showcase

sitting in her glass cage
she watches them clap
she has known some of them
that blotted face
is the knight who surrendered last week
the one on the left
is the restless hangman of time
those two in the right
are the fools who thought they were invisible
somewhere in between
stands a woman who always brought gifts
there again, they come
the bunch of clowns
then she sees them both
standing apart
one is the keeper of the ballot box
and the other holds a magic eraser
they have just joined you see

this is glass not air
this cuts to test, doesnt spare
to touch her skin they need to break this wall
its the test of a thousand births to recall

they have come to see her dance today
to raise her
to slaughter her then
the hangman tightens the noose
the fools are out with their knives
the colourless face is blotting in acid
the clowns are slowly unmasking
woman there has only prayers
and them standing apart are helpless now

only her eyes twinkled before she fell once more.

foriegn lands

one september shall remember her
when the tin birds scratched a trail
they all saw her through the fog
and smiled for she trembled unbared
as phone booths turned to violin players
and children turned to paper cut outs
they followed her everywhere
and beside the graveyard of time and times
they made her loose her way

that september she came back to her love
of myriad faces
that never saw her.

Innocent

men are taught to apologize for their weakness, women for their strengths.

There,
she stands before you naked.
You know her skin is white.
Above her there shines a light,
that makes her look so red
and thats why you hate her.

You can see her eyes are crystal
hence you see through them,
the black wall behind her,
and some foggy landscape beyond.
You know her flesh is pure,
and thats why you hate her.

You can see her feet are blood soaked.
She killed the her in them,
and still she stands unbent.
You know that she's the hero,
and thats why you hate her.

There
she is bared again.
The crystals have begun to melt.
She looks around for her again,
and you know that you have found her,
you have more reasons to love her
and thats why you hate her.

painted...

hatched lines on a canvas 'Kolkata'
hides nostalgia under flowery color heads
sqeals of laughter as the wheels crush
and drops of diamond unseen by the 'rush'

Only waste

Wasted night
for a wasted heart
which wasted a life
then rose to a wasted day
and was born again

Bagful of waste
looks back at wasted time
and brings here wasteful fear
to a new born waste

Where again

Burnt sand cries for a storm
that buries memories of a night
and wakes to the light of the only dawn
in which children make the song.

Green grass cries all night
and lies to the sun in a breath
then dies below the feet of a child
who cries for a broken myth.

Blue sky cries for a rainbow
that is stuck midway a dream
and fights memories through and through
that cries in the seventh beam .

Life cries for living a life
and life is lost somewhere
searching for the hands with warmth
that cold flesh has lost nowhere.

Unfinished unedited...poem.......

Clasped by the lights of my dream
when i walk towards a shore
I see not life, but stolen hours
that cry on broken bones

Kissed by the salts of my ocean
that drown the screams of a moment
I kill the foetus of a dream
that grows in the womb of a hope

Left on the island of the deaf
as i gather the proof of sound
I see the roots of my end
covering the skies unbound

Living through my sins i wake
the sin of trying to answer
i choose to walk the maze of questions
that meet every life hereafter

i watch myself

a prayer unheard
a miracle unused
a time lost
and my story unfinished


some blushing moments
some silly games
some sand and shells
and my memories blurred

a mirror bared
a rosary broken
a flute unhappy
and my life begins

a blotted sketch
a letter unread
a photograph scratched
and my love undone

a silver strand
a darker age
a bronzed skin
and my time is still

as i watch myself

Prayer

Living by her own
she tires
on the ground that scribbles her name
she clears the fog to see time again,
every time
before she turns insane
she wonders why the trees look grey
and her hair
silver as the river waves
she walks across the desert of dreams
to reach
where the night falls?
she bares her cloak of childhood stories
and holds the dark to cover her sins
from another life
she hears them scream
and lets this life pass like a dream
and as she walks along this name
next life promise her
her skin shall bear no more shame
and i shall, only, live.

Miracle

lucky boy holds a torn photograph,
a picture of nothing he says
A secret that showed in red light,
made love with him.

The green door creaked as he walked past
the picture trembled in wet hands
A few footsteps that knew it all,
and didnt let them fall.

The rays of sun when smiled to scorch,
he tore the shame
and when everything was jealous and green,
he made love again.