A Japanese-doll went a-reading

A Japanese-doll went a-reading

and a flower followed her

She put the flower back on the bough

and made a bee the keeper.

A Japanese-doll went a-reading

but the books ran out to play

She set a mouse loose on them

and made them wail and pray.

A Japanese-doll went a-reading  

and the sun would block her way

She then called a gypsy cloud

and drenched the sun away.

But how long can it go as such?

How long can she fight?

All would she make her friends

She thought-

and turn their colours bright!

                                                                               2^nd April, 05.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

Rain

Lighted whips lashing the sky,

the stars shedding tears;

the pain pronounce a roaring cry

kids huddle with fear...

                                            18th, July 2001 

Face

Crinkles can speak a thousand words
of fleeting joys and lasting pain
in which the eyes, the lone mirror
show the rush of time.

No coy in bloom, no hard
a trap to fledgling men
her eyes paint an ocean floor
where waves surge sublime.

12th Oct. 2005

Leaf

                                        

A leaf

I once had plucked

and left forgotten

in a spree,

years later, a book fell open—

                      a faint, forgotten memory...


                                   
                                             7th, June 2001

              

Churning

Once my brother fell ill
two and half year old
ceased to toddle one evening;
They took him to a doctor
with a beautiful wife
a mermaid among men
for elves of the playground...

He wrote many cures
of them a bottle
stood out among
the rest—
a small pint of
sweet smelling emulsion
strong and chalky—
coated the tongue
and its colour
faint purple-pink
doused the eyes
and filled the hollows
and we would feel
like puking...

Been so many years now
well above two score and ten
a wet afternoon of purple-pink
and feeling nausea again...

An Artist in a Gallery

As if
I’ve not come to see the pictures,
it’s the pictures
looking at me—
stuck transfixed
in four cornered crypts
like famished eye-holes
crying hoarse to grab
a passing glimpse.

Sept’ 2006

Ageing

Moments are like leaves
they unfold and fade out
and one day the wind
gives them little wings
and they fly away
as yellow butterflies

What remains is the tree
and a thousand years of lassitude...

                                                                                               Jan, 2009

Introduction

Introduction

What would you like to know about me?

Should I say

I keep my eyes and windows open

Even on cold winter nights?

Because Nights intoxicate me like women

Holding a curved knife, which is

The Moon made of ice

Ready to melt into my glass

From which I drink

And forget

That I have been drinking thorns and stars alike

For ages...

Yet I never cried...

Nobody heard me, crying...

Yes ...these lonely nights have made me

Laugh in the day time, let me stand without support

And in return I have promised her my blood...