Sunday, December 31, 2006

Singer

In your voice you hide
a thousand moments of ecstasy
another thousand tears,
I sail, as on the ocean, on its crests and troughs.
Sweet poison, my wine, I’m drunk on it.
Your voice is what I want to clothe my soul with.

Partaking of Flesh and Blood

"Open your mouth just right
Not so much, boy (to my right)
that mouth of yours is a gaping cavern
you are not to swallow an ostrich egg whole
smaller, daintier, softer,
with respect and faith and worship and praise
tongue flat and touching the rim of your lips
open your mouth
for you are to receive His flesh. "

Oh Boy! Is that it really?
“I don’t like the taste of blood”
a small, teary voice pipes up
and is shut up pronto by a stern glare
"Stop talking nonsense, boy", she says
"It is not really flesh
Have you forgotten all that I taught you
Now pray for forgiveness and say your prayers. "

I volunteer to lead the stupid boy
Through the path of light I walk every day
I, the smart one, with rock-like faith
on which I built my very small shrine.
Boy seems to get it, at last
I sigh and smile
My patient, little, grown up smile
And she smiles back at me
Approval jumps at me from her round face.

Then she picks up from where she left off
"Now do be careful, do not chew
For if you do, it shall spring blood
from your small white teeth, no less
your mouth shall be bloody
and sinner you shall be".

And for all my faith I was born this skeptic
I had to see, I had to know
On the big day I took a very small bite
And caught myself just in time
Froze on the spot, expecting a river of blood
To come gushing out from my mouth.

Then I took a harder bite
And harder still, till I chewed it right
It tasted of lie and treachery
All that I built, all that I saw
I swallowed, my pride and faith and belief.

The Big Tree

Po eh tree
Come come now
Thump thump along
Secret corridors
Like a small small ball
Bouncing along
Bounce bounce
And print print
A memory, a voice, colour, love, smell
Po eh tree, come come now
Come, don’t tease.

Rain

I hear the rain, falling gently on the roof
I can picture the droplets gathering and flowing
Through the grooves of the corrugated sheet.
My house (home house home house yes)
With its tiled, tapered roof, had a metal sluice
Of sorts, to collect rain water.
When it rained, we stood beneath it
And caught the first faint trickle of water
On our heads, each shoving and pushing the other.
And when it turned a gushing torrent, I’d stand there still
Even as others left. Seems as if I grew up in the rain.
Rain that fell on my head
Rain that left leaves and debris from the roof, on my head
Rain that turned pure later, distilled and clear
And yet failed to wash me of my sins.

Time

Time will endlessly churn and create newer
images that my eyes shall capture.
Mostly to relegate to archives, a mouldy volume
on which sickly flowers of ruin bloom.
Yet, some memories shall carry your smell, each frame
coated with the savage note of your perfume.

Time pauses briefly – tantalizing - and then moves
tick tock tick tock to the inevitable, it disapproves
of my coward’s tears and feigns heartless indifference
to this terror that clasps my soul. An immense
wheel of cold fear rolls over me, its scorching tracks
leave white flames to dance on my skin. It melts like wax.

Time has cheated us: the inert, ponderous time
soon shall send a black tinkle to our ears, sweet chime
that will lead us to our graves. Would it allow us
then, the simple right to mourn each other’s loss?
Or would I, would we be cursed with a sudden erasure
of all memories: your smell, your eyes, your touch, your love, your …..

Time. The very same Time that guided my feet
to where you were, that let us meet
a hundred thousand minutes too late.
Now, I sit here cursing a black fate
that spills shadows onto all paths between us.
In Time’s endless mirth, we are desecrated thus.

SMS


There are times when my eyes pick out your name
from everywhere I look. And it’s the same
letters I find in magazines and my email,
newspapers and paperbacks. You are in every detail.
Words on paper become mere anagrams of your name
and all day long, all I do is unscramble them.

Then movies and soaps and even the soccer game
seem to be full of lucky sods who share your name.
Eighty five channels the blessed cable has;
but from all of them - news, song videos, lifestyle shows,
heck, even from the scrolling credits that I see
your name manages to leap at me.

And then it burns blinding white behind my closed eyelids
And blooms around me like a thousand sweet orchids
It runs through my veins ice cold, yet warms my skin
In an insane longing for you, the world tumbles into a spin
And when my soul reverberates with the chanting of the selfsame
reason of my madness, that is when I SMS your name.

Greed

I want you to think I have the sweetest voice, so you can hear soulful melodies in the crappy tunes I hum.

I want you to think I am the most amazing dancer, so you can watch me with starlit eyes, as I tread on your toes with my two left feet.

I want you to think I am your angel in disguise, so you can think my goof ups are just Testing Tasks that I set for you.

I want you to think I am the most beautiful woman, so when we watch the making of Pirelli calendar on FTV, your eyes still scan my face obsessively as we comment and talk.

I want you to think I am most independent, courageous and the bravest, so you wouldn’t run away scared, when I cry tears of obsessive jealousy and possessiveness.

I want you to love me, love me truly and completely, so when I fearfully give you wings to fly, when I let you go, you should still want to come back to me.

I want you to feel for me all that I feel for you.

Saturday, December 30, 2006

Payback Reruns

Today was the day to spring-clean and sweep.
While clearing out all the clutter and trash,
I found a few treasures too costly to keep.

Found a rime in which I sound very brash;
I’d dismissed your charm as having no clout;
your secret smile and dark curls - all hogwash.

You were a treat that I could do without .
A luxury, not a necessity --
I had it all under control, no doubt.

Now that it’s payback time you punish me.
The sound of your laughter and smell of your hair
do reruns in my head like a stuck CD.

Your secret smile, dark curls, eyes that watch me…
Your secret smile, dark curls, eyes that watch me…
Your secret smile, dark curls, eyes that watch me…

Friday, December 29, 2006

(5)

Your hands that touch music, they touch me too
Your love is like a soothing symphony -
with unreserved abundance, a gift so true.
Just a touch on the hem of your robe heals me.

Christmas Wish

I feel compelled now to write of Christmas
Most folks I know are composing verses.
Some rhymes are about the birth of the child,
Others but mere wishes for kin compiled.
Most are tagged with a greeting for New Year
Time saving and smart, this hand me down Yule cheer.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Ownership

A pearl lay glittering on the beach
Its smooth white bulging body
Held a pale milky smile
The pearl beckoned and I
Never one to resist wild calls
Knelt by its polished all-over belly.
Fancy got the better of me
I reached out and held it in my palm
When out from the sea a hundred mermaids
Leapt, fish-tails flailing, siren wails filling
the evening.
Their caterwauls trailed brightly
from my bleeding eardrums.
The pearl belongs to them apparently.
‘tis their plaything, ‘tis their own
I being no mermaid, I walked off.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Make Haste, O Heart

Make haste, O Heart, O Mind, now bid good bye,
to all that we foolishly thought our own.
My life, in a flash, is passing me by

Foolish Heart, you were reckless, you were sly,
you sneaked him in. Don’t cry now, turn to stone.
Make haste, O Heart, O Mind, now bid goodbye

Free me from clammy shadows, I must fly
higher than an eagle has ever flown.
My life, in a flash, is passing me by

Empty vaults, with treasures never piled high --
Hollowed out heart, alone, always alone.
Make haste, O Heart, O Mind, now bid goodbye

How long must I hear you wistfully sigh
greedy heart, for things you never could own
My life, in a flash, is passing me by

Try and find some meaning - the end draws nigh
Knowing it’s futile, yet, for sins atone.
Make haste, O Heart, O Mind, now bid good bye
My life, in a flash, is passing me by.