Monday, May 31, 2010

I have got answers
for all of them
for those shadows and clouds
and for those nameless faceless waves
and the whole lot of ink stream
which flow towards this ocean in strange wild shades
I have got answers for all of them
written in scripts only heavens know
but for that, this ocean needs to flow
low from its depth of treasures
and it is difficult for pure soul forms
like ocean and earth
to flow down from heights supreme
and my answers
let me tie them in one flute
as a song for me to sing later.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Whenever they hear a roar in this ocean,
like waves they break all elements
to find a Solution, Emulsion -Blue
from their unsettled narrowness
on which they paint their eyes first
and look around for a face to paint
and from the hidden chambers
as a memoir of their limited wisdom...
splash; Solution.. Emulsion
there the ocean whispers
Forget….
And from the top hill of Govardan
a flagpost I see beyond bridges and rivers
in collective stillness in golden frames..
Silence
From wandering thoughts to one sea shore
I walked back to my primitive soul in pure form
like the dew drop on morning flowers
in poetic form
in one Flute….
Near Govardan...

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Yes, I can see from the wooden window
of my village home there a block
formed overnight
so close to the envious mountain
and I find a way towards sea shore
through the wild green forest
where I listen the song of a valley
in a breeze that carried
the silken secrets of a river
and a world wilder than my dreams..

Friday, May 21, 2010

In two long years
In 730 days
a globe turned black in front,
in consolidated pre fixed meridians
I broke my heart, my brain, my existence
in tiny splinters to find a rout map, 
a road  to one earthen temple
and when I walked back
from hacking shadows
Earth turned orange again
in Autumn flowers.....
Really,
near one sea shore
I hear a mountain speaks about a far end desert
where no trees no shadows grow
to extend a branch to hang on
a better place to edge walk
for twisted brains like them..
away from the glare, in all secrecy;
an escape resort to hide…
that is what written in lines of destiny
to drink comforts in style..
And a claim that time to move?
Really???
They declare
in time table charts the time of others....
In historic books
History sounds great
Good - for story tellers
let them settle their silly scores in fictions
and let them not fun ride on others
in mountain peaks,.
in discriminative masks;
Yes, this earth now knows from them
that ex in ex form in extreme edges...
And now I see one zero in cliff
moves from north to join them in..
Ocean; listen the heartbeat of earth
and roar roar on all such extremes
until they stop their invasions
in seashores...

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

In school of theocracy
I learned how this earth rolls
from dark night to a day
and how a day ends in harmony
on octaves of a musical scale
In between...
from the pleasing dew drops of a morning flower
my words traveled in curious eyes
to find the secrets of a narrow estuary
and in return overheard
the nontraditional, despotic language
of a mountain from its plastic like heart..
While in screens of silver, actors
staged up for the performance of a year
on many rock and rolls'; sidelining
the essence of classics,
sound failed to record a melody in digital readers
as the stage collapsed in one coastal wave
and a shore washed off
In books of theocracy
a country turned divine
near the tenth horizon

Monday, May 17, 2010

It is not a thesis I struggle to dedicate
in memory of a season
In Sangams rivers join, divert
and finally reach to no where to identify;
for them, in mornings I write not
but there is one I must tell
I write for...
not for those panchromatic lenses
who create fables and facsimiles for earth
not those ink marks wait in corridors
to settle several of scores in digital time boards
not at all for those changing facemasks
who stand behind like a space mission lab
and waste a lot of life in crafty experiments
to find  class of this earth and seasons;
listen,
there is one I write for
with no face masks or pretensions…
the one I can trust upon
there she stands- my little sisi...
and I need not worry 
if others differ or contradict.....
Earth was an orange like planet
when he opened his tiny mouth
and I watched him from a Garden
where flowers bloomed.
In misty mornings I wrote nothing
but about my village monsoon
and about dusty taar roads and black holes
All again about a God, people laughed at
It is true but he was there in that pillar
And I watched him from the walls behind;
from that day I turned towards him-God
and in my hand he gave me a block of butter,
sure, stolen from a mud pot; from Gokul
and when he held Govardan
I heard the thunderous swords of Indralok

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Words arrive wearing tiny droplets of rain
far from the hills which chained this earth on a stone
Words travel from thunderous lightening
like a sword to uncover the masks of a mountain,
Away from the foothills of a hideous mansion
time measures destiny’s shadows in length
near one Speaking-Tree of wisdom
from sea shores to sea shores
summer seasoned; in rains of May…

Saturday, May 15, 2010

I go back to my sea shore
where I belong
to collect sea shells
and watch one horizon  in orange autumn
And you faceless in groups
fly there in sky, hollows and balloons
and go; as a final trial.
I  watch them burst as hollows
and honestly like a child I try
to laugh with the whole inncence
left in this earth.....
In groups you conceal
spectrums and deals
drink bottles of tasteless water
sugar free......
And in ink prints I lost my trust
Real ones I find from classics,
stored in libraries of the world
Wisdom  I carry in quintals;
not to burst like hollow balloons
that sounds wise than a sting

Thursday, May 13, 2010

May arrives in flowers so dear to this nature
Showers this earth of mine in fragrance of words,
there that  mask of untruth wanes,
vanishes far away like a spring cloud.
From the golden sea shores of life
let me count the wisdom of world
sand by sand, grain by grain
and in sea shells, I hear the roars of ocean
again and again
again and again
like the whisper of a true friend
nature shows me the valley of a mountain..
deep down......so low...
from a narrow minded cliff..…
Two years ago there this flute I held
in my hand and music
And if anything changed that is not me
but only seasons and a cluster of faceless clouds;
Natural; nightingale sings from this green forest
of mine very close to where earth belongs
in rain filled soil
not very far from the valley of spring
where flowers wild bloom, wind pure
there this light so luminous reflects
on life and paints there the real hues
bright in orange….

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Refinement;
An element nature holds in mind,
In one cross board chart,
like in one graph, prints measures
in low and high variants..
And decades???
there appear days.....
may be 730 days...
things were different two summers ago
parallel lines not this violent
In truth..
In August, it began.. .gradual…
Earth traces no notable grace those days
in water or in water elements
but only a class-less chase
to trounce orange autumn to fall.
on a sting map...
In digital compact forms.
But the most refined mind
protects in close knit chambers  ideals
beyond third eyes.
In flakes and paints, refinement a mask,
a pretence, a costume
a matter dilutes in fresh raindrops.
Beyond spectrums,
Beyond phrases
Beyond pages,
Beyond ink marks,
Beyond hired brains,
Beyond compact forms
Beyond purchasable power;
mind travels unreachable, 
breathes on scents of refinement
not on artificial perfume bottles..
and from Toronto, clouds float
travel towards the falls of Niagara;
bewildered.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Explosion
sounded so real,
so natural
for the first time in express way
historic...
And geography of those graphic terms
Let me see from behind
Whose shadow is that?
Not mine indeed…
Is that a green tree
branch stalks this earth
or ink marks?..
or a blue eye 
from black clouds near skyroof?
or sophisticated civilization?
drink my existence drop by drop,
Explode naturally..
On foundations,
On basics,
On plinth,
On built up
Measure them
And look at your face
In one mirror
See the reflection
Explode on that with all your blues and hues.
Naturally…..
You find the sum total
Sum total of all errors..
in graphic form...

Monday, May 10, 2010

Several of nature’s people
with no spines and hollow in spinal cord
that must have seen near setting sun..
and who stooped???
You, broadest of broad heart
continue test trials on this earth,
beyond emotions,
beyond countable tolerance
in ink marks unique....
there this nature in chambers
reacts to trials in words....
but stoop not....
must have cautioned,
to understand… brains needed
not botulinum toxin, not cosmetic corrections;
While doing so nature must have whispered
in ears of the zero zones of future…..
north possibly…
but justifying deceit not nature’s way
Nature’s people..
Nature knows..
Power they hold but not to misuse...
Understand that beyond test trials,
beyond captions..
Nature's people
Earth like in orange bright

Sunday, May 9, 2010

One, two, three, four
more than twelve
Enough…..
can have a few more
to know about purchasable grace
paid up....
in conversion
pay dollars, euros .
pay liberally for cover ups
cosmetic touch up
plastic surgeries..
for the damage against elite disgrace
elite fall….
power serves and favors;
public illiterate, understand not the games
games of the polished elites…
in rostrum, Oscars fail
rehearsals excellent
and in bottom line
Honesty??? Ethics???
let me not learn that from masks…
those words belong to earth
purely earthen……
Parliament…
temple of democracy;
let me worship
with incense and camphor
on fragrance
for freedom lost…
for expressions lost
and for the songs lost.
In microchips, in one ocean,
away from the roaring waves
let me store my heartbeats,
thoughts and pages of wisdom
and you find not even
a quarter of a cent or a tiny element
from that in your adventurous
eye captures.....
And
Faceless….
Countless Prophets….
do you need quantum theories
and verification charts
in your research labs
for more scrutiny
to equate life in quotients
as follow ups.
Amended acts inscribe
Intrusion - a crime
for whom????
for the masses???..
emissaries laugh near the high end pillars
where that temple breathes,
temple of democracy..
where secrets mystify…
Is there any one to hold tri colour?
Pillars hold silence
Stone like....
I see no faces but see shadows
behind the carved stone pillars…

Thursday, May 6, 2010

It is true
No one gives their hearts
as gifts to solace against sorrows of others
And if some one claims
Never believe
Hearts not selfish
But beholders
Listen, Yes..
And the colorful ones,
Forwards arrive, later
to chain soul to panic waves of pacific
Himalaya you see, sages, seers
Jurassic-classic encyclopedia
a noble, royal planet
In mirrors watch reflections
collect rain drops from clouds
in hands to clear black spots
a year ago…
a year ago
in strings there was music
and the same music follows earth.
A  year after
There no change in pacific
other than the roaring blue waves
And in that heart hidden cries
of mistaken identities...
From one page to the next
It is written
Jordan dries.
Jesus baptized there.
And me, near my ocean not surprised
where clouds shower in summer
why not in Jordan
to fill to flow on senses
Life a dream!!! or not??
Seasons inscribe
in earthen dialects
in whispers of wind to storms
wise.. not to dream…
And when everything ends in blank
is there any right or wrong…
Calendars, almanacs show
Seconds, minutes,
Days, Night, Years
Time guides, misguides
Influences in directions four
right or wrong-utter conflict 
to fly in autumn leaves
or to flower in spring..
And while moving forward
past hangs like a portrait in front
and present cold like winter snow..
in each footstep...
Jordan dries..
Ocean not surprised….

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Some where in one ocean shore
In one summer,
I lost a word while flowing
down in one stream
From parting clouds
Like lightening I watched
the last alphabet
moving towards horizon
to disappear in one island
Silence..
My fingers whisper now on words
primordial, elemental, contemporary
avant-garde, futuristic
and on eras of four divisions
greed of a decked up compass
pierced the toiled grace of years
to ground zero, to dust
on its sharpened needles..
When sun equated day and night
earth stood apart
from changing seasons..
and fragrance of dawn
earthen
Sirium Myrtifolium
Prayers of Tagore

Monday, May 3, 2010

Gratitude! a word I cherish,
my question marks to destiny
an outgrown phrase book
Even when my soul cries
I carry this word gratitude
on my shoulders not as a burden
but as one priceless treasure
I owe that to many…
and those negative desert storms
And time, I owe the most
Apolitical I must say
Indu-moon the first clue
Mirrored on double edge
That showed me the first satellite
of planet earth
It mattered, I know
but where this clueless one
Crisscrossed …
From a world beyond planets
beyond cosmic oceans
and in countless pages
I rewrite past
each day brings a fraction,
a reminder for me to find
Signets of present
My conscience clear
my errors
I know…
but I hired no shadows
as support unit..
my friends got faces
and faceless???
how I know them.
For sure, I find no logic
that is where you differ.....
my conscience clear
All these days
I listened voice of the voiceless
Ink marks, advices
May be, my green tree
spreads its roots on earth
and trees grow towards sky
that is not an error
natural...
Down the hill what rivers search for
to talk about grass and blades
In collective senses
I know who hides behind fur
In wind, clouds showed me
those faces and you
one among..
I waste my time in research labs
to underline facts,
Yes..
against all synopsis
I find one crystal
my clear conscience
do you have one???
What in this earth
I am searching for?
me or my shadow beneath
that mango tree in my village home.
or those labored hard end words
from the wombs of dictionaries
tasteless but I understand
Not like the orange blend
in autumn fragrance
Not earthen…
See the difference
It sounds heavy
on brass copper fillers
burdened, but I carry them
like feather baskets
In rains earth breathes
fresh fragrance of soil..
Ocean, take in waves the salt
their black crows, arrows 
and give me horizon
to paint my words
in ornamental jewel boxes..
ethnic ones.. earthen

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Sovereign, Secular
We stand, Indian Democracy
freedom???
to love, to hate  to haunt to sting
and to be indifferent
to write to criticize and to hit hard
And at times, heads roll
Unexpected, unprecedented
Brainstormed..
Young join terror camps
Maoist trigger blasts
line of poverty grows
water scarce..air in meditation
And rivers…
Cauvery, Narmada, Sindhu
Governments fight for???
Water, 3G Spectrum
Colourful
Silence lost a word with voice
Valley of silicon
Speak differently
Garden’s language, pure
Secular…
Sovereign..beyond divisions
beyond constitutional errors
beyond covered feathercoats
natural…earthen..like ocean..
like rain...
Jesus…
that wooden cross
nails, pain and tears
time and again
carry in your heart as burden
for those ones- your creations.
Near the lighthouse
Prayers, in one song-my cross
I carry in my hands
See nails, sharp edges
narratives..
hurt lockers, broken images
stage plays…
and in margin pages
minds undo all in one cross
where hearts frozen
time dead..
and in last word
Images broken on one ridge
like tiny glass cuts of a mirror..
In extreme frontiers...
Jesus.. you suffer
for your own creative errors….
and on the day of resurrection
forgive those ones
your creations.. errors....
speech, silence...