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

LL

 

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?

December

Little bird.

Are you lost amongst the thorny brambles

That are knitting up the winter sky.

Are you hungry

For the grains, the kind, placid strangers of summer

Threw your way.

Are you looking for the  voice 

That was once used for singing

The tragic ballads of autumn love

That died along with them

Leaves.

You know,

I am here

Waiting with a basin 

Full of love and tears of a bygone 

Year.

Soaking the seeds of tomorrow,

A much brighter morning, 

A much calmer noon,

In the soil of my little strength.

Don’t leave me a trinket.

It is nothing but 

Another memory of you 

Owing me something.

You must have heard this 

But my love knows no 

Gratitude,

Or simple words.

Only pay me a visit,

Or pay me a flutter

Of your beautiful wings,

And those colourful plumes.

For to see

Your beating bosom,

Throbbing with a million 

Dreams and,

And your eyes 

Meeting a million

Destinies,

Beats a thousand rhythm of 

Lives,

In my heart and

December thoughts.