With good part of the moon eaten
By a shadow of our earth mother,

We are one up on good old moon
Who mocked our stomach excess

When we looked down at our feet .
We click a broken face in the night

And pickle it in disc for a revenge.
But we are abolishing our shadow

As we look down at our feet below
And now we espy in the east of sky

Stretchmarks we observe at night
On our mother’s child soft tummy,

And we see him back all of piece
Grinning behind  waving coconut.



Intensity is flimsy surrender to night
And dreams, airy things opening up

To your body, to existence in doubt.
It is gray bats cross-flying on a roof

Before rain has made mossy maps
And eagles low- fly like paper kites

Out in a blank sky well before time
As early breeze fails to flutter color.

Touch body to make sure it is there.
Smell a dew like you would a snake

In bush by a movement you sensed.
Feel the jerk in the bird’s puny body

As sudden eyes fall on its existence.
Intensity is bird’s acknowledgement

Of an existence, of your being there,
A re-assertion of its own existence.

Lizard in God’s room

Our eyes met in God’s little room,
Full of tenderness of lonely night-

The lizard was looking for his food
That would not look him in his eye.

Insects made God’s wilted flowers
Their homes, flowers still fragrant

In their deaths, deaths that smelt
As pure temporary events in time.

Insects might have met him in eye,
If there were time before deaths.

So they looked   God’s capital eye
As we all do when our eyes close.

The long-legged beauty

A pill walking on lonely darkness,
It is long-legged beauty on fence

At the centre of thinking in itself.
The creature is a cultured beauty

Walking on a unhurried mission.
It has to spit longest fine thread

To spin gossamer silk of dreams.
After when there are rain pearls

By sun quick to weeping leaves,
The spit turns web to catch world

So the world is caught helplessly.
Now where is walking brown pill

And where are its long fine legs
Mixed up in heaps of dry leaves?

The pill is lost in a bird stomach
Before very dream is completed.

Bridges to vastness

The little pill held its real time
With pearls in a morning sun

And filaments after filaments,
Made bridges to its vastness,

Noiseless as in a promontory
Patient as the poet marked it.

Only to find pearl maker rain
Felt heavy upon its gossamer

And pill has to make bridges
All over again to its vastness.

(Reading Walt Whitman’s poem “A Noiseless Patient Spider”)

Grass notes

On the morning of bedewed grass
My bare walk hardly leaves notes,

Only bird notes, from park trees.
The grass cowers in a wet silence,

But raises heads once in a while.
Its wetness tingles an underfoot.

A painful thorn peeps sometimes
From shadows hid in self-respect.

A noisy nose on the green bench
Dumps a breath of fresh dirty air

But takes much more of green air.
A broken lawn-mower lies listless

Throwing up its hands in despair
Powerless to cut its pride to size.

Cold feet barely manage to sink
In its bleary top submissiveness

Moving away in numb pantlegs
Before park sprinkler gets them.