Thursday, June 30, 2011

Of a Slow moving Moment-

Perhaps it shall be one such moment
of muted breezes scented with the lurking rain
like an old friend that urges me to write a poem.

And out of the island
of this weary solitude you shall awake.

As I shall unveil the forgotten you
through layers
sketching you in the canvass
of my poetry.

And within the chasm
of my slow thoughts
I shall hold you

Like I hold the slow tapping
of your little fingers on my palm
your tilted eye brows when you worry
even your muffled laughs

Like I hold within me the faith in words
the charm of a verse
And the profound sense of fulfillment
that poetry provides me.

And in the midst of my all too crowded thoughts
shall you be like a smudged body
melted into soul and brewed into page.

And if I then offer you a nest,
Shall you reside as the lost sleep of my eyes?

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Garden Inside

Let me sow you
in the garden of my heart
O love.

Let me water
my warmth over
and then softly
let me be a breeze
to caress you through.

For you are
much more than
just a mere thought
or even an alluring body
you are a blossoming life
that shall grow for eternity

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Not Today-

If those eyes could talk
they must talk of things
things words can never form
like watching the slow breeze
kiss the river bed on late twilights
or the splattering of rains
on a crawling highway washing it of all its sins

The slow accompanying noise
that the ceiling fan makes while I write
The small mole between your lips and nose
The voice reminiscent of sarangi

For some solitary moments
I realize that I am lying beside you
And I open my eyes to a misty island
where mangrove forests grow over to heavens
And I lose myself in the forests of Sunderbans.

And yet I know am not lost
Though someday I shall wither away through time
and my memories of you
shall just remain troglodyte waves in this large cosmos

And they shall tear away the forest which reminds me of you
But not today, today I have all of it intact in me
And while it stays
I shall write you through all the commas and the full stops
And let you seduce me through my words.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011


For metaphors
am a pebble

I stretch myself
through the river tides
in the Sunderbans
embracing the lands
claiming something
not lien but still
somehow mine.

On other days
am just a lone pebble
in the whole vastness of a river
am one in infinite
I move and bend in the curves
reflecting and refracting light
even in a drop I am
beholders delight

I survive both ways
and yet
I drown into me
until what remains
is just a remote lore
of myself.