Monday, July 30, 2012

Good Night Quatrains


# 1

How long will this bitter winter last,
This chain of days with vibes cold,
When will the shy sun show its face,
And awaken summer to its warmth.

# 2

Walking across scorched sands of day,
Sheltering tired sun in my eyes,
May I dip my legs in the waters now,
Looking up to release sun back to sky?

# 3

Time for fishes is also that for fisherman,
Lowering the nets, taking to repose,
Next day’s snare is of destiny’s make,
Weaved into knots in the dark’s silence.

# 4

Why do the stars greet only the weary?
Wounded and licking after day’s battle,
There is such soothing canvas up above,
But eyelids close to such sparkling art.

# 5

I saw you as that twinkling lode star,
Learning too late of passing ships,
I saw no darkness in your dazzle,
And left my lamp to mercy of winds.

# 6

He was my King of Questions,
Saw in me his Queen of Answers,
Questions remain as He was,
Answers forgot what She became.

# 7

I trace across the lines on my palm,
Those of fate, fortune and the heart,
In trail of snakes, ascent of ladders,
Your future indeed is in your hands.
  
# 8

Price hike is a fit subject for poetry,
Rising quiet like her wordless love,
Biting sudden as her wild passions ,
Leaving me dry, in flood and famine.

 # 9

I seek in vain that one food to fill,
Parched body’s ruthless hungers,
Rootless mind’s endless curiosity,
Soul’s craving to flee them both.

# 10

June is one true grey month,
Heat still around, but not so,
Chill in the air, but not yet,
Like hot and cold of her love.

# 11

Play your role well, more to come,
Masks to wear, masks to rip off,
Drama is ever beyond audience,
Where script alters as characters do.

# 12

Love begins like a refreshing drizzle,
Growing steady into a downpour,
Lightning happens, thunder follows,
Monsoon ends, groundwater dries.

 # 13

We once completed each other’s sentences,
One message following next like numbers,
Each wanting in itself but together a tale,
Now scatter like vowels, whole but hungry.

# 14

It is a night of calm after days of storm,
Rituals poised between sleep and wake,
Feeding on diet without sugar and salt,
It is orderly, and boring, like a neat home.

# 15

My wife picks her vegetables as fine art,
They have to shine, look fresh, have life,
Provide strength; also break to her touch,
Her art failed in me, but I get boiled too.

# 16

‘Close the door, the bird has flown’
They said across chill of late winter,
‘Open the door, her nest is still here’
My heart said in waft of early spring.

# 17

Pipers have come, so have my guests,
Sandal in air, joyful designs on earth,
Garland in grasp, flowers in mane,
Groom of trance, ready in my dreams.

# 18

Her drooping arm on his stooping shoulder,
Skin creased in smile to his wrinkled wink,
Her toothless grin still raced his frail heart,
His wavering steps extending her life span.

# 19

It was blind love on the passion road,
Finding each in mirror of other’s eye,
One had to steer, other read the map,
Look just behind, see also far ahead.

# 20

My lines speak to hearts of some,
Reminds others their duty to doze,
I know not if she reads to sleep,
I write and sing to audience of one.

# 21

Romance often is like holding hands,
To cross the slithering traffic snakes,
While it seems togetherness for life,
It seeks just to break eternal tedium.

# 22

I look for poems as a fisherman does,
Sitting long day still for just a ripple,
Some bite and flee, as I jolt awake,
Losing that in lake, and that in dream.

# 23

I remember those days we were at play,
Words moved like shuttle, landing soft,
Those forward thrusts and retreats quick,
To place the cheer in each other’s court.

# 24

May pillows offer you comfort of lies,
Blankets the warmth of cover ups,
May mattress hold up your pretences,
Quilts cushion your dreams of deceit.

# 25

Minds join not just when bodies do,
Words being better glue than sweat,
Knit it close to lace a fabric of love,
Or weave tight to crush and crumple.

# 26

If only cold silence could kill our love,
Passions would dry in heat of words,
If only past were a matter of memory,
We could each envision our vignettes.

# 27

She was dressed in black, like clouds,
Had that sunny cheer of high noon,
Praise the Lord of Square and Circle,
Who is also the Great God of Curves.

# 28

My deepening loneliness hears its echo,
Alone into hollow of darkening blue,
In such vast spread of night’s blanket,
Which two stars ever touch each other?

# 29

I have heard about words that burn,
But silence is fire, singes more,
One word heals when another hurts,
Why does silence stoke fires deep?

# 30

My Taj is ready beside a river of tears,
Your charm sealed in poem of stone,
Generations will glimpse your awe,
So why don’t you die and grant it life?

# 31

I hear restless buzz of endless traffic,
Moving sleepily along the lazy lines,
When do they come, where do they go,
Time they arrive is their time to leave.

# 32

Poets are born perverts, dying as one,
Saw moon first as fruit beyond reach, 
Then as lover tugging at ocean’s heart,
Read in its wax to wane, his own tale.

# 33

Night darkens with her deep desires,
Restless passions of waxing moon,
Rivers of sweat mix in a humid hunt,
As lust prowls and growls for its prey.

# 34

Were his ten SMS better than none?
Buzzed like flies, swot by silence,
But those drops seeped like love,
Lingered on, like drowse after wake.

# 35

Poetic justice atleast for poets,
His passion killed by silence,
His truth raped by denial,
His songs avenged by slogans.

# 36

Doors that close can open still,
Or what are those springs for?
Those you lock too can unbolt,
Or why key on chain of heart?

# 37

Only broken reed can make music,
Visions past daily write a poem,
Splitting the steps must to dance,
What brings pain also brings songs.

# 38

Life being a road is one tall tale,
You cannot go same route twice,
Nor retrace steps if you are lost,
It is simply one lane trek to grave.

# 39

Dark cloudy night when secrets tumble,
Heart thunders at seam and lips unlock,
Skeletons that rattled, now out to dance,
Kicking up ashes in air, as past crackles.

# 40

If only love did break like a mirror,
Shards sharp and too small to glue,
But it fades like silver from edges,
Reveals the past, conceals the next.

# 41

The ones you love to laugh with,
Are not the ones you cry to,
First reminds too much of salt,
And next too much of sugar.

# 42

‘You need to see her afresh’
I get new glasses, fresh vision,
She is still as ugly, as adamant,
And me, equally as helpless.

# 43

I now wait patiently for my lines,
As I did for rustle of her tread,
Both had this trait in common,
To entice and evade in same blink.

# 44

Poetry is for those seated back,
Gazing worlds through words,
Hands on steering, legs on pedal,
I see just the bum of car ahead.

# 45

Each verse of mine is a knock,
As I wait and wilt at your door,
If I do dream, shake me awake,
To bliss of your eyes upon mine.

 # 46

The slots on my calendar are full,
Hours to dates, months to years,
Ready for times that may not come,
Hesitant for the day that would.

# 47

While you slice the daily onions,
Or design those birthday cards,
When you drill dry earth deeper,
It is such times that love strikes.

# 48

And they lived happily ever after,
He is his kitchen, she in her room,
Different cables, distinct channels,
Wordless peace at the dinner table.

# 49

The sky and earth have at last met,
Long in sight, just beyond grasp,
In wet days of their torrid festivals,
The smog of silence is still upon us.

# 50

River of Quatrains will flow on forever,
Being mortal, cupped my small hands,
Drank to my thirst but stream goes on,
Hunger will return and so will my verse.

 (Series of SMS Poems.  Commencement 11th June 2012, Conclusion 30th July 2012)


Saturday, July 21, 2012

Morning Clouds


You know those daily crests in awakening,
Reaching across both shores of our drowse,
What clues hair to grey bids eyes to open,
Yes, names and forms still in a single daub,
Duties and passions, indistinct notes to ear,
You pull the mattresses again to your face,
Painting another dark coat to fading night.

It has ever been seasons of mist and cloud,
Saw myself as you do, through dewy glass,
Taught myself life on edge, like rain clouds,
Felt my map groping across dim territory,
Learning that more unknowns lurk in light,
Alas, day will return soon like a jilted lover,
Back to codified moves of Black and White.

(2012)

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Memories


Bathroom is our museum for musings,
What is learnt here is hardly forgotten,
Our durable lessons on Toilet Training,
First sharp session with a safety razor,
Place to rewrite our own daily history,
Or whitewash; tuning to color of times,
Meditative space before the peak hour,
Where artefacts of the mind and body,
Recalls the heritage tour from I to We,
Across tiled lies above cementing truth.

Warm water splashing, I take a glance,
Day’s stubble reversing my times past,
Cutting clean, don't seem like memoirs,
But return daily like chased senile men,
Those that ran behind on days at beach,
Making tattoo of my name on her arm,
When I asked to be a mole on her face.
She left, when her tattoo perhaps faded,
While mole on my face lives on, steady,
Unblinking, even as silver of mirror pale.

(2012)

Friday, July 06, 2012

The Blessing


I bless her now as her back turns away,
On another weary trip to find her man,
Dreamy of one who is collage of many,
Of thirteenth zodiac, born and unseen,
But husbands come all made and ready,
Melting, stamping, drawing and curing,
Too tedious an affair with hours in heat,
You could tend to him instead as plant,
See him strike roots deep, shoots high, 
Wait through cycles of seasons to fruit,
Till your teeth brittles even to flesh - 
And finally retreat to cool of his shade.
Having done grandma rituals on trees,
Her feet go far slower, gaze more acute.

(2012)