The Moon

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Hey Miss Moon

Miss Loony, Lonely, Marmy Moon.

You remind me tonight of a woman,

I once knew.

 

Tales of her beauty

Far, they flew.

Such sheen she lay on the sky,

Of a thousand lovers hearts.

 

Someday, one of them got

A little too close,

And all his eyes saw and lips knew

Were your pits and scars,

And dents and blues.

Like a sad hag tossed out of her hut

You sat in your gloom.

 

Maybe that is why you want to be alone.

To shine on your own.

Never to be touched,

Never to be owned.

Only to be gazed and gaped at by

Those who want to hold you,

Their own way.

 

To keep all your belongings

Large and small,

Silver and gray,

From going far and

Astray.

 

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You

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Choose a path

Even when stumbling through

The blinding darkness of a night in the jungle.

 

Choose a path

Even when swimming in

An ocean full of currents.

 

Choose a path

Even when walking through the garden maze

Of friends and families who forget you

In the throes of their celebrations.

 

Choose a path

Even when doubt appears more comfortable

Than your good old friend

Belief.

 

Choose a path

When riding through the dimming haze of a mysterious fog,

Or the furious rage of an uncalled sandstorm.

 

But always choose

That path,

That breaks all these barriers,

To come to You,

And only be Yours.

 

Choose a path

That Becomes Yours,

That Becomes

You.

 

 

Tulips

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The sun shined a brilliant blaze through my

Glass doors today,

Shifting this mind numbing daze built in the column of my living,

With aeons of flying shed dust

That refuse to sediment in the murky waters of time.

 

As if God stood as a guest in guise outside our humble hearth.

Tears of brilliance and reverence in my eyes.

Maybe there is some one I could love

Far and close, near and away.

 

It is winter with no blooms to cheer you

In my withering gardens,Sweetheart.

They are as gray and sullen

As this season after feasts and bygone goodbyes.

As I gave the last of my mirths to

Strangers of blood and not.

But there are songs of robins and sparrows and whatever of them,

Still care to sweeten my

Ember of a soul.

Singing in gratitude of nature and time

And better days to come by

Because ’tis a beautiful one.

Today.

 

Last night I withered through the storms with

A wayward bough hitting the windows and door,

Like a petrified orphan.

And I thought of those obstinate kisses

I once wished for as much as the

Embrace that would not let go off my

Ill, rebel of a being.

Maybe, before I move to a better loved home?

 

For now, I have, however, some rainbow tulips

In a vase waiting for a Lover’s gaze

To unfurl every petal and drench his

Thirst for youth, colour and all that can be used up and ruminated.

Like an abuse you spew out of your mouth in terrible heat

Of your heart.

 

Come if you may, to sit by the fire.

Tell me some stories of yours, ours, what ifs and

Those that can never be heard.

Hold my hand, as fragile as the skin above my veins.

Dont let it go off,

Not even in an absent thought.

Because I can

With all that I have.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Little Brown Leaf

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She washed ashore

This little brown leaf,

Laying in a pool of

Sad salt water,

Looking up at me

Like an abandoned child.

 

She must have heard a million tales

From lands unknown, from winds afar.

Singing to her,

Were the shells thrown out

By the princesses

Who had treasures everyday anew

Galore and galore.

 

She must have seen

Sailors and prisoners,

Witches and their crafts,

Lonely men in their towers and

Women recuperating from love,

Who cried and thought they ruled

Their own lairs.

Ah, mankind!

 

Crackling nights deceptive of dawn

Bright in the middle of

Nowhere,

Nothing to dine,

Only to drink

Brine and breathe in,

The vacuum air of

Another sunrise.

 

Plankton,

Sweet child of mine,

Of another era.

Another kingdom, another sphere,

Who wrung  you

Off the green I hoped you were once,

Was it the harsh cold waters of

God’s own making?

Or dry currents that free will

Desired when smitten by

Glory?

 

I hope you make my red toe nails and

Hobbit feet

Your refuge.

Maybe I could give you a name

And you could tell me all your dreams,

And other forgotten stories of

Fame.

 

I will never let you out

Into the sea,

That mass of unknown

Again.

You frail and fragile body

With no fragments known to

Fate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reflections

reflections

Where did my dear

I let go off you?

When did I leave

That rope

I had tied your heart to

My able, small hands?

In between the lines of our lives

To the lines that now lie

Beneath our eyes,

When did I lose you

While seeking lost treasures

In the kingdom beneath

The sea that held legends and gold

And ships and shells

As false as their

Tales of mermaids.

 

Will a note of love be good enough

Or a Sufi’s* blessing?

Bottled with the pearl of

My yearning,

Pushed across the sea

By the abr** sent by the

Gods above who have always

Loved me.

Will the pining heart of

A shy poet do?

Will the strength of a

Monk in reverence,

To let us be

Do?

There must be a map somewhere,

Hidden amidst rocks and thorns

In a cave swallowed by the

Shadows of phantoms of

Another world,

That will take us to

Jannat***

Far beyond our

Conscience,

Our grasp.

 

I will get on my saddle now,

I will ride my white beauty

Through the moonlit fields now,

Like a raging dacoit.

Silence torn by

Screams that will never be

Let out.

Before anybody else up above

Throws an irate sword of thunder

To plunge this night of

Our lives.

 

*mystic (Urdu)

**clouds (Urdu)

*** paradise (Urdu)

 

 

 

 

 

Home

A Long Road Ahead

It is a long way to home.

Home, where sometimes I know

no Home.

Well, what is a home

When the heart is

Always a nomad.

Somedays here, somedays there,

Somedays found and

Somedays lost.

The sun shined above the fields of heather for me

Today.

Maybe an invite

Wrapped in purple to lure

and call it a

Home?

*

My mind runs faster

Than my deformed feet.

*

My heart is still sunk

In the memories of

Yesterday’s winter.

The cold and dark

My motel for a long time.

They let go of me

Even the frost needs rent,

And I am penniless

With no dimes to rub or spend.

I am back with my old friend

The shadows from the alleys.

Together we lurk

Like the ghosts of a long lost legend,

Listening to the jingles and looking at the twinkles

Oggling at drunk wanton cherub faces of

Joyous December,

And remembering the warmth in the innards

Of our soul

That could vein in us

With hot boiled spirits.

*

I ran the entire length of spring,

Blooming buds of cherries and daffs and all.

Baby greens dotting the widowed trees,

A new promise laid in

The womb of time.

Branches singing together

With the mirth of mynahs.

 

Let this be where I breathe

In and out now.

This cloud and sun speckled ground

Where I dance the songs

Of lost dreams.

Lost,

With the youth of time.

 

But I still know

I am miles away from home.

And I still know,

I will return back to that motel

I once belonged.

 

 

 

 

Lepers Lunch

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Yonder was a Wednesday noon,

The October sky,

Up high

Pastels of blue, pinks

And golden hues

She beamed up high,

A siren of the 50s.

 

Her jewel brewed brine from

A frail body of mine,

A body played by

Life and her wits

To bits of veil,

Bought for a better marriage.

 

The heat balmed my flesh,

Melancholy marred by monotony,

I saw the grey craters of a rising moon.

She, a faded pearl of the night,

Masking her golden nemesis of the sky

In beauty, worth, poetry and more.

 

I’ve walked down this murky path alone,

Several times before, several times after now.

A shack that was once a home,

With no more yellow canaries

To tweet me a goodbye.

 

My mind grumbled along

The stones on which I

Tumbled,

To balance my youthful body

I immure my soul of its own.

 

Oh! Longing for a downpour of rains

To wet my body, to whet my appetite.

To slip down the road

And dance away the pains,

To live on this earth

Over the moon!

As my muses knotted along the road

To twisted truths,

Of friends, strangers and ghosts;

Trying to keep my left

Yet, to be reminded

by honks and bonks and the dust in my conks.

To enact a life,

We chose to know

And chose to see,

I chanced upon this small brown man,

Frowned with age, bound with bondage

To a friend that

Slowly feasted on his flesh!

 

A midget of a man,

Seized at the corners by shun.

Neglect of love, neglect of fate,

Pulled down by the grimaces

Of a thousand faces

Known, unknown,loved and disliked,

That saw not beyond

A receding man in a yellow rag.

 

He looked like a wild cat

Out of the huge yellow box,

Fishing out a pack

Of unopened rice.

Rich man’s waste, a leper’s joy tonight.

 

And with the smile of a child

Whose eyes held delight

Like a novice to the fair,

He squat on the ground

Delirious with his find,

Nimbly guarding his small feast

With little worm nibbled knobs,

Which once held, stroked and played

Every face of love!

 

No more in his world was

You anymore than I,

Glutton gnawing in the glory.

Hands on rice,

Rot on hands,

The eyes that watched him

He uncalled for.

 

For he, who woke up to a sunrise and

Roamed the streets under this sky,

Unclad feet, uncared for

In the heat and cold alike.

Senseless.

Baseless.

Comfortably numb.

No random thoughts, to play on.

Nobody to own

And to be owned.

A stone for a bed

And the shadows of night

To blanket him.

 

I, a slave of my rants,

A queen of supposed laughters,

A loud woman who pitied none but me,

Heavily rimmed eyes

Now punched by a blinding light.

 

The sun finally rose in the daze of

An unsettled mind

to finally realise,
As it sank into the sky

Dropping a mirage of,

What is true?

What is false?

Dragonflies and Monsters

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What do you want?

all that you can bite

And a bit more.

 

And then.

Where do you go

from here,

Across the fields of gorse

Where the mountains

will mother you

And the winds will sing

lullabies of wars fought

and heroes gone.

And you will stand

In awe of her love

Foreboding the changes to

Come

And she will whisper to

You and the

sea across

to spread blue warmth

upon these cold, cold skies.

To remember

The smoke and  unsung heroes

Her blood, her breed, her tears.

And to cry

a dry eye, a deluge in your

Heart.