96) This carnivorous world

96) This carnivorous world




Eye for eye, tooth for tooth,

flesh for flesh, this is the order
of this carnivorous world,
where chaos prevails, where libidinous
laws overrule, where forest guns and gunpowder
plots dominate, tissues of soft textures crushed ,
ravenous hunting for money as the highway men,
not more rapacious than the woman hunting for flesh ,
for her meat eating time endless,
she stops the needles of the clock,
lest her biting and tearing the flesh
should be checked. She is not the only one,
many similar in her cue and character,
leading the life of depravity and plunder,
nothing can shake them, nor will they deter to
indulge in ruinous paths. Their names sink
as their flesh stinks yet they don’t stop stinging,
as the wasp and scorpion sting in moves perpetual.
The only remedy is protecting
yourself from this Malady.

On the grass I make a table

On the grass I make a table...




On the grass I make a table,

On the grass I unmake a rubble,
Of hoary imagination turning into wild,
transforming ribald and raucous to a mild grid,
My needle of creativity spins and spins
Interlacing with flawless imagination pirouettes,
A depiction of rhyming skylark in bow,
or pecking green parrot, or cawing crow,
chick in the nestle peeping out in the morn,
when man is still in the inebriated run,
I  am still on the grass, build life that you shun.

A moment into a sad lawn

1) A moment into a sad lawn

A full round of one year is gone,
since you bade good bye to this earth  green,
a farewell to the world woebegone.



There a tree with brown, barren twigs,

A sparrow twitters, dances, squeaks,
methinks it weaves a forlorn tale of sadness,



for a soul departed to a better abode,
deserting this body unkind and crude and rude,
for kind she was to her conscience sane and good.

I have a fall

I have a fall


I have a fall:
Surrounded by a weltering
mass of messy, enmeshing,
gnomes, dwarfish in thinking,
giggle with a grouse for everything,
you spot a grumpy mouse with a
look of growl at the corner
of a dumping yard at the rear,
garnished invitatory smell
of spices, yet another side,
the fallen paper kite severed
from the deserting thread;
by the window, you draw an analogy,
one day your enticing,
endearing, perfumed ,intoxicated
skin is totally peeled off
by a ruling dictator at His will,
you also see a volley of
torn, distorted Xerox copies
fritter in the air, many lives
are disfigured, a big question mark,
you have fallen into
the deep insurmountable well
of Maya, ignorance,
Ignoramus flag flying high
above your head.

95) Disabled or enabled

95) Disabled or enabled


I was walking in the midst of
the busy motley crowd,
yet alone nibbling my left fingers,
for the right hand was laden with
the load of vegetable bag.
A sudden noise stops me:
Tut! Tut! Tut!
The measured beat on the road,
it was a walking stick,
serving just as a third eye,
as a vision of wisdom for the lost man,
The stick slender but sturdy,
substitutes his loss of his leg,
I was pondering at the philosophy,
machines move, man is marooned,
Tut! Tut! Tut! The fast moving vehicles,
The man on the moped,
all despaired, driven to a halt,
The handicapped was muttering,
cursing the polio that affected him young,
even unable to wipe the sweat on his forehead,
yet he buried his pains for long ago reconciled
his loss of his vital part of his existence.
not one impediment but many-----the sweat, the heat
and the melting tar and the jarring sound of the horns
impatient, yet impossible to nullify,
“cursed be the polio, cursed be the polio”,
his lips muttered as he moved along the crowd,
sudden, the handicapped senses the crossing of a dog,
he stops, Tut! Tut! Tut!
He cannot afford to be
as impatient as the others,
nearby a cell phone rings softly,
for it reminds he needs be different.

94 Silence

(94) Silence

The breakfast in the table became stale,

even-I the duty-conscious made the breakfast

burning my fingers in the stove,
rushed to my work spot,
stunned to see the flies
around the vessel kept half open,
he thought he was wise, for he slipped off
to sleep by a woman, for whom
skin to skin there is no skin,
who, vile , poisoned into his ears
that his wife was infidel,
somebody made nocturnal visits
for sinful cash and insidious flesh ,
thirty long years of long living
was marred by three years of stealthy slips
only to know that she made beds with many before
he came back to me with defeated fake smile
not knowing I know the world afore,
only to continue my silence more.

93 An outcry

93) An outcry


Oh! Man, why this double dealing, double-faced
attitude, besmeared and blackish in actions,
ike a deer chased and driven by circumstances:
yet milk white in appearance, misleading the plain
and innocent, neither open-hearted nor decisive
but doubt and antipathy corroding you forever
encircling the surrounding like the blinds drawn abruptly,
doubting your life partner who gave her life to you
but you were ensnared by a woman libidinous
with her sugar-coated words enticing you,
embittering your life and living around you,
words of arrows aimed at you deeply ingrained
and hatred embedded made you
susceptible, freedom frozen;
I pray don’t be drawn by the mirage and diluted
By the optic illusion, to be sustained longer and stronger
let your ears be clogged by cotton of disbelief,
lest you should be convinced by tricks of con women,
let not your ego be traded upon, trafficking into other’s lives
to make a reasonable living on this earth transitory.

A flicker in confusion

A flicker in confusion.
A prolonged zig zag, tedious path
of setbacks and thimbles, where
You stumble and fall often,
just as Confusion which often
misleads humanity into NOT tangible orb,
cut or cross the brambles thick grown,
You seek salvation to a clear cut path,
a tumultuous roar of waterfall
deafening and deadly, somewhere
It is also medicinal, cures ailment,
cleanses corrupting ground,
You hear the cacophony of where is god,
No need to capitalize god for god
Is capitalized in terms of flesh and
Coin by those skinny, unconscious :
yet, He sees these knowingly unseeing,
He endures for some more.

Better to be a pebble.

Better to be a pebble or a stone.

Yonder in the beach, I spot a shimmering
pebble , does not wear a
Paranoid ambition, rolls and tumbles
and not turgid, Succumbs to splashes,
white , foamy, lathered, sounding a ghastly siren,
what does it matter for the globular pebble,
I see it embedded on the sandy dunes ,
no angst of sorrowed despondency , nor
redoubled jubilation, it is born with
The ageless age, lives with the corroding times,
imbibes the synergy, yet stable and stubborn
in its spectrum of cave.

Who is she?

She sits by my side, reclines on the
Unseductive pillow, does not care
to count ages in the
milestone of her flag post
nor does she work on life of
savour less colours , figures
and numbers on the calendars,
she does not seek rhythm in the
lengthy passages of prosaic beauty,
hardly ever weaves a tale on the
veil of patches:
She is HOPE looking up
for a quick dawn and safe morrow.

(92) Me thought we played a stealthy game.

Me thought we played a stealthy game.

Me thought we played a stealthy game,
Cupid’s arrows strong and straight forward,
did I say Cupid or, infatuation shall we call?
flesh for flesh, kiss for kiss, during daylight
hide and seek within four walls, like the petals
fallen till our ego satisfied, till passion saturated,
she gave me cups and cups of poison in insinuations,
mixed with the mix of love for a motive,
our nocturnal bliss full of actions and actions replay,
midnight adventure maddened and blindfolded,
hooked into a mirage of vainglory,
construed God as callous, concupiscent,
cuts the phone, severed my ties with family,
concubine lascivious on my lap,
bit every inch of my flesh,
as she bit my ears with undeserving ambitions ,
drought set in and thirst doubled,
shame in a land of God’s plenty,
drought and heat scorched mankind,
some in a mood of clairvoyance predicted,
seasons failed rightfully when sins doubled,
mankind’s heart parched with aridity,
drinking water purchased, the wells studded
with black stones, the dried land
became a sinned mound: sleepless , tainted
nights haunting us. Our mutual lips
muttering each other’s names in disturbed
Nightmares betrayed our histrionic colours.

91) If I am pained by the colour of the black...

If I am pained by the colour of the black....(91)
If I am perplexed and pained by the colour of the black,
by the devilish ravenous, black, thoughts thrown on me,
deliberate attempt on my white apparel and plain demeanour,
I pondered whom to reprimand and take refuge in,
the deluge is devastating and yonder the black bird caws,
driven away by the gathering clouds , disperse to nest,
wound cuts and wronged sentiments throw further scum,
the colour of the black is not ever black for the thatched roof
and the milking black cow and the black maid to keep the
room clean, do they care for their colour or abhor their creator?
does the red blood refuse my black skin?
white-tiled kitchen ,does it vie with the polished black granite?
does the farmer refuse the black sickle ?
does the sickle refuse the green and grass and vegetation?
if the black huge elephant with white tusks
resist the colour of black where can it weep?
Yet a moment of with drawl for my white heart
captured by the aromatic jasmine!

Exorcist (90)

Exorcist ( 90)
The huge eucalyptus tree with drooping branches,
conical leaves, swings and swings with sweeping thud,
just as an elephant with a lengthy trunk
parades in the centre of the market with
its nose or mouth whatever you may call it,
rolling or unrolling blessing the visitors
and the young undaunted children;
I know not who has planted the sharp edged
tree befriended by the tree with orange flowers
ornate on the wall, a bifurcation between my house
and the famous health -centre.
The cool breeze whiz past the surroundings
as if to blow the conch of freedom,
serving a therapy for the sickly , shattered,
comes as a splash, a Messiah, to my
wounded heart and soul:
The wood pecker enjoys the monopoly
of the branch of orange and red flowers
Perchance weaving a tale of expectation
and hope swinging and swinging.
I sit marooned in front of my balcony,
oval-shaped, to the edge of which the
wind blows, my hands ready to reach
drooping leaves, exorcising me.

Beyond the sunset ( 89)

Beyond the sunset

I walk along the sanguine path of my anguished soul takes in,
to be redeemed by the floral paradise of flowers and trees,
I see I am in sylvan forest or floral fort, not of stone walls
but of beautifully arranged red and violent flowers,
the tall trees, the shade of which falls like graphics on the floor,
the thick green leaves pose as gravels and pebbles on a villa,
the V-shaped pathway leads me on to an arch,
my dampened, dispirited soul gets an aura, enthusiasm,
not for nothing, the great bardic poet said,
“ every flower enjoys the air it breaths”,
I too partake of the sanguine breadth and feels
elated for this birth.
Passing through the pathway is like
passing a period of transition,
The V-shaped pathway as if sounds
You are pushed down only to climb up:
I sit in the golden chariot of Sunset
to journey across boundaries unlimited.

The green parrot

The Green parrot (theme)

It is not a parrot green in the cage,
as if to pirouette when let loose,
pour squeaks of message as if a sage,

it is my pet, the pet of my choice,
who delights, the warped cage rotates,
it echoes, entwines, shrills and thrills ,

yet, I see the sage in Him endures,
for those around and accustomed,
It is a warning of impending holocaust:

My pet is the same, cool, casual,
I envisage it offers me a talisman,
for some, it is better to shun as slam.


A growing menace, nuisance,
Naughty to be abrogated,
Me it is the same with its endearing signals
Of miracles.