Fifty Two: Lust

Lust
Thirst,
for sweat.

Thirst
for smells.

Thirst
that his voice
clings to your skin.

Thirst
to never let
His memory escape.

Thirst
and never wash
the passion away.

Thirst
to keep all aches
from fading

Thirst in the rains
for summer.

Thirst in summer
for shade.

Thirst for dreams
and then for sleep.

Thirst
to feel life inside.

Growing like lust,
taking root,
forming a face
emerging.

Thirst forever,

Like Meera,
Like Buddha,
Like you and me.

Lust,
must be nirvana then.

6/7/05

First published on Caferati

Coffee stain

Right on my chest,
Just under the spot,
where a heart is supposed to be.

Is a coffee stain.

The circle of the cup
not complete,
(one can imagine it though).

Last night,
As the caffeine kicked in.
And drove grit out of my eyes,
chasing sleep.
I gnawed at it in vain.

And gave up.

Coffee stains of these kinds
Never go.

They just linger in the blood.
And run in streams of thoughts.

Like abandoned children.

Coffee stains
of some fresh brew
strong.
Yet not there.

And a few more verses

I discovered a few more poems written between meeting investors and fighting pitched battles to survive.

untitled

blessed,
the aura around you,
even sunshine,
fades in your presence.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Firefly ideas
a billion light bulbs,
like fireflies
all extinguished
at sunrise.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Fifty One ; Cloud and the Ramzaan Moon

Awake at 4 am,
when night is still sleeping,
and the day asks itself
the purpose of waking again.

I walked to the edge of my flat,
a peered around the slightly warm,
sweetish aroma
of two lives that lived within.

Then bored,
turned to stare at the sky.

Dark, dark like brooding.
no trace of the blues,
no the swirls of the winds,
just a vacant yawn between two
building with the same people
sleeping the same dreams.

One cloud hung,
hanging by an invisible tread,
lit by the Ramzaan moon.
Proud of the silver fringe.

A whisper passed my ear,
and I turned to look from where.
Nothing!

And my cloud in the Ramzaan moon
vanished into the space.

Shaking my head,
shaking itself to sleep.
I walked onto the bed
and threw the sodden sheets,
and woke up again to the shrill
Alarm ringing in the ear.

And the begining of another day.

FIFTY: When sky meets sea

Overcast skies and dim, dull light,
wet winds, the sky hanging low,
grey, sorrow of parting,
turning to joy,
in colours of union
So very anxious to merge with the sea.

The sea too is grey, grim awaiting the sky,
no longer placid blue, rich green or silver.
The calm of long months,
and turbulence beneath the tranquil,
Emptying all at once,
foaming away the lonely days.

Surging waves and dancing rain,
the sky pouring out emotions,
the joy of having met, evident.

Haunting and wondrous picture,
foggy with the clouds
Frightful joy and beautiful pain
attempting to overcome every strain.

There is water everywhere,
in the sea, the air.
Drama, the intense outburst of love,
when the sky meets the sea.

The onlooking rocks are not spared
- drenched to fit into the picture,
rain, sea, sky, water in different forms,
Merging at a distance,
proving.
The sky and the sea are one.

FORTY NINE: Goddess of rain

Woman of winds,
In the arms of a cloud
Dreams of a summer
Gone dull without fire.
A hundred hills scattered around,
Fortresses, grass and weathered trees
Patiently waiting for a streak of the sun
To turn the mist into a caress of golden brown.

Silhouetted against a grey blue sky,
Breeze twisting dark casacades of lustrous hair
And a gossamer gently suspended beyond,
Sacred, scared to touch her lips,
To break the reverie in her eyes.

The dayts too short, nights too small.
A thousand years may pass by
Rains can come and go, entombed
Within the dimension of time
To capture her images in my words.

One goddess of rain, woman of winds,
Stood in the arms of a cloud,
Watching at a distance the lifting veil
Of a newly wed bride.

FIFTY: When sky meets sea

Overcast skies and dim, dull light,
wet winds, the sky hanging low,
grey, sorrow of parting,
turning to joy,
in colours of union
So very anxious to merge with the sea.

The sea too is grey, grim awaiting the sky,
no longer placid blue, rich green or silver.
The calm of long months,
and turbulence beneath the tranquil,
Emptying all at once,
foaming away the lonely days.

Surging waves and dancing rain,
the sky pouring out emotions,
the joy of having met, evident.

Haunting and wondrous picture,
foggy with the clouds
Frightful joy and beautiful pain
attempting to overcome every strain.

There is water everywhere,
in the sea, the air.
Drama, the intense outburst of love,
when the sky meets the sea.

The onlooking rocks are not spared
- drenched to fit into the picture,
rain, sea, sky, water in different forms,
Merging at a distance,
proving.
The sky and the sea are one.