Rebirth of Venus

Venus, O goddess of beauty,
what great knowing lends
such intense gravity
to your sad tearless eyelids?
With intimidating finality,
they cautiously clothe,
those deep dark eyes.

I stare a little unsure
into your steady veiled eyes.
(a fathomless calm sea
where sailors drift eternally)
Eyes that steal my wistful gaze,
from your flowing gold tresses.


Some grave grave wisdom,
of...
what was,
what is,
what shall follow -
dims these sunstones
to honey hazel;
smooths like ironed silk
(or starched cotton?)
some pleats that once were
some crinkles at their corners.


Why do you not smile?
An unwelcome rebirth they say...
In deed -
who from the heavens would wish,
carrying tablets of once-lived fate,
to walk again...
this sorry sorry world.



Sep 30th, '08.

And still, I write...

I have heard them sing tonight
Lovers, in unison.
And we both know -
how true this is,
just as much as your love.
Yes, I keep inventing ruses to hurt myself.

I want to think of you.
Consciously,
yet again, I choose -
to wallow in misery,
the little solace it brings.
Forsaken lovers have weird ways of rejoicing.

I function so normally,
each morning,
they never happen to notice -
the emptiness I nurture,
the hollow left by you.
On long nights, I paint charcoal auroras.

Sigh, one more - eon long
I spend remembering you.

I am the great lover, no?
Aching in memory of you.
Altering not,
loving still,
hating not,
Wishing still.
.
.
.
Ah!
Great lovers are morbidly selfish.

For in wake of my musings,
my disgusting self-pity,
oftimes, my little brother peeps.

Begging warmth, night after night,
from my stone-cold being,
quietly, he once again sleeps.

And still, I write...

Sep 27th, '08.

Unrequited Love

[Easy, it is
(you don't believe me?)
- to Die,
to suffer no more,
to wash your hands.
(clean?)


To Live,
(die each day?)
share one dream,
keep a promise,
(Lovers do that?)
- too Hard.]

Tailing mirages
Parched, I fall...

I seek a love divine.


Sep 24th, '08.

Shall I?

Must I,
Rain,
Love again?

Fickle,
in'it?

Romeo's capricious,
over-done whims.

Can I,
Rain,
Suffer again?

Sep 24th, '08.


Observership in US...

The Stakes

Lift me, Life,
Set me free.

My spirit, a song -
mellow,
on wind's wet lips;
sonorous,
on dew's crystal skin.

Sing me, cuckoo,
On an apple tree.

I bit it not, luscious
(blood apple).
I am of, the bound
(angel's kin).

Ever, in heaven
- my reward -
I burn.

Sep 23rd, '08

One (al)

.

I am (I think) Happy today
Alone.
I was (I know) quiet yesterday
Alone.

Alone
Al-one.
Aloneness
Al-one-ness
Al-in-one-ness.

Godliness - no?

I am (I think) mistaken today
Alone.
I am (I know) Al-one each day
Alone.

Sep 19th, '08.

I received the interview call.

The Sunny Shadow

Dedicated to my lovely bhanja (sister's son).

In my little world,
Of big sad people,
A year back,
A giant tiptoed in.

A big happy giant,
With a whopping sunny shadow -
An omnipresent circle;
Him, centripetal.

Now, many seas across,
I oftimes repel
Big sad shadows
With sunbeams - gifted.

September 13th, '08.

Happy Birthday

With accustomed familiarity,
(A warm blade in melting butter)
It sauntered in,
The answer to a why:
This September, too kind, found I.
(After months, my muse was not shy)

Autumn breeze
O autumn breeze...
Pity me this september.
(Lo, she hides in that tree's hollow)
Drying trees
O drying trees...
Hearken, I tell your story.
(Sigh, they avert their teary eyes)

By the setting sun on yonder wall,
A lone bent shadow is cast.
My pores dont sweat, they bleed,
Hushed whispers of my smiling past.

Mid-September was important; is.
But where once we laughed; I strain to weep.
(Do you too - bleary-eyed - awake, lie?)
Long once, for 12 chimes, we waited; I long to wait.
(In deafening dark, pray whisper in my ear,
do u too count the ticks till late?)

In silence, solitude, desertion,
Cold fear of coming morrows
- do you too, heart-cleft, aching, hum:
'I stand alone among ten thousand sorrows.'

Train of "Thoughts"

The late Ramazan nights are warm still,
september sweaty.
A gibbous moon stares at my window-sill,
quarter-bald, fatty.

I sit lazily on the bare floor,
half cool.
My laptop rests on my crossed knees
all warm.

My fingers type slowly,
calling, recalling;
creating, recreating;
carving, moulding;
making abstractions -
palpable,
tangible.
I ponder hard and pause,
ben a note and plink;
click backspace and pause
type again and think.

I poke a thought with my finger,
turn it round and round,
between tommy and peter,
squash my plastishine mound.
I shape it into a caricature;
a burlesque, a miniature;
color it amethyst and midnight blue
camouflaging its real hue.
I roll it into a ping-pong ball,
play table-tennis in my mental hall.

I recline - sleepy, and fold a yawn,
talk softly with my clay pawn...
I revv up - excited, and flash a smile,
wink mischeviously at my mauve nile...
Enamoured, I charm them;
battered, I harm them;
they flourish, they suffer,
my fellows - my thoughts.

I love them, I hate them,
I often re-create them;
They tease me, appease me,
nervously, they seize me...
I shun them, I stun them;
oftimes abandon them;
They shoo me, they woo me,
they never misconstrue me...
My soul-mates - my thoughts!


Sep 11th, '08.

New Age Sun

In the gathering gloom
Darkness drips from our clouded sky
Grey drops turn to swirling mists
Engulfing.
Haunting ghosts garb me, dark grey.

Can you see your hands?
I cannot find my face
We are blinded.

An icy chill creeps up my legs
Frozen fingers find my heart
Wring it in their freezing grasp
Pulseless.
Blood clots in ropes in my veins.

Can you feel your heart?
I cannot hear mine beat.
We are frozen.

A darker shade of black
This moonless night must be,
We must wade this tar together
Stoically.
Pray, O new age sun, rise.


Sep 7th, '08.

On Joy

When next I write
They asked me to speak of happiness,
In the passion of my lines
To reverberate joy,
In the piercing intensity of my words
To echo ecstasy.

And as I smile
My muse sniggers,
"May I take a nap?".


August 31st, '08

Autumn Rain

Incipient trickle of memories,
Slow creepers, stranglers, mistletoe.

Tiny barbs, cold steel
Pin-pricks of Autumn rain
Strive to awaken in me
A young woman
A forgotten self
A memory.

She who dreamed
Of quiet peace
Cottage beside a lake
Tiny happy universe.

She, the dreamer
She, the naivette
She, the deceived.


From cargo jettisoned once,
All that the rain could salvage:

Incipient trickle of tears
Slow creepers, stranglers, mistletoe.


August 31st, '08.