Adrift

The waters rose 

Churned and broke

Swelling and receding

Foaming the raft

The cold waves have no effect on him

He has been adrift for days

His fellow sings a morbid song

He joins in, and laughs at the sea

With the sky seeming to dip into the horizon

Miles and miles all around

They have nerves of steel

With half eaten fish, and half thirsty

They sleep with their chest to the rising moon

At this, most would have died of panic

Not these

They rule in the storms

They rule on the unforgiving seas

Many years have they spent

In lashing, overboard, and on windless eerie silence

But always have reached port, to dance drunk, in glee

They are rough faced

Bearded, ugly, burly

Yet they are full of respect

They may have punished, tormented, half dead so many times

Yet these sailors will always want

To die at sea

Drifting into a red sunset

Like a viking on his last journey

Wedlock and Wisdom

Sit with me while I write this song
Hold me not, touch not, speak not
Let me be, but be here, yet be not
Deflect the air, yet make no prints
Like staring into the eyes of a spectacled cobra
Focus, yet move not
Mend your ways, breathe silently
Don’t cough, sneeze, smirk, speak, talk
Sit by me like a wife should
Breathing, pretty, obedient, pleasing
Listen, hear, follow, bend to my wishes
When you chose wedlock
You chose so with glee
So now don’t bicker, and silent be
You chased this, you wanted this
This, and it is your identity
Do not disturb me, or disobey
I will just send you away
You are your own miscreant
And you are your own undoing
For wedlock rhymes with patriarchy
Want not if this then leave
And if leave you shall, educate the others
To be free, one has to be able
And strong, and steadfast and thirst for it
For there is no freedom here
There will never be

Avian

 
Whistle, Wallow
Shine bright
Test my might
Fight my fights
Yet always with the end in sight
In the morning light
In the darkest night
I shall not kneel
Cower
Or run from blight
I could bleed
I could breed
I could soar to great heights
For all that yet,
I shall only be human
And I shall seek
To be a bird
To spread my wings
Piercing the clouds
And look down upon all of earth
Midflight

Why Curate

A nip here, a tuck there

Such is how the poems are slaughtered

Tenses are fine

Spellings too

Conjunctions and line breaks have to

As the fingers sift through

And the words appear

On touch keyboards or physical ones

A rewrite is the worst

A poet must do

It is the equivalent of infanticide

For each poem is a child

And poets are never on display

A poem need not comply

For a poet's mind does never do

If you set out to write 

Let it be a barrage

Of the mind, the soul, the heart too

But if you should plan for one such

You are only an engineer

Poet not.

Food and words, don't end hunger

 Some mornings are bright
Only a chore too that bites a tad
She lay awoke
Mulling at her gnawing mind
The crimpled wedding saree from 5 year fore
And her bangles now broken into shards
She smiled at her bruised wrist
Tattooed in bruises of strong arms
A night off the inhibitions, she thought
In the arms of her old lover
Now the pillows like her forehead
And not her conscience
Are tainted in maroon, smudged
She sat to the edge of the bed
Smirked at her disposition
What all could she be called today
A wayward, stray, lustful, but a woman
Under psychotropics and flowing beer
She need not
Nor will she be bothered
Words and food don’t
Feed her hunger
Like her random visitor.

Midway

At half past 41

There is but a odd sigh

Where one shall seek to question

What all has gone by

Such not is for me alas

For none of it has been in haste

To command such regret

For I have nothing to lament

Or whinge and hurl black words at

 

At half past the darkest of night

The soul seems to seek peace

Or so I would imagine

It is but boredom and apathy

Where I and Humanity have failed

Each other, mostly I; its lack of hate

I live with stark truths

Avoiding its dark touch

 

At half past hate

I awoke in care

Your compassion and love, nope

Mine for mine

As only me would reason and judge

Can and should

Voices such as you

Are inverted rare

At half past love

That I lie awake

As a teen, the young boy that I was

I slid past the sad and grey

And saw the facades we portray

Love and care, until you toe a line

Should you flinch, broken from bonds,

It isn’t honest,

It’s all charade

Another New year approaches

Here we are

Learning to cope

Learning to Communicate 

Against ears that see no lips

Putting a name to a face

Like an it support technician

A large lot of us

Afraid, overwhelmed, unable to handle tech

Yelling at keyboards, and flickering screens

We have learnt to say 'pardon me' , in nicer tones

A touch further genuinely

Hoping to grasp what others say

For the first time we have become better listeners

A few of us have learnt to sing

A few of us have learnt to dance

So of us have learnt to hog

Some of us have learnt to accept family

The criminals are out there

Having fun out doors

While the caring ones are staying home

A chunk of the caregivers have died

While a chunk of them are exhausted yet caring

Some of us have become monsters

Spreading death, maiming others

While a few have stolen daily wages of poor

The essential workers have died of hunger

The politicians are rejoicing, rolling in money

No one has cared for people then

No one is bothered even now

The black plague killed many a 100 years ago

They became better humans

But as with humans

We have become bitter again

Humanity learning the new norm

Is a faux pas

Humanity cannot ever learn

Is a fixed constant.

The song of my country

Imprisoned
Let go
exhumed
let go
exposed
let go
common folks
imprisoned

 

Forever at odds, life is 

worse yet , a soul nipped in the bud

will it ever know happiness, peace, trust, love

what therefore is a life as such.

All life is a opportunity

to smile, to run wild and free

away from torment and pain, to express and rejoice 

A birthright so vehemently taken away

Why does it have to be so, over and over

How many shall be prey to such viciousness

Let us all rekindle humanity, that is all humans have

Save and protect , the ones that cannot do so themselves

for children are the future of mankind.

Invocations -3 third 5

What is greatness to me?
I am but a mere mortal
seek enlightenment
For you O paramatma
are beyond comprehension
the Muktanam Parama Gatih
unbirdled, unlimited
the Unchanging the Avyayah
Guide me , holding my hand
Tempering my resolve
Awaken my consciousness
The one in everyone O' Purushah
You have been the witness
since the creation of all
O' Sakshi enrich me with knowledge
Infuse me with knowing you

Invocations -2 Second 5

Famished, the mind has been
Forgetting the Boota Bhrit
My mind hungers
Nourish it with the essence
for the Bhava that you are
Guide me to you,
from the dark of Ignorance
You are the soul of everything
The Bhootatma and the Bhootabhavna
The life and nourishment itself
Wayward, lonely, lost
I have forever wanted solace
You are purest Essence O' Pootatma
Help me find the way to you.

Invocations - 1 - First 5

Little as I am, as insignificant, I may be
I should rest easy
knowing there is a part of you as me , or even you itself
for you are the Vishwam, all the eye can see
all the sounds, touch, feel
the very essence of knowing, all the surrounds
all that is around me and in between
You are the very thing that fills what the void is
as Vishnu, you are all that is
Without anything to offer of my own
I offer what ever you have offered me
As the Vashtakara, accept my humbleness
Even that is made by you
As I pray for the future and present
As the past has held me and made me
O' Bhootabhavya Bhavyaat Prabhu
Guide me on, as I live knowing you
As you the Bhootakrit has created me

C'est La Vie

She walks on water,  splashes the silt
Jumping in puddles, reddening the sands
I run behind, warning just so
Holding her sandals
As she stands her ground, teary eyed yet silent
Making faces, to conceal her pain
Of someone's drunken fun late last night
Broken bottles, shards of glass
As always, it is someone else paying
The morning is beautiful
The salty water, rushes in
Washing her bloody feet, making her quiver
The legendary salt on wounds, in the flesh, in person, literally
Classic nature, sans Lady Luck
Mine seems to have had a tiff with hers
A Sunday morning spent
Seaside suture, and in the aroma of disinfectants
C'est La Vie

Arna , the soul time forgot to kill.

In a faraway land, was a warrior

Stronger than a mountain

Mightier than Vesuvius

And kings and kinsmen awed at him

He had lived a for millennias 

And seen the earth change

He was there when the floor was lava

And was , when it was ice

When it was mud, he became the ox alike

When the drought came

He became the river bringer

Such was his might

Such was his legend

He would rush in, to the aid 

Of other mere mortals 

That seeked so.

He had stopped floods, 

extinguished volcanoes, averted famine

Yet his heart was empty, devoid of feelings

He sat staring skyward one night

Wanting to fade, calling the universe

He reached his hand, the sky wisped to one

As it touched his face, it sang his song

"Arna the mighty

Arna the great

Arna the pious

Arna the strong

Arna the quick

Arna the gentle

Arna the undying man

Arna denies the universe of afterlife"

He smiled, as he stretched his feet

Watching the star falling toward him

He knew, it was his time

He knew it was his wish

And he finally mixed his heart into the hearth of the earth

To be in every inch of life anew

This time to be the volcanoes

To be the rivers

This time to be life itself.

Vox

Let me just wander

Not step on a land mine

Nor munch on fruits

That explode and take away my tongue

Let me not have blood splattered

Mine or my food's

In places I hold sacred

Let me sit and mind myself

And not be bitched about to

On why your god has a bigger penis

On why you believe in a brand of peace

Let me worship what I wish

Let me have what I have had

Maybe shut off shit that hits my ears loud

From roof tops calling out to your lords

That being applicable to all my countrymen

Let me not have a tricolour wrapped corpse

Being mocked by porn watching rapists 

So called representatives of the people

'Vox populi', not when it is full of assholes

For 'Vox Dei' is from an unbiased heart.

Total colour blindness

My apples are grey

The poster child of dull

The grapes a shade lighter, so are the pears

Such is what I have tuned my eyes to

For the world has too much red 

Awash

Clear visioned

My eyes, only to hurt 

Each day now spent, hoping to end

Either me , or if wither the world

But neither does

And I am tugged

Only to be dragged on endlessly

Over and again

To see humans

Feel at home with hate.

there may be no life in words
but in voices that speak of those
yet there may be no meaning
if the heart never knew love
what if we were lied to
and of such things as precious as care, touch and love itself
that would just be human
or what we call so
but then again
should we look beyond
deeper into the skies
we would fall into the abyss
of coldness and dark
that spins stars , colourful galaxies
yet is devoid of such fake
such pretense makes us human

The book rested on printed hypnotic circles

Bookmarked by a dark blue starry weave

draped in a grey polka dotted satin

It woke to a morning reading

I lifted the open book

Tracing the fine prints

I moved the bookmark away

Dived deep, tasting the gentle words

The book spoke in gentle breaths

Of calm and roars

Like a seashore, awash, lashed

To be drenched and splashed again

Often and again the book would encase me

Surround me by its wide-open pages

And hold me draw me deeper

And drown me in its mystic wonders

 

 

random

I love these early morning treks

Amongst the mountains part and open into valleys

Making me want to wade through them, over and again

Be surrounded and gripped, amongst the gentle fresh forest

The valley has a taste of amazement

A hint of mist and madness

As I wade through, I draw circles

Amongs the banks of the river shallows

As I dive into the river

The mountains tower above

They cast their gentle net of lacey satin clouds

Hiding me amongs them

I could dip and submerge over and over

in the hot spring

Fall asleep and be covered

as the sun and the moon chase each other

shades

Vines cast shadows

Inviting me to swing

Tug at my pretense of calm

And expose the wilds within

The wines , amongst shafts of light

Wrap around me

Holding me to the wilderness

Command me to blend in

As I enter deep into the wild

I kiss the gentle bright reds above

The colours swirl, paint my lips

And fade into dark, as I close my eyes

I can hear the gentle heave ,rustle of the green sheets

Of legs that trace the forest floor

Winding through , tying me close

Melting me deep, madness galore

she speaks like a good book would

She sits before me

Cross legged

A book, many volumes, in one

It is not an easy one either

So I reach out

I free her from the cotton and linen

And feel her embossed curves and edges

They are gentle and smooth

Warm and beautiful

I gently open the book half way through

Peeking in for a closer read

Her words taste like gentle hues

Of the setting sun and rising moons

The two halves of the book rustle

In moans and heavy breaths

I inch closer and closer

To feel the smell of the open book

And lose my mind, drenched in her words

As my tongue reads her inside out

work days of a quarantino

In sets of three

every picture, he has clicked

In different colours, togerher as a collage

Not serving to impress, influence, only postulate

If they didn't, he would himself scrap them

One in his hunger

Of knowledge and beyond

Questioning his own hunger for such

One of multidimensional thoughts

Or need thereof 

One of his need, wants, feelings of love

Rather its lacking, and if so whys'

One , where his tube searches for hers

Each

Distinct, yet a part apart a parting an apartheid 

Treated as such

Punished as such

Stilled

Unstilled, often in such wanton thoughts

Of macabre , of inconvenient, of unconcern

Only for it all to be nothing

To wake up in such thoughts

Randomly, to look at his watch

Its 11, work calls.

The lands of asunder

Follow me men

Follow me men

Follow me to the unexplored lands

Riddled with fire, ice , and lost hands

Where the only hope is exasperation

And love is but a fascination

Here we are the lesser men

Here we are the unapologetic 

Here we are the ones that cannot have the other

For our ego shall not be allowed to bend

Follow me men

Follow me men

To the lands that folklore teaches never to visit

Follow me men

Follow me men

To the darkest undertones of broken relationships

As we dip our feet in this Acheron 

Feel the wanton joys of winning

Let's forsake the golden coin

There is no boatman 

And there is no shore once you dip your feet in

There is only forward , onward to the cringe

For this is the paradise of rage.

recollections

I walked past the abandoned villa

At some point it glowed in the evenings

Through its windows

The walls now bear countless names

Of lovers who often meet there, in secret

Away from prying eyes

For the world hates lovers

As I walked past 

I heard a voice call out my name

Turning around , I saw the caller

A beautiful frail woman in her forties

Raju, is that you? She asked

It was I , as I replied

She rushed through the gate, on towards an embrace

And I stood there, confused

Did I know her? I thought embarrassed

Is this someone I forgot along

She whispered , asked me to walk into the villa

We sat there at its foot steps

The place was familiar, yet not her.

As we sat she sand an old song

Familiar, so I sang along

And as we sand, I recollected

I had written it, as a teen

As we laughed and sat at the steps

The sun was ready to fade and go

She said, let us scribble our names

And I wrote smilingly

Me and My forgotten song

At which I walked through the gate

Bid goodbye to the villa

I had found my old song

And my smile, and it was all worth this one trip.

Life is such

Trips and memories

Recalled, forgotten, over and again

To learn (I)

Part 1

Let me feel the longing for you

As a lover, let my insides churn

And you be the ever evading, denying, evil woman

For I want to feel what it is to have loved and lost

Will you in one manifestation be so

Is this woman's wish Hari

Let me feel the joy

Of seeing you , yet be away

Be tormented and cast aside

Ever and again

Let me fold into my own body

Weep countless nights

I would want to be born a man

A man in love, overcome by madness 

Failed in my logic, shunning my truth

Let me at such be subjected to your coldness

Yearn in wanting to hear you

At which you would blatantly deny my pleas

I would want to feel

All that has been felt

By every gender that you have made

Let me feel complete

Let me feel your Maya of creation

bush fires

Run steed

Like the wind

Let the fire burning your mane burn the souls

Of what we have done

How we have tortured and tormented the world

But your run at best is futile

The human race has gone vile

Wretched and twisted

Lost and distraught

Greed and malice

Jealousy and depravity have sprung forth

You shall just burn and die

Those who caused the fire won't care

Some like me will cry for a moment

And then return to our indifference

Run steed

Die, just die

Take all your brethren with you

fade away sun.

It is morning

Some may even say a time to be awake

For some it is , for some like me

It is a hindrance

I long for the moonlit nights

For the moon has my unfaltering attention

And should it not?

The moon has lead many to lunacy

In those gentle waves by the sea

The sun may at best seem like a receding moron

Spreading light and casting shadows

Carving greys into the the black and white

It is not for me

Come forth night

I am at comfort

For the soul can be at home

In its element

Of dark allure

Alone but never lonely