How insane is that to say

I am going to commit suicide

just because I read the last poem of Maya?

and Im no longer nervous

like lovers inside the bus

And i have never sold myself to a god or church

I'm alone and busy finding myself alone

O Poets of my times!

Who told you

These mountains dont sing

They sing in pebbles, my kind of fables

of being loved and used and thrown

Clear you ears, Poets!

they are filled with voices of fearness.

Let me mourn for a while

The cat has stopped drinking my milk

The dog has gone mad and never gonna bark at me

Let me mourn till the morning comes

and welcome me to my bed

Long ago a mosquito kissed at my eyes

whispering “im taking away your sleep from your eyes”

since then i have been awake and hungry

and every where i look around

I see unhappy people

some are aiming through a broken lens of telescope

some are listening to humanity through the broken stethoscopes

Unhappy people, they make me unhappy

Unhappy Artists, they make me grow my moustache

Unhappy singers, they make me sick

Unhappy lovers, They make me see filling forms

Little Angel

The dawn breaks with the music of Pena
and the voice follows haunting the valley
"an ode to our rich culture and tradition"
and the corrupt sky cries its tears upon my tin roof
but who can stop the sun rising

And I wonder
what that little angel must be doing
she must be sleeping?
Has she chaged her torn clothes?
did they give her dinner?
Do they love her enough
not to make me love her?
I don't know

But let this rain be the tears
that she will shed in future

Come Back Haikhohat Samte

The bamboo shoots were sprouting
Oh! But the July moon died
In the cloud of gun smoke
The rifles getting readied to bang more
To tear the innocence apart
And there you came alone
Passing through different colors of their flags
Passing from Burma border into India
To find the remnants of your home
Where once you collected firewood

Now there you are collecting memories
To remember you had a home
With cattle and poultry
To listen to your evening songs
Now you breathe gun powder
And fumes from the ashes of your burnt house
Now a bullet hit your spine
Leaving you paralyzed on the hospital bed.

Oh! The day I heard about you, Haikhohat Samte
They told me you died three years back
But I’m not a newspaper to forget you and your story
Let me remember you whole of my life
Let me smell the stink till I see
Their bullets melting in your father’s tears.
And let this poem be a bullet to rip this rotten land apart.

Come back! Haikhohat Samte
Where is the plastic pipe that fitted to your urinary tract
Let’s fit it to this land
Stream them away like larva from a volcano
Where is the blanket that covers you
And the foul smell of your half dead body?
Let’s cover this land with the blanket
And upon it we will grow a new land for you

Ode to Moreh candle

my poetry shines at night through your flame
inside the mosquito net
you dont even care what color it wears
like you are being there as a prostitute.

when the crimson sky fades
with revolution in black market
you emerge out of bamboo shoots and Ngafak
from every small keithels scented with Uhmorock

Mother cooks in your light
Father search for his alcohol scented sons
in your light
from the thatch roof of small huts in hill
you shine on against the darkness of sky

I am gonna burn another you
to see how long this dark night is
is it longer than my poetry of petrol blues?
is it shorter than my song of dream?

Shine on! teach them to burn their weakness
like you burn your wicks showing the light in you

Home Coming

When no seeds
answer to the drought
I will be the cloud
above Nongmaiching
from my foot steps
paddy fields will rise
the rodents will drown
in my sweat of dance.

Im coming home
to be the monsoon
Open your thirsty mouth
Let the scars of hunger
in your skin be washed
Let the hills cup me
around the holes of dying pine trees
Let the sky thunder
to quieten your selfish desire
Let the rainbow emerge
to fold the colour of the past, forever

I'm coming home
get the empty vessels and fields cleaned
Im coming home to spread myself
at Tidim road watching the green pastures
that pave from the hills that kiss the sky

excuse me!
Im coming home
leave my way unblocked

let me roll like the way i want
I was born yesterday
i don't give a fuck about day before yesterday
all i care is about rain
and my friends
that are starving

let me hold your hands
there is not a handful of sand
in my hand to show you fear
all i have is an empty wide open arms

Play the Music Loud

Play the music loud
who cares whether they are loading guns
or filling their sacks with golds
roll your smoking paper my freinds
and light it with flames and smokes
there is fire everywhere
dont worry for matchsticks in the land of torch

Play the music loud
No one wants to hear ur scream of cold turkey
Let;s put a curtain here and make it invisible
No one wants to see you banging the doors
No one wants to help you put the ladder on your bed

Play the music loud
Your story is complicated and they hate it
they have no solution for your future
there is no such thing as being a good son

All you have is your generation
squatting by the roadside
fixing their eyes in the lost air of innocence
searching for something to replace their anger

All u have is your generation
smacking their own madness
suffocating in their own vomit

Play the music loud
and look at the windshields of the army trucks

and Hallucinate what you deserve
Once a while you need to be served

Hallucinate what you are not
Once a while you need to be someone else

Hallucinate to be the flag in air
Once a while you need to feel the freedom

Hallucinate to be the names on the tombstones
once a while you need to be a hero

Play the music loud
Scream against this society

Spit at the holes of their guns
throw your fist in the air
Clean yourselves with their memorandums
blow off your nose against their propagandas

Play the music loud
Worry not for those actors and liars and killers.
For all the things they have done
they will be gone
Leaving their homes soak in their own blood
They will be flown like rain
leaving their homes wet

Play the music Loud
Dance inside your canvas shoes
leave the leather shoes for the ones who sing fake blues
You dont need their injection
to look handsome

You don't need their guns
just to say you are lonesome
You dont want to be a good son
for they will demand a ransom
You belong to this generation
to not make a bow at the dead sons
but to cry out loud your existence
from your heart with bloodfull of veins

Play the music loud
don't bother by the clowns in the circus
the stuntmen in suits are jumping
from chair to chair

Play your music loud
The music from the speakers of Television is a lie
the music in the big theater is a fraud
the music in the music stores are for them
who don't have a mouth
The music they call classical will never speak for you
Your mouth is the best speaker for you
Sing with your tongue
don't just hum!
Lick the society's cunt
taste it! face it! chase it!

Play the music Loud
there is no charm in such silence
in such confused face like yours
dont bother by the fights
They are fighting for lands
when they need a space of one square feet to stand
and a seven feet to become ashes
Let them grow the walls of brick
Now stupidity and insanity is part of humanity
Play the music loud
Play the music loud