Saturday, October 24, 2015


Whiskers of thy touch, weaves
Passion of tears and tides
Cajoling inveterate
The link to thy groove
To cup thy beauty
In my eternal sip, that
Gleam a buoyant bloom
Twinkling my blood stream

All ornamented bearings;
That flesh my wants
Claws my breath

Now, the time comes
To covet my perfunctory wishes
And grow into thy bliss;
Sans any desire
Sans blood and breath


Who will fill the 'Dots'
of genuine freedom
"The freedom of speech"

What Govt, does with censorship;
It Does.

What of a drop
that ripples
the whole of cosmos


Sitting dark, on a limping chair
I rub my nose by distance of one or two
Throttling the water flow
Along the diameter of cold pipe
That curves,
To pour water on my Sintex roof top

I peck the returning shadow, twice
In simmer of howling night;
Proving the worth of my consequences:
Did I grow my beak, strong
Making friendship with the sparrow at sunrise today!

Was fearful of the consequences:
Who cut your nose?

The distance kept on eluding
The glum of sitting night, and
I kept on checking the attachment
to suave my nose


Moments have gone
Easing its pulse

Dilapidated old pillars, delude
The momentary pride

Coving smug the wreck
Chapped lips with cold blood

Cobweb, denude
The bearings of strength

Treacherous time runs high
Enticing the trap

Old skins odour sweet
Sagging putrid in mushroom bloom

Mighty mites buzz brown hills
Rubbing rubble mixing roots, deep

Lo, one more stake takes shape
Fixing by modern pillars

Tuesday, October 20, 2015


Not a filial bond
A deeper understanding of ‘self’
Between the silent dump
Wagging and rising
The trough, deeper inside;

The clue for ridges, disappear
Behind the plethora of
Crescent waste:
The crumpled crest

The tidal waves repulse
An oceanic throb
That builds their castle
In silent dreams;
Marred with splashes
Marking a dead end
at the cantankerous shore
Thumping belligerently
The brutality of filial bond.


When I shudder
to take thy pulpy pink
The baby born

Know it,

I wrestle my faith
To quiver
somewhere, there
In the wreck of the modern age

Time bomb, pins up
In a blast; ticking away ... all

wreath the last, the least;
to defuse
the tickling sound
still ticking...
in silent graves!


Seven skins; hem
The edge of a sari

Your sandals,
Tread openwork
In peacock gait

Bearing friction
Between tar and the toe
You march
Flaming the road

The seven skins…!

Sunday, October 18, 2015


Lump of throat
Clog my nostril;
A warm drop rolls down
The frosty eyelids

Your magnanimity
Fire my spirit
To owe you
My last breath
Beyond the constrain of time,
To where, every of my dust
Prove worthy of my existence
Beyond death,
My consciousness regale
Serving you my existence and beyond…

I wipe my nostril
Sticking ooze
by my thumb-knuckle;
Glistering, twisting wrist, search
Some dry spots
A pant, a body, recurrent
Pulsating moments, alive…

I owe you my breath, indebted forever,
O my bounty, my crave of heart
O the incarnate thee, the nameless ONE
The supple hands, sagging skin...

I wipe my nostril, heavy of heart!


There is more to twitch, cautiously
The 'Amber' of traffic signal;
At the trajectory of beehives jam

It fumes more smoke, burning petrol
Than, streaking beauty at the edges;
To tan the skin in scorching sun

Blisters are my paradise
That feel a mole, my moon; as
I heed no honk playing thy cheeks

Lights dangle, spherical crowd beep;
I of the breed, take thy plume
Wafting the air in my static stance

Bypassing my stay a little longer
I pave roadway to a galaxy, that
Sheath the matter of my love

~ Inspiration DN (Daipayan Nair... my poet friend)


It takes many names
To commute the beauty in
What is left of words;
Flips an ocean of tales
To confide the imagery, Bonafide!

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Celebrating luminous

Celebrating luminous
I die my clans by eons
alluring thy light;
Where the sect, is
no different, from
the burning fire
Where my soul resides


Have gathered a new storm
Furrowing the muse, indepth

The bristles that play taut
Still, yield not to thy art

Have taken a vow by my bow
To crest the fallen heave

Pantheons of imagery ply
To comply, bumping my wishes

Craving an epicurean hue
I sybarite my rainbow dreams

A moronic opera I conduct
Televising skirt and legs

What fatuous inanities I gain
I gain, a moron by my standing

What beauty remains of 'remain'
Remains a carcass to my last

To yearn my longing
I keep burning my corners anew

To ensigns regalia to thy beauty
I cloak, all my vastness in

... and I yearn!

Friday, October 9, 2015


An epicurean of love
Slammed the distance
With a surly thump
Yearning a call, without
A care in the world

Wriggling in flipping pain
He cried,
An oven of smoke,
Amber of his love

While the ribbon of life
Was thinning his length
Grating, shred after shreds;
The remnant nipped
His brisk breath

Journeyman, a passerby
Intoned a song
Gabbing a lousy laugh
And tore free, outlining
An empty quest

Tuesday, October 6, 2015


By an axis of curvature
My ‘Dream’ rolls,
Twisting and turning
The imagery, real
In perennial blink

Very often
Absence in me, makes
My pillow moist;
Soaking teary warmth
In convivial drip

Those rare off burn
Consume my strength,
Guiding forlorn
My echoing grief;
In silent body tavern


Commend the beautiful fire
Combing longer flames;
How I wonder, what
Procurement they gain
Igniting farthest planets
Maintaining planetary stance

My ‘Mercury’ stands close
Tolling the ‘Pluto’ bell;
No less big is Jumbo ‘Jupiter’
Grazing ‘Earth’ green;
My ‘Venus’ shies my youthful days
To ‘Mars’ my Lollipop

Commend the pleasant play
Alluring the skies
With a nuptial knot;
Garland an honour, tempting
Shooting stars, awake!


How i ask my breath
To beat for me, as
You are so far away
like a painting
in forlorn look!

Swachata Abhiyan

Brooming 'time'
six days a week
Thoughts are cleaner
than on sundays


I knuckled my bones, stiff
Bending my toes
Footing, half slippers; perspiring
a silent beat

Cloying an oppressive air
Voice lost its volume, as
An uncanny whisper
Sneaked, by its larger shape

Fear grazed grimly
The strange twilit lofts
Weeding the dank darkness
Cocking my ears

I groped
About my slippers,
Cracking louder bones
Against the resurgent voice

A pungent smell hung
The dark doorway
Rasping its nose, while
I inhaled the whole world, agape!


Be safe, lest
Beauty can overrule
the edict


I eagerly followed
the movement of the Dark;
listless, I began to hear
Noiseless fish, as they swam
about the fearful waters
Above, the fathomless beneath
veering along the mindless path
keeping a deep sigh within

Muted all began, Death
flapping its deathless wings;
a treacherous comforter
familiar and indispensable;
inspecting quiet and lonely place
Choosing a winning noose, hanging
by the strong branches, lurking
behind the detestable forest, grim

I eagerly composed
Little by little
A brief farewell letter
Those were to be found on my corpse;
Relapsing my momentous pride, that
I did not do in my life;
Desperate and forlorn straits
Now wait my sudden demise


Chandeliers of life events,
decorate manger by the crib

Perforce, all glands are joyously filled
evoking nuance feeding the beat

Subtly, moments settles fast
Untimely insinuation for the bereaved

The dying have only one abode to settle
The life slur many agonies left

Apparent, are the apparition whole
that house craters and water on the moon


दर्पण के अल्म में 
पाया था तुझको कई बार 
ना जाने कौन सी कसक बाकी थी 
जिसको देखा, नफ़स 
वहाँ से विलीन हो गई 

अब तो परतें भी जमने लगीं हैं 
पत्तें भी झरने लगे हैं;
रौशनी भी काया बन झुरमूठ तले 
आँख मिचौली खेलने लगी है 
फ़क़त, फांस भी एक पहेली सी लगने लगीं है 

माना की बेदाग़ थे हम 
रब के औलाद थे हम:
फकीरी क्यों कर आयी ;
लगी थी जिसको 
उसी की नुमाइस करने लगे हैं हम 

दर्पण भी झूठ बोलते हैं 
एक चेहरा छुपा कर दूसरा उगलते हैं;
अब तो चाहत भी नहीं 
गंजे सिर पर बाल उगाने की 
काया तो काया, दर्पण भी बेरंग होने लगे हैं