief
the rain is causing a mess
i look out towards the boy

his paper plate sits filled and untouched on the pavement

i twist my muscles further and i see him fighting
to keep photographed heads above ground
the poster almost falls upon his embrace
as if to save him from the rain
but he doesn't mind
before i can see anymore the cold engine
lets out a rant
and runs me away
from the blur i can hardly open my eyes to

Bootleg

i sleep with half my face off the bed
probably mishearing
a bereaved child's prayer
that renunciates off these plastic walls
his naked moans of brutality as focussed
lens keepers summarize him
i snort and die in front of me
lined up
alongside him
a jingle would wake me up
maybe would wake us all up

I'll die in tokyo tonight...

I've been sitting in this carousel for 4 hours
Its intentionally dark in here
But the light still perches in my head
I see faces
but i cannot tell the way they look at me
i'm sure they study me
i have just risen up from kissing the floor

The puffy bartenter tells me to quit the scene
After being led to
i saunter off towards the exit
I smell of grapes,vinegar and disgrace
I never knew what that felt like
i guess i still don't

As i now waddle towards the door
bequeathing all strength to my legs
i lay my eyes upon this picture
that hangs till death on the wall
it shows tall gray structures that
headlift the pale skyline
At the bottom a watermark says
tokyo,1960

i decide at that very moment
i will go to tokyo
right away

cyan-a 4 year ordeal is over....

in my lavender cave
my eyes scratch the notions of time
to find answers to puzzles that should have
remained untouched.
the world would have been interesting
this cave would have had a light
a brighter one
i realized just a moment ago
its not the blood that seems blue
but the ink that suffuses
beneath my skin...
i've lost a lot of blood in these four years....

The lady between the walls....

I buy me a friend everyday
sometimes its for what i haven't figured
the other times its for pleasure
Today i plan to walk out of here
unchained from this aggravating need

When its over
She notices a stranger in me
She proceeds to ask if the deal was even
I realize its not  the sex that brings me here
hence silence conquers
Until i say to her
"i shall not be visiting again"

She glues my eyes to her's
like a knife through the heart
as she has done many times ,literally
I love it when she does this
but today it tastes blood
"please don't judge me...i know the difference between right and wrong"

I get up and get dressed,muted
Before closing the door on my way out
She searches for me
her painted cheeks, palish by her tears
 and i say....
"But now you know more"

A case for hope...

Every night a poignant soul
walks out to the lure of the moon
the locus of whose betrayal
carves an arc
around
His timid existence
and
calls it hope....
Hope that it shall go shallow

Forget it !!

Her eyes sting 

every time i try to swallow them

With my favourite wine...

This wine is dull 

I'm always awake........

Under the stars......

"under the stars when you feel you're touched by the ocean
its difficult to breathe
you are kissed by the mist
of his underlying desperation
floating over the peak of this paramount moment
breathe
...this moment won't let you....
He won't let you......"

touch me not

you're not the apparition i expected
neither am i what you had
the levels give a way
the eclipsed half of your sticky head
under the moon of self construed adolescence
to what you mildly refer to as attitude
and i affably

the thing i cannot fuck..

Your stuck-up windows

i wonder why you plant holes in these walls
to prevent the breeze sweep the pride off your possessions
the dust off your stale breathe
the sun reminds you of what morbidly lives outside
to which you pull down the curtains
Before your heartbeat is situated
Just as someone's lost in the mist of thought
that climbed too slowly above your eyes
to which you would close them,ofcourse

Behind these walls you may crash into
her someday as these films say chosen to
bathe in the sunshine
As u squat just below the window's open arms
hidden behind your own
weeping for a day that belonged to her
And hoping these windows don't walk beside you ......

Truce almighty

Almighty,
A day if you dare to choose to sit beside me
tell me your glorified  biographies were true
that impetus to beckon for a forgotten promise
died with hunger that a labouring mother succumbed to


Just put your hand around me
dismissing  prestige of the tricks you claim to pull
And tell me i can go through thin and thick
extradite the faith i so weakly
prayed to you with

And then maybe
you can be my friend...

first last peace

As a child in your mother's womb
With only her heartbeat to learn of
Is probably your last memory of peace

Too bad you can't remember........

When a wave dies...

Tired and scalped with responsibility notes
An animal chauffer's my wheels
As i ride this drying vessel
Since aeon belonging to me

And when its over i lie back with blankness for actions
A timeline waits

And i wait too.....for

The next erection.....

The boat that rocks between you and me

on the waterfront rocks a boat
flattered by the waves that tween with structure
you move up and down with eyes that hide
the ecstasy of what i picture lives at sea
a drop of your sweat dances on my neck
As the mercury plummets with your lips
Your hair i deem the magic locks
My hands search for the secrets befallen
i hold on to the roundness of your blossoms
heave you above the heat
as the the boat rocks with willfull glee
The waves with reluctance wish to overturn
As the moans grow above the trees
Bite your lip for the moment cries silence
the waves don't cry no warnings
your breasts lethargic in time
pass my eyes like the rudder's history
i plunge into the waters behold
the anchor's world upside down
i swallow the ocean as i stroke
with breath that gulfs from shore
you bloom like the sun's child
in my lap you shine
pouring down my tender lips
the waves burn me inside
on the deck as they sweep you off
the boat that rocks at sea

Crossroads

I stand a feeble man.My senses disobey my worthiness.The rain rumbles and gurgles the roof but the drops seem to bypass me like the wind.I offer my hand to the demonic downpour but nothing stirs a response.I don’t seem to remember a moment before this.As if all my life i have been here.This is all in know.I look around with hope to see someone i know of.None are the faces i may have known for none i remember anymore.The drops of the rain swoosh by my ears like the breeze but none touch me close.The breeze seems an agent of silence falling over.There are faces here that i don’t know.

An old woman with a infant in her arms.Wrapped in a blanket she sways it gentle.The child must be crying for her attempts to reconcile seem dire but not to my ears.Dressed in furry black coat and a hand woven hat the woman seems old .Her shoes boast of longing since she was young .She seems Old enough to not to play mother to the child in her fold.I walk towards her to get a glimpse of from where the commotion springs.As i walk closer to her she looks up at me.She utters some words of which none i hear.Without responding i walk towards her.My ignorance to response doesn’t seem to bother her.Her lips seize to move and i no longer am fixated on the idea of interpreting what she said.I walk slow for it seems a heavy walk.I reach by the woman who looks at me with hardened eyes for something plays with her mind.I bend over to witness the charm of nuisance .

The sound of the drops elevate like a heart beat.The mnemonics of the gurgles ride the notes of thunder .My eyes bulge at the site i see.The blanket envelops nothing but air and soul but unlike the one i’ve ever seen.My legs weakened by the trip i made suddenly find life from a place as i step backwards.My head fails to comprehend what i just saw.There was nothing in the warm abode.But something referred to me a presence.Something i knew.Something dark and ominous .My head hurts from thought.A sudden explosion of pain grips my chest.I stutter to the ground .The woman is unmoved.Her face as lifeless as the baby she holds.

The swaying continues like the heavens that cry.
The woman poaches with words at the turbulence.The view of her now blurred by the droplets i feel.Her lips move again but nothing penetrates the noise.The pain clutches my chest as i’m driven to moan.My eyes still chase the moment from before.I confront plenty a times of what it was.Maybe she wants to tell me something.Maybe she wants to tell me what it is.Maybe she knows who the hell i am.
The pain is rescued by the head.The heavens seem silent again.The droplets no longer sensitize.The vision is refined as she sways her child back and forth.I return to normalcy and look around for answers.A man stands at the edge of the shelter.He ventures into the rain every now and then but returns unscathed.I find an accomplice in this quest of mine.I walk to him as the walk is heavier than before.
My mind afresh of the ghastly image i saw.As i walk towards a playful soul i look back .Blood runs through her veins but maybe not in her head.She probably does’t know anything of the world.Maybe she is blind .But then her eyes were acquainted with the site if me.Her vision seemed to flutter for once i noticed.

I reach by the man in his youth .I tap his shoulder to warrant his attention.The figure remains oblivious to my presence.I tap the shoulders once again as he is not moved in any form.I tap again with a heavier hand but he remains lifeless.His hands presented to the rain but just like mine they deceive the obvious.
I step forward to face the prick.The raindrops gather speed with which they fall.The sound amplifies to a fearful crescendo.The grim returns and i fall on my back.The fall seems to skip foreplay but the pain begins to pound like a million heartbeats.The droplets slide down my neck and the cold grips my bones.The view is reduced to blur again.

I drag myself away from the freak.The pain pulls me to hell and back.I begin to moan with intolerance.As i drag myself away from him the woman seems to gesture.Her hands rip apart the blur that surrounds me.I try to gather as much as i can.She points to something on the floor as her utterance filters through the noise.
“ You are bleeding”
I gaze at the pool of redness i find myself submerged in.I wipe the floor as if beneath it lies an answer to all the riddles.The redness slowly spreads over the floor and reaches the woman.Just before the colour paints her leather she lifts her feet and crosses her legs to hide them under.Her arms hold what i could not comprehend and still sways it back and forth unmoved by what unfolds around her.
I follow the pain into my fabric from where the eruptions lay path.The white is soaked with red.I reach the heart of reason.My touch drops me into sufferance of an unimaginable nature.Tears surface as my eyes well with the agony i inherit.

I look up as the lips move again.
“Its time to go”
The words echo in this boundless surround.A shade of blackness descends and eats the light.The pains begins to ease as the blood begins to recede.The fabric approaches dryness as the darkness takes over .The legs find strength as to my feet i raise myself.

The woman now stands close to me.Her eyes see through me as she moves a step closer.She puts forward the mystery she holds.

“Do you want to carry our baby”
Darkness has me as as memories return on the chariot of fate, life crumbles and oblivion takes over.