Follow by Email

Friday, July 19, 2013

And the jester said to me:
This is just the storm before the calm!
For fools like us,
Happiness is only

An open mouth.

Monday, July 8, 2013


I was thrown into this world
a little sponge.

I absorbed first my mother
and then my father
before I went to school
and sucked in all the
lessons, children,
parents, teachers,
guards, bus drivers
and random strangers
who came my way.

I was a big sponge now
(but still a sponge) and I
leaked at times, and I hated
what oozed out of me
so I regurgitated what I could
and set about despising the rest,

I began to fool myself into thinking
that I was not a sponge
but a rat.

So I began to look for holes
to hide in and to stuff all I stole
and my little rat friends came by
and we ate our cheese together.
This went on for quite a while.

I ran around from hole to hole
looking over my ratty shoulders
for the cat I thought would eat me
but never came.

I ran from my parents,
older rats, younger rats,
lies, truth, honesty,
dishonesty, good, evil,
from the greedy fat ruling rats
and the stubborn reds,
from the police.

Everyone was a rat to my eyes
because I was one,

Things happened, my perspective
started changing. I began to see
things in other rats
that I didn't before.
I saw those things in myself.
Sometimes I even forgot we
were thieving rodents.

Then I met a great doe
who thought she was
a rat too, but i knew she wasn't
and then I knew I wasn't.

She was a sponge just like me.
And though she leaked
sometimes, I took that
and began to accept it in myself.

I hope I can remember now
that I am just a sponge.
And if I forget,
remind me.

Thursday, June 20, 2013


I sit
in an empty parking lot in Dubai
with both hands
on my temples
and think about the girl,
about other people's troubles
and I realise I haven't had a drink.

Then I realise that I can't, It's Dubai
and I start walking,
suddenly I smell a sea.

I stand
next to an empty beach in Dubai.
and the water doesn't roll in waves
It just goes up and down,
pissing me off.

I have reached
an empty residential colony in Dubai.
Not really empty, they're all just asleep
and I think
they must have drank at their homes.

I stand at the center
of an empty crossroads in Dubai
I'm getting tired
and all the cars are doing a hundred and twenty.

I look up
at all the towers
of oil-money Babylon
and i curse them.

Fifty dogs start barking
and somehow I am terrified
so I run.

I find
an empty cab
and beg the driver to take me to some alcohol,
I think I was crying.

He brings me
to a hotel bar
thats open all night.

I sit at the counter
the 'tender is polite and Sri Lankan
a beer costs 50 D
but i still
tip him.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

there is no pain in suffering
should you know you can teach in song

there is no sin in bluffing
should you know you can right your wong

And there was a gaunt man at the window
his palms were on his knees

his eyes were almost tears
his mouth a halibut
his ears were almost gills

And there was a lady on the still
hand on cheek and still
Shining bright
seemed topaz dyed
Couldnt hear her
her eyes were asking for a favour

Whiskey breath is old now
and years are marked by candles blown
but there is still
a girl on the sill
Baffled man has paused till
she speaks

And its clear to both of them from time to time
some heads must meet only under the sky

And sometimes generations masturbate themselves to sleep
and generous time will have huffed and puffed
unlearning its patience

Unlearn yours.

Malbenis.. It's a shame,isn't it?
Seems fine to me.

he was a fine man in his youth
Odd faced but solid as rocks
all his women were fine
specimens of a
common affliction
often the affliction was him

As he grew older though
the woman on the sill never
Malbenis raved in middle age
and loved the people he scared
A common affliction.

She never looked at him different
he bathed forever
in naked splendour
in the pools of her ample eyes
And she smiled on the sill as he banged doors, kicked cats,
drank spluttered and wandered back exhausted.

It took him eighty yeas to
burn through eighty lifetimes

Morning glory on the sill smiled still the same

Friday, March 22, 2013

Learnt it, they'd rather have you dead.

You could love them, you could give them all
You could swing it so they never saw you fall
You could mask yourself with the merriest tune
You could smile your prettiest smile with all the tenderness inside..

But all the lovers that you sought
You're just a soul that they bought
You will never have a home
just an ever-empty room with a hint of sweet perfume
that you caught maybe ten years ago..

So I admit it, I do not know how
to live in a dead head
and an ever empty bed where I got lost forever when you left my hand.

O princess of the plains
Why can't you keep me now?
Every sound is too loud and the limbs don't move anyhow..
A man is at your door and you dream of seven more.

Admit it, you'd rather have him dead .

He came through valleys and brooks
Twenty hours for a glimpse of you
He slept on a vomit stain
A trash pile by his brain

But his fate is stranger still, you were just one danger,
who knows what lies in store?
Lock the lover up, for his own good, for ever more. 

Its a sick world, sick,sick,sick.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012


Merry boys and dogs administer cold justice to cold mountains with the patter of their feet.
Ancient peoples cluster on overhangings to remark at whiteman's ascent
for green and gold; them both.

Whiteman clings for sweet sensation in empty, empty samsara
and boys and dogs clatter home.

Fool's gold was foretold to be the next deity by them past .
They strayed for it, it was their original sin and lightening;
and boys and dogs slept nights, empty as sweet samsara.

Its a sick world, sick,sick,sick.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

GRS (When found before the flood)

Whence have you come from, soft children of mine own mind?
Take refuge in my darkness; boughs of roses you will find
atop a breeze, for only what flies can hold up my sentiments.
I stand undressed before glories of natures before me
but thick window-glasses separate me,

Mother, take me. Nurses are not women.
Teats do not satisfy, divinity remains sheathed,
Gory armies till land in my hand as i am fidgeting.

But you! Silly children! Stay and sup to my cooking.
I delight cretins, i was raised by jugglers.
Curious broths escape my kitchen
Rows of running shoes in line make wine.

And i drink! How i drink!
I drink to paintings yet to be painted
I drink to myshkins yet to be tainted
by the blood under the wheel.

The wheel churns mercilessly outside my window to the underworlds,
but the glass repels my bombs.

A flood is imminent; those above shall hear mere whispers
and I will float.

The scum will breathe
and climb down the trees.

Its a sick world, sick,sick,sick.