Sunday, July 25, 2010

Morning has come ©

Monday, July 19, 2010

When I say my wall... ©


Nameless you come
and leave
Our territories
not of blood
but nameless
and empty
another journey ©

Monday, July 12, 2010

Speaking in stone

My vocabulary
of mute lamentations
of lost speech
bend to pick
stones, sharp as life
against the conundrum
I wish to speak
in stones ©

Sunday, July 4, 2010


The morning papers
soaked with yesterdays’ rains
sank with its news
at my doorstep ©

Saturday, July 3, 2010


When visit me
would you come riding
a lightning of bullet?
Would you eat me up slowly
with mouth of gaping bed sores?
Would you run over me
driving a heavy-limbed sleepy truck?
Would you disperse
into my veins
leave me heavy lidded, intoxicated?
Would you leaked out
of a golden nip
wiry and coiled
enticing me with your words?
Would you come
wearing an attire of yellow sunset?
Would you come
draped in a hairy blanket?
Do come
dressed for the occasion
in the mysterious splendour
of night stars and noonday sun ©