Insane

It all started with the hush hush opening
of a bloom while i was doing a flip-flop-flip
on whether to alight the next flight of stairs
that could reach you

Yet all you did was pour acid on the buds
and hearing your grumble that 'love can not kill
twice' was like being swept off my feet

by an invisible Tsunami, riding on the fizz
of fantasia; it was like being bombarded with
fifteen thousand watts of pulsating sound

and all the while watching you blandly, your
face bloated with summer green, your shoulders
draped with blues, and your hair
brushed with a tinge of blood

You sipped your Martini with the calm
of a mellowed autumn, and said, "I wish
we could drop the tittle-tattle on love and sex,
they just kill me!"

Hypoxia

Amidst the fog
rising above the knoll of memory
the call of a warbler often
brings back the summer when

all that started: my fumble with words,
gasps of breath, burning beneath the shirt collar
and your cruel laughs; i believe it was clearly
a case of scarce supply of oxygen to my soul,

When you snapped the lifeline
of further approach, the roller coaster ride
slipped off its rails, and i was flung into the air,
i was detained somewhere between a virtual tunnel

and real vacuum, till i became conscious
of your vanishing into the mundane; all that remained
was a plunge into existence without the diatomic gas,
the essential pomposity of love.

New Year Tanka

#1

turning prayer wheels
on the last day
of the year

a child's song
echoes from the mountains



#2

the scientist sighs
at the sight of lifeless
lab animals--
which race can embrace
the gift of the Fuhrer?



#3

within the folds
of a paper rose
i keep tracing
the bends and alleys
of our talk



#4

can death
add one star
to the night -
mom's wooden owl
stares blankly



#5

throwing pebbles
into the pond--
ripples grow
within waning ripples
of memory



#6

i may hold
one full moon
between my fingers
but not the dreams
that slip beyond my view



#7

a mild rain
as night ends
your words
plopping into the muteness
of leaves



#8

you may burn
a hundred memories
i remain embalmed
in your self-seeking love
a helpless duck in an oil slick



#9

the more
we drift apart
i feel the sea wind
gathering
the rustiness of memories



#10

'sorry
for coming late'
echoes
a mockingbird
exploring the broken nest



#11

your nearness
as with a spring blaze
makes me dizzy--
even with a heat-suit
i fear the lava



#12

sea
without a wave
floats the moon--
towed to my dream
I've been sailing for ages

I need a full shot of Ketamine

Now that the piano notes
have faded with our parting
I need to clutch on to my roots

hidden in yesterdays

Now that I can see myself
being out of my benign body
I'm passing through curtains of time

I perform a mime act
as if tugging at your heart-strings
trying to moor mundane memories

I see my remains and wonder

Now that I can keep myself afloat
with all that should never have happened
Yet all that happened between us

Why do I keep on muttering dreams
that cannot touch me anymore
Why am I so obstinate to bring back
all those 'you did Thaaat to Me'
back to the shore

Let me bathe in this cool air of twilight
Let me rerun all the actions motivations
hesitations and boiling altercations
that have brought me here
Now that the seasons have made a full circle
and the fog is slowly rising

The man near Marum Volcano

Wasn't he charmed by the spectacle of
flame waves
Wasn't he craving for a plunge
looking like a clown with his heat-suit on
near the crater of Marum volcano

I recall my disarray
alone with you in a fiery spring
and your disdain
the annoyance of an angry passion
watching the dilemma
of an unsure insect
But I was aware that a fireproof-suit
has its limits
And was worried of seasons
other than bloom time

So the man keeps speaking
of acid rain of molten rocks
and of ashes

What you need now

What you need now
is an eruption of life
through dead cells
of euphoria

Who doesn't need
a cloudburst to silence
the never-ending rhyme
of a waterfall's gurgle

recalling how penumbrae
have added to your woes

Why must people
run into you with their own
absurd contemplation

Who said you were
ever in love
Who said the lovers
shoved you aside as the tides
receded

You need to fling
this darn old carbon cycle
of thoughts

Have you seen
white flowers bloom
in the last hour of night

your nearness (Tanka)

your nearness
as with a spring blaze
makes me dizzy--
even with a heat-suit
i fear the lava

Haiku

dad and i--
fading sun and
a faint moon


mother and i
sharing our lunch
the leaf falls

Gaza, Hiroshima and...

1)
doctor at Al-Shifa:
'the scent of the just died
stays on...
blood cannot be washed
with the purest of tears'


2)

the soldier gifts
a toy gun
to a weeping kid
...ceasefire
on the Eid morning


3)

a woman's home
shattered
by the air-strike:
'can the heroes of war
invade the Heavens'


***************************


Hiroshima Day


a little girl prays
along with her granny--
Hiroshima Day

Thoughts on an Eid morning

He won't be hearing the rattle
of gunfire today
Men will gather for prayers
to thank the Lord
for giving a life
under an umbrella of blood-lit stars

Last night he saw the moon
sickle-shaped, its silvery edge
maybe not as cunning as a table-knife,
reminds him of previous festivals,
of the scent of pilaf, new dresses
and echoes of adaan

Echoes of early man call out to each other
There won't be any rattle of gunfire today
even the hands soaked with blood
will join in prayers

Satan at work - Tanka

Satan at work:
'I will never bow down
to Adam'-
the shrapnel
in a young boy's stomach



sun sets behind
bullet-ridden clouds
at Golgotha
a violin plays out
the agony of mankind




watching the trail
of a Grad missile...
was this the route
followed by the Star
of Bethlehem?

re-cycled Tanka

Tanka

alone
in a city
of unknowns
the poet finds
a new door, every hour


'this winter breeze
now scorches me
with hunger':
a lone sparrow
speaking to itself


he joined
a train of clouds:
'My avian heart,
how do i know
where the end of route is?'

Buddha Day Haiku

Buddha Day-
new grass growing
after the harvest

*

a monk chants his way
through the market--
smell of incense

*

prayer-wheels
which way
will the wind move

The dream of four nights

Your chesire-cat smile made the moonlight
a fire-well; I was diminished to ashes in which
you inscribed your name.

The following night you doused me,
we kissed till the rain stopped. You played
with sea-shells after the tide.

Third night I was facing a firing squad.
They all waited for your order which was never
to come. You cracked jokes with some, pulled
their cheeks, ruffled their hair
and forgave me.

On the last night the planet quivered,
a serious gorge cracked open between our hearts.
You smiled that benign smile of yours, and said
what can you do if the earth pulls you 
aside

Macondo

You can't see any of it today
those buildings made of clear glass
children running through their summer
in banana plantations
or ancient men waiting in a queue
for the want of a greener monsoon

You search the ruins like an ant
yet find no morsel of love
to feed you

Grave looking vultures perched atop
churches keep their vigil
memories cannot escape without being
gorged
the gypsies are a lost race
Spring wind sighs through the skeleton
of a wrecked ship

[ In memory of late Gabriel Garcia Marquez ]