9/23/2007

SOME POEMS IN ENGLISH

1.

Life has just departed
With me in its baggage
And a Tiffin of memories,
Leaving the feeling of
Just missed train,
Back on the platform.

Were it not for the receding tail lights
There would not have been a trace of
Me
That came and was lost in wilderness,
Of hatred,
Of holocausts in every backyard,
Of Vietnam and Iraq,
Of Sahara of hunger and disease,
Of bigotry of Gods,
Of riches and penury,
Of treachery of man against man.

I look now from distant future
Of paths traversed,
Steps on sand dunes,
Of someone crossing
With himself in tow,
With a sapling in his hands,
To plant
In some fallow land,
On this earth,
Without frontiers,
Without boundaries,
Without deed papers.

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2.

Of clouds that hung on a low ceiling sky
I can say nothing
There were none on that fateful night
The sun that retired the night before
Did not wake up this morning
In time.

High on cocaine, with uncertain steps
We walked few steps, you and I
Down to the river bank
Of memories
Those were washed ashore from distant past.
Pebbles lighted by darkness
Glowed
The child in me jumped out on the balcony
With excitement of new found love
As
The sun was just about picking stars
From that low hung ceiling______
Pigs on a garbage dump
The leftovers from life
Spent on shoestring budget.
I have legs that take me into future
With or without
Shoes
On dreams that you and I often weave
Of just being.

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3.

In the evening shadows
On my retina
The lights do not stir,
Stir anything, any longer
And I suddenly stop in my tracks
On a journey
Through endless roads,
Of memories,
Of time spent,
Of love lost,
Of fields deserted,
Of rivers dried.

In my drawing room the wall clock stops
I really pass, from is to was
In to the memories
Of my sons and daughters,
For hard times they had
Of my brothers and sisters,
For all the attention that I had taken away
Of my wife
Who will certainly remember
My hands moving on her body
Lips crushed between teeth.

Put me down on the ground
Without pillow or mat
I still want to feel the pain
Of protruding stones
Of unpleasant memories
Piercing my back.
Must I walk,
walk unaided
On wings that will fetch me
To the coreOf someone who has been,
had been.
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