1
IMAGINARY GAINS
The traps hidden in the candle flame
are the cages we make and unmake
to chart the future and yet fear
the emergency light at night
dream the concerns of slinky colleagues
and how to police their freedom
against owls, monkeys and bandicoots
that howl at each move to the lee
and yet pretend our poses intact
through several byways reach victory stand
breath by breath conspire against ourselves
only to hear the echoes that rise
or die down in silence the twangs
of memory reveal the pit
dug over the years or the earth
fermented with imaginary gains
2
I DON’T KNOW…
I don’t know how to negotiate the long steep trail
with hidden scorpions under loose rocks
at home with human muck in a valley existence
strolling upward through a thicket of TV images
politics of glory, garbage and god
the odd arts of money, hierarchy and control
nobody knows who unmakes whom
I don’t know how to follow the ridges
back to the trail and the dead river
but stand for a moment to rub the sand from my feet
before worrying about the lost vitality and fear
of the approaching night and rising smoke
dissolving in the sky or conspiring with elements
hardly in balance but contorting the psyche
I don’t know what is there for me to hope
when the rains rejuvenate and flood both
the repulsive stench and the loss of pathways
linger longer than the flavour of the first drops
under the tree the puddle feeds no sparrows
but algae that couldn’t dry now trap tiny souls
that fail to swell with heaven’s breath
3
TIME TO BREAK OFF
How long can I grow without roots
or make way for what is approaching
in digital noises I can’t be
inheritor of arrant cowards
smelling the arse on their fingers
nor can I be the priest checking
the burnt tongues to test criminals
stiff with cold I’m tired of animal
struggle for survival and last rites
in candle light digging cursed
treasure for night songs others croon
I can’t decipher names in smoke
nor forget the faces emerging
from the matrix of tremors
that are islands to shackle
feet in silence close the cycle
of waters that feed the sea
I feel lumps hinder and pain
now it’s time to break off and bury
the ash in the earth and plant afresh
foliage for rains or sun to nurse
a destiny I could take pride in
4
WE HARBOUR HISTORIES
The falsity of the sky is more real than the earth’s
lies can’t sustain hope of divinity
we have complicated with poesying
private hells to mitigate flow of time
that couldn’t carve heaven: we harbour histories
of broken promises and fallen gods
lament men and women buried in light
now soulless, bodiless, traceless we look
upward and whittle continents from clouds
hanging generations that may never be
5
EXPOSÉ
Created in self
listening to the book
evolving me
in degeneration
indistinct and delusive
memory bank
reigning my action
orgasmic illusion
I keep recycling
cocooned exposition
6
HOW SILLY
You’re my love tonight
you know me as you know
your body
will you bother to say hello tomorrow
if we meet in the street
alone like this?
just as I like your frisette
you like my male smell
you say. will you clutch
my hands like this tomorrow
if I meet and say I’m hungry?
how silly, darling, go & wash
your mouth smells pubic hair
7
LET’S MEET
Before the bananas ripe
let’s meet at least once
lest the fog dampen passion
let’s water our love
the sun is bright this morning
and night’s promising
let’s meet and unfreeze winter
of years, drink some wine
restore warmth of faith and hope
and heal the breaches
without black goggles for seeing
let’s meet at least once
8
DYING SUN
How does it matter
I remember or forget
the nights or lights
that stand still
in the dense fog
nothing visible
nor audible
the thundering planes
touch the ground:
it’s all game
of guess and vague
everyone
everything
even the tick
of the clock
this freezing hour
redolent of
crumbling echoes
I can’t divine vision
or loom up certainty
to mock follies
of dying sun
9
SHADOW
Last evening
I saw a flower bloom
today it’s faded
but my fear
lurking like a shadow
ever present
I can’t erase:
emptying the mind
easier said than done
10
POETIC DISTURBANCE
There’s more to view in a dew drop
than what lies in my backyard
–years of muck and mucking about-
burial too difficult
in sunlight images shine
like crystal ball reveal my mind
in poetic disturbance
leaking lust and blood on dried grass
11
IT DOESN’T RAIN
It’s lightning
every evening
in the sky
but it doesn’t rain
I keep postponing
my journey
whether the train is late
or I miss it
it doesn’t matter
I look below
the chasm is wide
like the lightning
but it doesn’t rain
12
ALLERGIES
The barber sees
a potential customer
in me but I pass
the tense faces
after the long walk sunshine
a fag in the car
short carnival:
neatly hide faded vests drying
in the balcony
helter skelter
afternoon windy rain
allergies again
13
WHO CARES?
Death hides in the body
but who sees? it’s obscure
living on the edge
seeking space into swamp
they all talk about the sun
swelling in the sky
and close eyes to the spider
spinning waves on the ceiling
all alone, but who cares?
suspicion and distance
like lovers they pretend
to leave, yet stay longer
dishing out luxuries
showing off generosity
on the heart’s fancy table
waiting to welcome the guest
14
MERKABA
They say my birth was a heavenly event:
here I am suffering third-rate villains
that erect walls to stop the chariots
from Merkaba: the angels fume but who cares
heaven is a mirage in human zoo
15
NEW YEAR
The dates on calendar question
all my undone acts
and memories that haunt or fade
in nightly nakedness
stumbling toward the next day’s sun
without celebration
at 63 January jeers
my degenerating sex
a still itch: mantra and mirror
quiet god and drying petals
16
GLEAM OF LIGHT
Late August:
clouded midnight, sneezing
restless in bed
all negative vibes
well up the mind
jackals yell outside
I read Hsu Chicheng
for a gleam of light
17
AVALANCHE
Time’s wrinkling fingers
trivialize the sun and snow
in a crooked land
I see history crippled
with midnight dyspnoea
the green umbrella
hosts disaster:
the avalanche waits on its shoulder
the wound opens
18
I CAN LIVE
I’ve outlived
the winter’s allergies
and depressing rains
in a human zoo
I can live
my retirement too
without pension and medicare:
the wheelchair doesn’t frighten
I can live
uncared and unknown
survive broken home
the numbness of the arms
the pain in the neck
and inflation too
19
HERESY
My shrinking body
even if I donate
what’s there for research:
devil in the spine
abusing tongue in sleep
or bleeding anus
defy all prayers
on bed or in temple-
the same heresy
oozing and stinking
onanist excursion
dead or alive
20
CLAY DREAMS
They make my face
ugly in my own sight
what shall I see in the mirror?
there is no beauty
or holiness left
in the naked nation:
the streams flow dark
and the hinges of doors moan
politics of corruption
I weep for its names
and the faces they deface
with clay dreams
21
SANGAM
The crack in the sky
is not the rosy cleavage
to rape the body
nor is the beast any free
to escape the bloody river
that reflects stony wrath
in doggy position
they all expect their reward
for burying the noise
of sunny free wheeling
in frozen passion
turn beggars they all
search warmth with ash-smeared sadhus
at road side tea stall
whistle and wash off sins
in sangam muddled
with privileged few soar high
but I’m glad I crawl on earth
my roots don’t wave in the air
22
QUAIL DREAMS
I’ve lived 23,000 days
awaiting a day that could become
god’s day in eden earth or within
or even my grandson’s smile
on his first day in mother’s arms
now I sit an empty boat
on a still river
and shake with quail dreams
23
RETURN TO WHOLENESS
The body is precious
a vehicle for awakening
treat it with care, said Buddha
I love its stillness
beauty and sanctity
here and now
sink into its calm
to hear the whispers in all
its ebbs and flows
erect, penetrate
the edge of life and loss
return to wholeness
24
NONE TALK
Flowers don’t bloom
in tribute to
builders’ apathy
the trees are dying:
they too know they’ll be felled
or the heat will kill
the concrete rises
calamity too will rise
none talk the ruins they bring
25
STRANGER
I don’t know where I lived
in my former existence
but the hell I’ve breathed
for three decades here
couldn’t adapt my soul:
I remain a stranger
to them and to the cold walls
that put out the candle lights
in my roofless house
26
INDIFFERENCE?
Being good
couldn’t make me know
any better
I was harmless
they sold my name
and became
what I couldn’t
in the middle of day light
I vanished like faces
from voters’ list
with no difference
to who wins
or who loses
27
I TOO DESCEND
Some fresh bones, and designer dress
distorted hopes, cataract vision
hardly any better the face of the body
and if there is a soul, the soul hears
the map guides the mind’s midnight
but the destination is different
deception is courage
they know the end of journey
and get down when the train stops
I too descend
28
DRIED VISION
Teary eyes
with sparks and lightning
dried vision
caged existence
seek deliverance
muttering old prayers
29
SEASON’S PRICK
Unpruned roses
and unknown grasses
make me aware
of the emptiness
the dusk in her room sounds
she searches out
her shadow in
the rising moon
I feel the season’s prick
30
DEGENERATION
When gods are out to teach me a lesson
where to go to pray or find relief?
my prophet friends predict each day good
and the future fulfilling, the palmists find
the sun, saturn, venus, and rahu hostile:
they seek money for rituals, stones or mantras
while God gives us the best in life gratis
I can’t change man or nature, nor the karmas
now or tomorrow they all delude
in the maze of expediency and curse
stars, fate, destiny, or life before and after
degenerating the mind, body, thought, and divine
31
CRACKS
The cracks on the parapet
have widened for the peepal
to stay green for once
rains too want us to drench
our heads and feel one
with cool wind
in a dark corner
shed fears and enjoy love
32
BUGGING
Each night a challenge:
suffocative restlessness
sleepless spirits’ noise
sexual starvation
anal menstruation
dingy subconscious
conspire behind closed eyes
absent healing and
wishful miracles
a clueless sun rises
bugging time and life
33
NEIGHBOUR
With scheming mind
and crafty heart
loud and rebellious
a professional loser
perfumes the room
with flattering lips
and strays a preacher
to revolution
34
VACATION
Because I had no STD code to dial Heaven
I walked into Hell measuring happiness
in buried lines on the palms and shrinking head:
I couldn’t know when love sieved and sank
like a ship on vacation
35
SECRET
When I asked
to open her secret
she showed me thumb
I thought
she would return
love for love
36
LEMONS IN COURTYARD
She props the stooping lemons
with stake but avoids
bending close to me:
I die to draw the blossom
in my twining arms
but she likes the other scent
37
TRANSITION
Coming out of the room
they smile to think they’re not
what they were before
nor would they ever be
the same again even if
they wanted to be
38
YOU CAN’T SCENT ME
In the poems I write
you can read my mind
even know when I’m blue
before the mirror
when I stand in the dark
you can’t scent me
nor will words comfort
in chilly December
when alone in candle light
empty coffee cups
deride the syllables
I spin to make haiku
my hairs in air
reveal the baldness:
wank without wad
39
SECRET OF WAKING
Standing at the edge
I long to float with waves &
wave with instant wind
on the dream water’s breast
I read tomorrow’s wonder:
the secret of waking
40
I TALK TO MYSELF IN BED
After a day’s labor
they lie on a sand pile
in the basement of
a new shopping complex
rising slowly next door
like the waves at Nellore beach
that broke before wiping
my name on the sand
I take a snap at sunset:
they play with plastic bottles in water
or eat fried fish in the huts
I’m warned against placing it on Facebook
she hates my face
nor am I allowed to speak
to the drug addict picked up
from the door steps of
Varsha Apartments
his father questions
if there’s law in the country
only a street dog wags its tail
I wheeze and take a seroflo puff
and wonder if I should visit
NIMHANS and get checked
to manage my sleep
she questions why I think of Bangalore
for treatment of all my ailments
and takes me to Bannerghatta zoo
for animal viewing
41
JOURNEY
All around
snoring men and women
in an infected coach
allergies multiply
restive long hours
now too much
to bear the loneliness
of train journey
42
AFTER THE ACT
They practice death
in school and blame India:
terrorist politics
no wake-up call
be it Nawaz or Modi
power luxury
in angel costume
each invokes divine
condemnation
after the act
ritual truth burial
and peace politics
43
SHADE IN DREAM
I thought I would hold her
in my arms before falling
and kiss her on the table
or under the tree
but she never let me:
she reached up coolly
leaving me a shade in dream
44
EDICT
After the death of Jesus
I ceased to be a sinner:
God’s come closer with His love
My flame glows with passion
and dreams rise in new shapes
I love the spirit’s edict
45
JAGGED EDGES
Too stifling
inside the boat
outside
waves of hopelessness
in unending sea
noah’s ark is no home
nor an island
promise of eden
it’s only dead dreams
floating or flying
for a short break
I too would end
repeating the same myth
on whirling jagged edges
46
BODY: A BLISS
To see you naked
is to recall the Earth
says Garcia Lorca
it’s no sin to love
strip naked in bed, kitchen
or prayer room
the bodies don’t shine
all the time nor passion
wildly overflows
but when we have time
we must remember parts
arouse dead flesh
rub raw with desire
peeling wet layers through light
sound, senses and taste
play the seasons:
the thirst is ever new
and blissful too
to recreate
the body, a temple
and a prayer
47
RED LIGHT
Hurrying at red light
is no exception
be it traffic or sex
movement is the essence
and time matters
48
MISTY DARKNESS
sleepy roads
with or without light
tear the sky
I watch the murmur
in the misty darkness
Tao of midnight
49
ALOOF
Unlinked to the tree
he doesn’t know his family-
stands aloof, questions
ancestors don’t change
the mood of the weather:
the leaf needs his name
50
FRESHNESS
The withered leaves
blown in autumn
come again with the tired rains
the season confers
through the soft grey clouds
the growing freshness on naked trees
51
ROOF TOP
On the roof top
she waits for her man with
moon cake and lantern:
a flash of silver showers
on the mist-shrouded figure
52
FORTIS
So many patients
so many diseases
masked faced
in Fortis I inhale
microbes in AC lounge
53
PAIN
Tears dry up
leaving no marks where her pain
ends and mine begins
on the face make up damps
with aching sweat and cold sighs
54
LEECHES
At the end of the day
when I look back and see
my knowledge and insight
rusting with ageing colleagues
I pity my age and wish
to give up; I can’t change
the means and ends frustrate
the will to work any more
I want to rest now burying
ambience and achievements
that ache the soul and make
empty sounds in the hollow
of a hallowed pond long doomed
for marrying self-indulgent
elites and idiots
sucking generations
55
WITHOUT SLEEP
Anxieties don’t end
with age fire raging to quench
drugs hardly help reach
climax any more and
ecstasy a far cry
without sleep
through dried roses to nightmares
I smell hell all day
suffer shrinking passions
in the hollow of my mind
56
PROFESSOR
A professor
not worried so much-
shrinking genius
at his table views nudes
reviews failed erections
57
BEWARE
Professors beware
intellectual success
lies in inventing
lies to conceal common truths
and sound holier-than-thou
58
TEA BREAK
With mordant comments
he tries to geld a standpat
in a feminists’ meet
and turns a sook
at tea break
59
PIQUED
Going along Boring Canal
he is piqued to waste a sin
over smuggled evening
in the capital’s
canal culture
60
FILTH
The chains multiply
wrap life in the skin of water
crying quits to an acomous sky:
the mute soul suffers
the oozing filth
61
TATTOO
A serpent twists
it’s head to face a dragon
on her shoulder:
their tails on breast in water
swirl to cleanse my kiss on skin
62
SMILE
Her smile
with the whiff of sandal
makes love livelier:
I search Tao
in the wind’s flavour
63
NEST
Peeping through the fog
the sun feebly comforts
a sparrow’s nest
built under the window sill:
I hear a new-born crying
64
MY FACE
My face
locked in her hands
I can’t look-
love’s changing shapes
a bird in cage
65
CHERRY
A mist covers
the valley of her body
leaves memories
like the shiver of cherry
in dreamy January
66
BREATH
I love her undress
the light with eyes that spring
passion with kisses
she leaves her name again
for my breath to pass through
67
AT SEA
Awaiting the wave
that’ll wash away empty hours
and endless longing
in this dead silence at sea
I pull down chunks of sky
68
TEMPLE
Scratching his groin
a worshipper offers food:
the flattered deity
in flowery garbage, holy
water, incense, and sweat
69
COLOUR
In perfect accent
they discuss finance and
foam with colour
at the dining table
smell stale beer
70
LIPSTICK
A happier image
with salubrious top
turns rapturous
as she tamps her love
with watery lipstick
71
REALIZATION
Men or women
no living gods:
the soul has no sex
the form, the body
and the name unreal
the climax of eternity
denudes the mind
72
FRESH FUTURE
Where will we reach
sailing in a coffin
or dreaming to anchor
off the rainbow arch
the gold and purple ashes
won’t revive the phoenixes
lost in myths and stories:
we need to recoup
the elements’ balance
and create new suns
and moons that could light the cave
and begin a fresh future
73
LET MY COUNTRY NOT SINK
Where education leads to submissiveness, not self-respect
where knowledge and acceptance depends on certificates
where push-out is called drop-out
Where repression breeds fear, powerlessness, alienation and marginalization
where dependency, not self-sufficiency, perpetuates with helplessness
where discontentment is the way of life and dignity is decried
Where the system blames the victims to preserve status quo
and the stream of reason is lost in narrow divisions
Into that ever-widening hell of majority and minority
O my God,
let my country not sink in the new century
74
SEXLESS SOLITUDE
I don’t seek the stone bowl
Buddha used while here:
she dwells on moon beams
I see her smiling
with wind chiseled breast
in sexless solitude
her light is not priced
but gifted to enlighten
the silver-linings
75
LOVE: A TANKA SEQUENCE
His message to meet
at moonrise among flowers
sparkles a secret
on her smiling face passion
glows with charming fervor
she is no moon yet
she drifts like the moon, takes care
of him from the sky-
meets him for a short, waxing
leaves him for a long, waning
before going to bed
she looks too sad to have
any sweet dream:
the lonely lamp glints no love
and no star peeks through the curtains
yearning to meet him
she turns a silk-worm spinning
love-silk in cold night-
stands in a shade melting tears
like a candle, drop by drop
stains on dried dewy
tears on the eyelids tell of
the load on her mind:
clothed in spring the willow twigs
reveal the changed relation
locked in the shadows
of unrolled curtains her love
in the lone boudoir:
she plays tunes on the violin
flowers fade at the windows
she senses all things
changing as she passes through
the city again:
should I leave the old house or
lie in the grave before death
76
SPIRITUAL FLICKERS
Plodding away at
season’s conspiracies
life has proved untrue
with God an empty word
and prayers helpless cries
I wish I could live
nature’s rhythm free from
bondage of clock-time
rituals of work and sleep
expanding haiku present
on the prayer mat
the hands raised in vajrasan
couldn’t contact God-
the prayer was too long and
the winter night still longer
the mind creates
withdrawn to its own pleasures
a green thought
behind the banyan tree
behind the flickering lust
I can’t know her
from the body, skin or curve:
the perfume cheats
like the sacred hymns chanted
in hope, and there’s no answer
unknowable
the soul’s pursuit hidden
by its own works:
the spirit’s thirst, the strife
the restless silence, too much
unable to see
beyond the nose he says
he meditates
and sees visions of Buddha
weeping for us
the mirror swallowed
my footprints on the shore
I couldn’t blame the waves
the geese kept flying over head
the shadows kept moving afar
the lane to temple
through foul drain, dust, and mud:
black back of Saturn
in a locked enclosure
a harassed devotee
seeking shelter
under the golden wings
of Angel Michael
a prayer away now
whispers the moon in cloud
not much fun-
cold night, asthmatic cough
and lonely Christmas:
no quiet place within
no fresh start for the New Year
77
NO MOIST SECRETS
Layers of dust thicken
on the mirror water makes
the smuts prominent:
I wipe and wipe and yet
the stains stay like sin
when I have no home
I seek refuge in the cage
of your heart and close
my eyes to see with your nipples
the tree that cared to save from sun
in the forest of your hair
my finger searches
the little pearl of blood
that stirs the hidden waters
and contains my restlessness
crazy these people
don’t know how to go down
with the swirl and up
with the whirl but play
in the raging water
watching the waves
with him she makes an angle
in contemplation:
green weed and white foam break
on the beach with falling mood
they couldn’t hide the moon
in water or boat but now
fish moonlight from sky:
I watch their wisdom and smile
why I lent my rod and bait
the lips in her eyes
and long hours in the mouth–
no moist secrets
between us to reveal:
now our backs to each other
all her predictions
could come true had I paid her
the fees for writing
psychic reflections on dreams
I failed to realize in life
wrinkles on the skin
remind me of time’s passage
year by year travelled
long distances renewing
spirit and waving goodbye
feeling the difference
between a tin house and
a weather proof tent:
on the Yamuna’s bank
Kumbh deluge to wash sins
with black and white marks
and nest of ants on its skin
the tree grows taller
shining through the geometry
of sun, moon and halogen
my voice
brown like autumn
crushed in noises I can’t
understand days pass in colors
buried
a cloud-eagle
curves to the haze
in the west
skimming the sail
on soundless sea
heaven is
the frisson of union
with fishwife
behind the boulders
on sea beach
before the foamy
water could sting her vulva
a jellyfish passed
through the crotch making her shy —
the sea whispered a new song
78
PASSION
She gives him the push
when he says sex starving
is a greater sin
than fasting for his long life
or praying to the lingam
one more plateau
to negotiate between lapses in bed:
the moon shines bright and naked
I brave her cold lashes
after a tiff
lying under the same blanket
two of us stare
the peeping moon and turn
with glee to each other
shaped like a bird
a drop of water lands
on her breast:
my breath jumps to kiss it
before her pelvic flick
glowing with sweat
her muscles tighten up
and the toes curl
breathing gets heavier
trembling… twitching… ecstasy
weaving no web
a dark fishing spider
mates in the creek
and curls up hanging from the twat
in one-shot deal
79
POST-WAR: A Haiku Sequence
Night bombing
leaves the garden
white as death
vultures waiting
for the leftovers
of the sacrifice
whiteness of the moon
and rocks howl with the wind–
fear in the veins
in the ruins
searching her photo:
evening
in the diary
searching phone numbers of
friends now alive
standing behind
the window bars observes
darkness in shapes
watching
the darkness between the stars
enlightenment
awaits his son’s
phone call from the border:
dogs and cats wail
a dead voice
calling up at dawn:
drowsy eyes
alone
on her bed rings
the cell phone
going alone
an empty shadow
in the mall
crowded streets
moving among the years
wretched faces
shell-shocked or frozen
he stands in tears on hilltop
craving nirvana
unmoved by the wind
he sits on a rock wearing
peace of the lake
hearing heaviness
of her footsteps passing
the closed door
withdrawn within
sensing infinity
an island
searching peace
in the dark blankness
of mind’s silence
in silence
one with the divine will
growing within
80
LOVE-MAKING
Her sleeping desire
no dirty tantalizer:
we too together
bedside altar
smell of her hair:
dreams light up
her veil
hides the face
love too
lovemaking
he melts into her
time stands still
lovemaking
the sound of orgasm:
LaoTzu*
*A great sound is inaudible, and a great image is formless,” said Lao Tzu.
making love
she tastes the salt upon
his shoulder
candling in vein
leaves marks of teeth on her neck
utters holiness
making love
hands clasped and head hung
prayer in bed
unclothing
the white night:
lips meeting lips
writes with strands of
watery hair on her bare back
a love haiku
after the tumble
buried between the sheets
leftover passion
hidden between the sheets
my smothered sense-
salted honey
she departs
leaving behind her clothes
over mine
they come together
as themselves within themselves-
love’s silence
81
SNAKES
Sunny morning:
a snake slides through the fence
looking for a prey
full of silt
the Ganga overflows:
snakes under the waves
raises its hood
a cobra in water:
algae criss-cross
a quick brush
with snake in the fence:
plucking flowers
searching reason
in the labyrinthine pattern:
snakes in courtyard
avoids searching
mushroom in the crowded green –
snake on the fence
searches thorn apples
to propitiate lingam:
snake in sanctum
dreaming her nude
the serpent rises:
first orgasm
a snake’s tail
coils round a sweet
in the box
smells a snake
in the wet grass –
her smile
rises with tickles
between the thighs
the dream-serpent
a yellow snake
slithers on the grass –
dewy trail of love
climbing high through
rough pathway and stony cold
a green snake
a yellow snake
through the blooming balsams bed
a lone frog puffs up
a snake’s dead skin
near the fence:
she stands unmoving
82
HIBISCUS
Red oleander and
hibiscus calling morning
to Kali
the lone hibiscus
waits for the sun to bloom:
morning’s first offering
without washing hands
he touches the hibiscus for worship:
her frowning glance
love tickles
with erect pistil:
hibiscus
narrowly escape
the midair web of spider
perched on hibiscus
a tiny spider
on the hibiscus sucking
its golden hue
suspended
on the spider’s web —
a hibiscus
after little rain
lilies smile with hibiscus —
the sun in May
hibiscus
over the mossy roof
deeply rooted
oleander and
hibiscus blaze with passion —
making love in sun
83
ALONE
Waiting for the train
alone on the platform
swatting mosquitoes
after the party
empty chairs in the lawn —
new moon and I
all guests gone:
after the late party
night and I
nothing changes
the night’s ugliness
in the lone bed
alone
in a shrunken bed
aged love
in the well
studying her image
a woman
knitting silence
my wife on the bench
after lunch
virtual flirting
untamed straggly bushes-
dystopia
a moth
struggling for life
on wire
a lone sparrow
atop the naked branch
viewing sunset
between virgin curves
he deep-breathes evening mist
rests in the hollow
the lone mushroom —
a pregnant woman
stares out of the window
facing the sun
the lone flower
dying to bloom
a dead leaf hangs
by a spider’s thread
invisible in sun
under a tree
in meditation sunken
a lone stone
alone
on the National Highway
Hanuman.
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