he did not say yes
or no, but left with
the quiet breeze
she’s pleading with the rain
to get a reply
fungi clustered
at the base of a tree trunk
could there be
a tinge of poison
rooted in her words
Double Tanka
he did not say yes
or no, but left with
the quiet breeze
she’s pleading with the rain
to get a reply
fungi clustered
at the base of a tree trunk
could there be
a tinge of poison
rooted in her words
Still the Greenhorn
You know it bleeds
to brood upon my own verses
How many times can a man suffer
from such fanatic spells of creativity
How can he possibly pass on
the products of his
all possible word-scrambling sessions
and merrily go on teasing the hapless reader
you in this case
Yet it bleeds
And it grieves me to ask you a favour
to place your arms around me
for a journey
One weeny beggar towing his wishes
to the bow of his violin
If we cannot find him
we might bump into the den
of a sycophant
a parasite living on its yesterdays
We may even chance to meet
a sweating Santa in summer
Or we may travel anywhere
with the puff of a weed
It is still bleeding my friend
and I do not know
whether my writing possesses
the fibrinogen to clog the flow
So yet again it is this hackneyed plead
of a self-obsessed narcissus
who needs you badly
in the hour of his crisis
in his empty mirror
When I lose all my rhymes...
On a day when clouds stream in
from the east
on a kind of a day when your face resembles
a sober chameleon
A working day in the countryside
with millipedes out to feed
hungry mouths
When an ordered line of ducks
cross the road nhurriedly
A thousand minds oblivious of a civilisation
parading with a dutiful resolve
to a built-in tempo
past the headstones
of a cemetery
Past the buried victims of a lonely war
won or lost by none
I pause to wonder
where I'm heading
from the east
on a kind of a day when your face resembles
a sober chameleon
A working day in the countryside
with millipedes out to feed
hungry mouths
When an ordered line of ducks
cross the road nhurriedly
A thousand minds oblivious of a civilisation
parading with a dutiful resolve
to a built-in tempo
past the headstones
of a cemetery
Past the buried victims of a lonely war
won or lost by none
I pause to wonder
where I'm heading
Haiku
1.
protest march--
shorter shadows follow
the tall one
protest march--
shorter shadows follow
the tall one
2.
cottonwood seeds drift--
the birth anniversary
of my late father
Rural Haiku
the road
winding into fog
cattle sounds
sun above
grass tips; a rooster
cocking its head
tribal dance—
the scent of earth
after a shower
holding blossoms
close to her heart
her coy smile
playground
the glint in the eye
of a squirrel
distant flute
a sudden breeze
ruffles in
a plop
off the wooden bridge
ripples
a swan takes off
the slow run
of the evening train
Starry Night
Inspired by Vincent Van Gogh’s “Starry Night”
#1.
starlight
the cathedral of
a sleeping village
---a lone cypress
---prays with me
#2.
the tumult
in the night sky
haunts me
wind carries the scent
from another world
#1.
starlight
the cathedral of
a sleeping village
---a lone cypress
---prays with me
#2.
the tumult
in the night sky
haunts me
wind carries the scent
from another world
Haiku
rain
filling up potholes
the ghost town
glittering dew--
the frog prince
croaks loud
a rainbow
outside the window
our song
Melancholy rain
in melancholy rain
i think of you
the trees, in their sullen
subordination, make me recall
my stooping low to your
whirlwind whims
the patter on my roof
fades the words you had gifted
i hear vehemence in the voice
of a trapped bluejay
i dwell in my doldrums
as the drizzle fizzles out
and a cloud-gate tempts me
to escape this tangle of yours
I saunter along a path with wafts of wind
that brings the scent
of nascent earth
until the day frees itself
like enlivened birds
i think of you
the trees, in their sullen
subordination, make me recall
my stooping low to your
whirlwind whims
the patter on my roof
fades the words you had gifted
i hear vehemence in the voice
of a trapped bluejay
i dwell in my doldrums
as the drizzle fizzles out
and a cloud-gate tempts me
to escape this tangle of yours
I saunter along a path with wafts of wind
that brings the scent
of nascent earth
until the day frees itself
like enlivened birds
Tanka
Tanka
#1)
a room
scented
with
Christmas dinner--
hard to find
any trace of
contempt
in your smile
#2)
the diver
continues to
hunt
the wrecked ship
---a swarm of
silver fishes
---follow his
trail
#3)
puffy clouds
crowning blue
mountains
makes me
recall
the yogurt on
your nose
the day it
rained wild
#4)
the lady
in her red
kimono
eyes his
path—
rugged steps
leading to
a stone built
monastery
#5)
sixteen
bearers
carrying a
bride
in a
palanquin--
red sorghum
grasses
waving in
gentle wind
#6)
two cottages
in the
moonlight
one empty
with ruin
the other full
of your
memories
#7)
she stands
here
arms akimbo watching
leaves fall—
the little
red rooster
calls it a
day
Haiku
1.
had I been...
wind swirls in
a field
of growing
crops
2.
between
the drifting
shadows
a chameleon
3.
your voice
a song
sparrow
in the
morning
4.
autumn again
a mockingbird
on windowsill
It is May
it is May
the hungry eyes of a ragamuffin
inspects an afternoon
cobblestones gets dappled
with loosened red petals
sky empty as the paleness
of your lips in the photo
tainted with a hue of forgiveness
looking out the window
perhaps at the tree losing florets
your hair disheveled
by the warm hand of summer
i saunter along a path
in the iciness of
a bygone winter
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