no one
can ever hold you
as I do
-only I can measure
your fragility
can ever hold you
as I do
-only I can measure
your fragility
Kashmir tanka
soldier trucks
feel their way
through Kashmir fog -
his whistling a tune
turns into a chorus
feel their way
through Kashmir fog -
his whistling a tune
turns into a chorus
Love Tanka
1.
spend some time
in the quiet
of a full moon...
every moment biting away
words unspoken
2.
how many hours
have you lived
in your life...
death will be on its prowl
once the moon sets
spend some time
in the quiet
of a full moon...
every moment biting away
words unspoken
2.
how many hours
have you lived
in your life...
death will be on its prowl
once the moon sets
3 Tanka
turning gray
with the trickle of years
a chameleon
hiding amidst the green
of childhood trees
*
i still see you
in moonlit dreams
you're a flower
blooming
in your absence
*
it rained a lot
yet it looks like it'll rain
a lot more...
you simply smile,
smile away
with the trickle of years
a chameleon
hiding amidst the green
of childhood trees
*
i still see you
in moonlit dreams
you're a flower
blooming
in your absence
*
it rained a lot
yet it looks like it'll rain
a lot more...
you simply smile,
smile away
Hope
let a chorus be born
turning into a torrent
of anguish -
streets are getting flooded
with rare resolve
turning into a torrent
of anguish -
streets are getting flooded
with rare resolve
New Year Tanka
this token of love
not yet sullied
by earthly sin-
with great care i hold out
my little dream, just born
not yet sullied
by earthly sin-
with great care i hold out
my little dream, just born
Tanka
1.
i move on
from sadness to sadness
with my dream:
a window will open
to a pear tree in flowers
2.
who can tame
the beast that lives in man--
a monk
lovingly pats the head
of a temple tiger
[Note-Wat Pa Luangta Bua is a monastery about 200 kilometers west of Bangkok, and here,a daily ritual is observed -- Buddhist monks take their 3-5 year old tigers out on a leash for a walk through the bordering region of Burma. They dote upon their tigers, feed them and celebrate them as their most sacred animal. ]
Haiku
1)
supermoon
can we ever be
more closer
2)
lozenge sun
melting into water
her laments
3)
diary page
a butterfly
in November
4)
old cotton tree
shivering in winter
fifteen wasted years
Three Haiku & One tanka
scent of roses
i float back
to my youth
*
exhibition-
the art of exchanging
glances
*
love
a chirpy sparrow
once it enters
it refuses
to exit
*
college re-union
the vineyard buzzing
with bees
*
Winter Tanka
1)
if you need
to live insatiably
you'll need thorns
not leaves, for thorns
have no fear of winter
2)
i see stars
being born from your tears
and wonder how
your guarded grief would steer
our young tomorrow
3)
the glint
in the eyes
of a squirrel--
a bright new day
for the blessed ones
4)
a chorus
of whispers
still haunts--
time never moves
for the saxophone man
if you need
to live insatiably
you'll need thorns
not leaves, for thorns
have no fear of winter
2)
i see stars
being born from your tears
and wonder how
your guarded grief would steer
our young tomorrow
3)
the glint
in the eyes
of a squirrel--
a bright new day
for the blessed ones
4)
a chorus
of whispers
still haunts--
time never moves
for the saxophone man
Would you believe
if i say i can see buds bursting into dreams
and in one blue dream you are gliding through
cloud-ridden moonlight, and when i call
you tell me this is no time for words, then another
bud bursts into a summer sun and i find you
lost in a quiet haze sipping a melon sherbet
i ask you if you have noticed the archaic
fountain where gold-winged butterflies make
their nest and you quip there is hardly a reason
to look for relics as all winged marvels have gone
where falling cherry petals make a blizzard
if i say, since then the dreams have stopped
busting out, since then life has been a foggy path
without end, only a here-and-there glimmer of sun
which i mis-read as golden butterflies, believing my
poem to be the soliloquy of a yearning alchemist
neither is it the sadness of a commonplace poet
but rather a thirsty quest for togetherness
and in one blue dream you are gliding through
cloud-ridden moonlight, and when i call
you tell me this is no time for words, then another
bud bursts into a summer sun and i find you
lost in a quiet haze sipping a melon sherbet
i ask you if you have noticed the archaic
fountain where gold-winged butterflies make
their nest and you quip there is hardly a reason
to look for relics as all winged marvels have gone
where falling cherry petals make a blizzard
if i say, since then the dreams have stopped
busting out, since then life has been a foggy path
without end, only a here-and-there glimmer of sun
which i mis-read as golden butterflies, believing my
poem to be the soliloquy of a yearning alchemist
neither is it the sadness of a commonplace poet
but rather a thirsty quest for togetherness
For Prince
You said there is blood in the sky
was that a premonition you said
you knew when it'll rain purple blue
when someone will take you out
from your hide that is made of rainbow
So when the angel came and beckoned
you in the purple rain you forgot about
the song on your lips and looked long
at me were there some words hidden
With meek steps you left as the worst storm
rattled my doors putting off candles because
the blood in the sky had to fall because god
had no reason to heed the call of the million
doves who cried till life went out off a billion
songs Yet its still raining still your voice hasn't
stopped echoing from mountain walls because
an angel called you amidst the purple rain
[ In memory of Prince Rogers Nelson (1958 - 2016)]
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