Sorry Preety


My sweet freind!
Poetry comes to me
just like you came to me last night
out of darkness
of a strange city

but now Im stuck
i want to write you a poem
my fingers tried hard
but they are like a child's fingers
upon a Beethoven's piano

Sorry!
Preety!
This night is silly
it gves me nothng
just asking me to chat with you
telling you how the paranthas i had
were withered inside the pastic bowl
tell me how many eggs you had
did you stick out your tongue again
for the your friends or your lover?

Sorry
preety
Im so blank at the moment
just lets chat :)

Ode to my friend that comes smiling with the dawn


I left the city behind with my broken heart
with those empty whiskey bottles
with my bed with wrinkles from sleepless nights

Again here im, stranded in a sleepless night
in another big city with thoughts of life and death
suddenly she pops out of thin air
and say hello when i am so hollow
we chatter and chatter like morning birds on electric wires
and i stumble upon her sweet little photograph
with her tongue out and i say “you look beautiful”
and she says “dont flatter me ”
and we go on with the lady from south next to me
questioning to me like i was a prisoner of war
but who cares, the dawn is here we have day long ahead of us
we have a life ahead to chatter and swallow what life is

A RAY OF HOPE - A poem for me by Rosemary Moore (Thanks Rose!)

Hope in hopelessness
speak silently to me,
pour words into my heart
to help me understand,
what is the reason for
the behaviour of man.

Doom, doom
you scream at the moon,
counting the hours
until daylight returns,
as the one leaves,
the other one yearns.

The twisted and torn
and still the unborn
lie in wait, left in the
hands of fate,
who forgot to close
the latch on the gate,
and now its too late
and they cannot wait.

Money is the menace
when greed is the master,
when the two go hand-in-hand
it can only lead to a disaster.

Unbalanced and chaotic
the world is shifting on its axis
pay up, pay up
your sky-high taxes.

When lies are the weapon
words are the cure.
In the desert of time,
it seems like nothing grows.

Look at the cracks in the tar
where the grass pushes through,
aim higher for the sun
before the woods close on you.

Even as the last man is standing
and the last tree falls,
a ray of hope still covers the earth,
light in deep darkness
until its rebirth.

Embrace me Burma!

 
Burma, if you have a heart
Embrace me please
I have stopped looking at my own shoes
Now I look beyond these lofty mountains
I see nothing in them except a handful of useless dust
I stop looking towards west
To me it is all just a waste
I stop leaning on India
Delhi crushed me among its sky scrapers and dtc buses
Mumbai left me stranded in the railway tracks
Bangalore didn’t let me smoke at my own will
Kolkata is too much of mouth revolution.
And we have been the niggers of India;
Read Pacha and Samarendra.

Burma if you need a lover
That’s me
Embrace me
kiss me please
Let me spread my wings in your poppy field
Let me sail in your smallest river with all my songs
Let me cry out all the tear that I save in this punctured heart
Let me shit out what I have eaten
I have eaten what have not grown in my land
I ate hilsha from Barak River
I ate wheat that grows in Uttarpradesh
I slept on the mattress that was made in Delhi
I sang Guthrie and Pete Seeger
I  wear VIPs
I drank 8pm of Haryana at 8am in morning
i danced in the song of Indian Ocean
i climbed the Western Ghats with Iranians
I smoked the dry leaves of Manali
Still I was my own man standing alone
Singing “Ema Nangumbi Leite”
Now, I can’t praise my land with my poverty
Now I need a new land that gives food


Burma, Le me see your prison
And makes me feel I suffer less
Less than your outlaws and criminals
I was told you dump your criminals
In a Polang like chickens in Chingmeirong Bazaar
Burma, embrace me
Let me wear that bamboo hat
Like famers that farm everything
You will not regret to be my lover
No great poets write a line for your Tamu
And cheap sex inside your wooden cabin.
But I do, if you don’t believe me
Look at e-pao.net
You will find me whistling singing;
“Go fuck yourself with your AFSPA”
Along the Indo-Myanmar border.

Burma, Let me be a drug lord
Let me wear those golden chains
Let me measure the angles of Golden Triangle
Let me smack cocaine, let me smell you
Let me bleed out all this blood
That this heart churns breathing oxygen
That comes out from death and all these fake revolution.

Burma, Just give me a shelter
You are the closest to me.
I love no monks except the seven year old monk
I even hate U2’s  song on Aung Sang Su kyi
I don’t know what the freedom fighters do in your Jungles
I haven’t heard about a hero of guerrilla warfare
Who emerges from your jungle.
But I know what I can do with myself
If you provide me a shelter and a guitar
A blank page and a poppy flower.
Burma, just embrace me
You will find me very fine

Embrace me Burma!


Burma, if you have a heart
Embrace me please
I have stopped looking at my own shoes
Now I look beyond these lofty mountains
I see nothing in them except a handful of useless dust
I stop looking towards west
To me it is all just a waste
I stop leaning on India
Delhi crushed me among its sky scrapers and dtc buses
Mumbai left me stranded in the railway tracks
Bangalore didn’t let me smoke at my own will
Kolkata is too much of mouth revolution.
And we have been the niggers of India;
Read Pacha and Samarendra.

Burma if you need a lover
That’s me
Embrace me
kiss me please
Let me spread my wings in your poppy field
Let me sail in your smallest river with all my songs
Let me cry out all the tear that I save in this punctured heart
Let me shit out what I have eaten
I have eaten what have not grown in my land
I ate hilsha from Barak River
I ate wheat that grows in Uttarpradesh
I slept on the mattress that was made in Delhi
I sang Guthrie and Pete Seeger
I  wear VIPs
I drank 8pm of Haryana at 8am in morning
i danced in the song of Indian Ocean
i climbed the Western Ghats with Iranians
I smoked the dry leaves of Manali
Still I was my own man standing alone
Singing “Ema Nangumbi Leite”
Now, I can’t praise my land with my poverty
Now I need a new land that gives food


Burma, Le me see your prison
And makes me feel I suffer less
Less than your outlaws and criminals
I was told you dump your criminals
In a Polang like chickens in Chingmeirong Bazaar
Burma, embrace me
Let me wear that bamboo hat
Like famers that farm everything
You will not regret to be my lover
No great poets write a line for your Tamu
And cheap sex inside your wooden cabin.
But I do, if you don’t believe me
Look at e-pao.net
You will find me whistling singing;
“Go fuck yourself with your AFSPA”
Along the Indo-Myanmar border.

Burma, Let me be a drug lord
Let me wear those golden chains
Let me measure the angles of Golden Triangle
Let me smack cocaine, let me smell you
Let me bleed out all this blood
That this heart churns breathing oxygen
That comes out from death and all these fake revolution.

Burma, Just give me a shelter
You are the closest to me.
I love no monks except the seven year old monk
I even hate U2’s  song on Aung Sang Su kyi
I don’t know what the freedom fighters do in your Jungles
I haven’t heard about a hero of guerrilla warfare
Who emerges from your jungle.
But I know what I can do with myself
If you provide me a shelter and a guitar
A blank page and a poppy flower.
Burma, just embrace me
You will find me very fine








--
Dept. of Physics
Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi 110014, INDIA

ode to yongchak

It is already february
and no more cold in the capital
and you arrived here
...wearing an overcoat
or is that a bullet proof jacket?
but there are not stray bullets in the capital
only rapist
and they wont know how to rape you
as they lack taste of good things in life

Blink on an eye


Evening fades under my door
I can see from my bed
night comes just like the husband
with the empty tiffin with no new stories
i blink my eyes
the clock strikes 4am
and i stand naked at my balcony
lighting a smoke
and then a smoke again
the last stick lights the sky
and the sun rises
as i fall back to my bed
with Dharma Bums

November, December, January
flew away with few poems
some written some unwritten