Saturday, February 19, 2011


Tired of receiving such dull replies,
Why should I frame
My lines for her gaze
Which I know this page
Shall never inspect?

The swan doesn't care
What poets observe,
But floats and fades
In a music of its own
And leaves our hearts
In insatiate craze.

These be the lines,
O Heart, take heed:
Words must frame the beauty that leaves
To paint afresh the heart's torn sleeve.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Meatshop Lane

A sudden swish,
A writhing spurt,
And then  the wrenching of the wings.
(Could you change the channel now?)

I've stood with crumpled notes and seen
The daily act of muscles taut
That hack and pull and tear and crush
To suit the choices we dictate
And serve ourselves the dish we please.

No one minds the splattered stains
And rests in peace with newly bought
Powders that would rub them out.
(Could you switch the AC on?)

I am stunned by these images
That sting
And sharpen their fangs
To gobble my world
Which sinks it seems
In rivers of blood.

Weep my beloved and watch
The streets now swarm with daggers and guns
And rend our skies with unremitting flames.
(The pizza boy is here love!)

Friday, February 4, 2011

Magic-Bridge of Time

Return from where to where?
I've left my days of mirth and bliss
Of moonlit nights and choric walks
And find myself now hurtling down
Into the reams of 'pending' lists
Where the clock with gaping jaws
Crouches for one lethal leap.

Let this verse be then
My magic-bridge of time,
For there shall I move
In nowhere, nowhen
And straddle how I can
That which I must
And that which is lost.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Wrapped around in morning mists
Hazy seconds trickle down
As one by one the rays of light
Kiss those leaves and kneel on roofs
Yawning then with gentle ease
In that morning winter breeze.

Far from cluttering clangs of cars
Or from shrill-pitched rants of night
This, the fragile time of peace
When all the dozing limbs of mind
Round and round the light uncoil
And girdles fresh the dew-lipped mind
Before the unpurged day invades.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Unsung Plea

My swelling desires surge,
Though shapeless as a gust,
For a bower of their own
Where colours shall bloom
To adore and adorn
That essence of her being
Which the eyes never grasp
But flashes like a splash
In summer's cool streams
And breathes through my soul
The fragrance of flight
Of birds that weave
In twilighted sky
Rainbows on wings
That sparkle and melt.

My words are all I have
To plant these unsown dreams
Which once may bloom and sing
In tune my unsung plea
For her who wont hear
What I wouldn't dare.