IF I COULD

if i could.

rip up shadows
of poles and plains
to turn them into trees
chisel every leaf
and bare veins bleeding into the rain

if i could
crease out a lake
drown the ripples
and watch a monologue
between the moon and a paper boat

but all I can afford
is to watch
the silent games
an empty room and the shadows play

but if i could
just mute the rain
and watch the land shiver
in their silent intimacy

TANDAV

sand melted by her voltage
now swaying over nascent glass.
Unseeing eyes of embers.
Bare sinew sculpting the air.
spine a serpentine arc.
Blackhole sucked rainbow.
Ripped torniquet
Salt licking her wounds.
Abrasioned waves.
swirls churning the ocean.
Oblivious to gaze of heavens
Summoned by her cosmic séance
The maniac had begun to dance…..

HOMELESS

I am tired.

I have walked.
Through the immobile rocks,
As the foam dies trying to paint them white…

And now,
I have come home.
To the abandoned sea cove.

I need to lie face down.
Foetal.
Knees tucked inside.
Draped in my wet wings.

And shiver.

For Tomorrow,
I have to wake up
And smile drowsily,
As the morning paints my iris.
And slowly watch the coffee
in the other mug get cold


Tell the gale
To turn it down a notch.
I need to listen
To the white noise,
And make it into a song.
And Turn off the stars.
I need to sleep tonight.

UNTITLED

I just got a new home.
Under construction it was.
And always will be.

A home with two rooms.
With corners I don’t know how many.
With painted walls.
One olive green and other blue.
And crimson brick in places.

The roof is leaky too..
And has a big damp patch
That is turning yellow.

I took an old wardrobe
Filled it,
With clothes that didn’t stop smelling new.
Poetry that always had to rhyme.
And photos where my eyes never smiled..

It took it to my doorstep.
Where it will never hurt my toe.


Finally some clutter is gone..
Some isn’t.
Some never will.

But finally I can see the skyline…
And the sparrow couple feeding their kid.

So now I can put up those turquoise curtains…
And that frame of the Nevada sky.


Lying down on my bare floor.
As the fan creaks above…
Whistling to myself…
Doing nothing,
But smelling those new shades of bamboo,
that are Filtering the sun into tiny rivulets
on to my bowl of crystals…
Listen to the pigeon cooing at my window..
Lazily serenaded by the slow trickle of coffee.

And oh,
My faithful plants need water.
But tomorrow.

I will just sleep tonight.
It’s kind of tiring you see..
Moving in.

Moving on.

A NATION'S OBITUARY

Ma...I want to live.
Sorry. Can’t allow it.

Ma...but why?

I promised the sperm giver the 'real deal'

Ma...but I dream of infinities.

Dream of damnation. will ease the transition.

Ma...god says I’m beautiful.

Liar...said the same about me.

Ma...I want to learn the wisdom of the universe.

Wretch! Don’t you know we are retarded?

Ma...I will take care of you..

But how? You are so ugly who is going to buy you?

Ma...I am growing.

Yeah. Leeching on me bloody parasite.

Ma...I am safe here.

Those lurking jackals will tear you apart.

Ma...but I’m strong.

Only testosterone can erect strength.

Ma...I will bring you happiness.

What will I do till the time your flesh is ready?

Ma...Give me a chance.

Sorry. Tampons are expensive.

Ma...

selfish vermin don’t you want me to be respected?

They will love me....

till fresh meat comes by.

Ma...I love you.

I almost wish I had HIV.

Ma...I know you will love me tomorrow.

Moron...what tomorrow?

UNTITLED

In the Groaning underbelly of steel maidens..

Hanging amongst grimy collar.

Her Nomadic thoughts camp.

To the night.

Virginity lostto the husband she met hours ago.

When he made love to one and a half kilos of gold.

She will now go hometo feed his gastric rage

constipated by desi rum.
his jaundiced eyes.

Tired of staring at bosoms dancing in the throes of jasmine.

tired of drooling.

At someone’s mother.someone’s sister

and then she will feed his four month old son

he will stare at naked meat.

then he will slap her

.God crowned by scriptures.

by his divine birthright.

The necrophilewill rape her.

Again and again.

Contaminate her and call her whore.

And then she will stuff her fist into her mouth.

And sleep in her blood.

and nine months later die in labor.

another one in billion primate.

he and his brother.
by-products of cannibalism.

wife beaters…

eve teasers..

chillum smokers.

two other nameless faceless bastards.

just two more squirming maggots.

in Mumbai's perennial gutter.

PURE

Can you see it in my eyes?
As I am clutching your throat?
I am a sadist tonight.
I am a necrophile.
That vile flesh of yours.
Is a blasphemy to life.

Kiss me.
With that putrid breath.
Let me bite off your tongue.
Thus, let me emasculate you.

Strip in front of me.
Show me your wares.
Like the street hooker that you are.
Are you scared of sodomy?
Don’t be.
You are far too vile.

I want you to feel.
What she felt.
When you raped her innocence.
Touched her bare body.
Frolicked with her hair,
As you extinguished her will-o-wisp eyes.
And staked her out for hyenas.

Laughed when she was tore,
Tendon by tendon.
Stripped to bone,
By the swarm of locusts.
Your lust left unsatisfied.
Your hands were left smoldered.
By what she held inside.

I was born that day.
A bastard baptized by hatred.
Sired by sins.
despicable and damned.
A deliberate pauper.
To never let you petrify me.
In the name of goodness.
In the name of love.

Now we stand.
Face to mask.
A mask I wear to deal with scum.
A mask that if I rip off,
Lucifer will not exist.

You feel pain you say?
I slapped you again.
Because you dare name pain.
Pain is pure.
Pain is divine.
Pain is mine.

And now this pain.
Becomes the frothy hunger in my eyes.
That will see as you hang.
As you are sheared by the five elements.
As your warm toes.
Entice lupine drools.

I will plunge you in an abyss.
And pull you back,
At the brink of asphyxiation.
I will watch.
As death takes a swig of you.And spits you back.
I will watch.In my maniacal glory
As death ejaculates you
and my hatred orgasms.

ROAD RAGE

A ride…
On this Nevada night….
Get off this goddamned road.
For I am riding tonight.
My forked tongue licks the wind...
I slither on her fondling her tresses…
She's Arousing herself...
Running her fingers...
Up my freshly inked back.

Kohl up my eyes with singed tar.
Inch by inch…
With a blunt rusty knife...
Meticulously....
So not delicately,
Drain my elixir and fill her up tonight...
My skin is shed…
My muddy fingers…
Explore her muslin…
Taking off her knots…
One by one…
I make her mine…
Crawl your way up…
Slowly.
One agonizing shear at a time…
Crawl inside me night princess,
Let me get you high tonight.

THE WHATEVER SONG

It’s painful.
To stand on your toes.
But then, if you don’t,
the wind wont call upon your bare ankles.

You may fall off the cliff,
If your famished fingers,
Quench a zephyr’s thirst too long.
But when your sweatshirt rides along your skin.
You can show your midriff off.

You can arch and bend,
Like poetry.
cross your legs,
And get drunk.
On the crescent moon.

And when your scars suture,
mindlessness of hope onto your bare skin….
you shear through the pregnant fog.
Chase your oh so sweet hangover…
Hold her tight in your arms..
Both lie panting…gasping..
On the bed of hay…

And laugh.