Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Eyespeak




Eyespeak

You speak
With
Your Eyes

Don’t stare at me
Like that

I can listen
To your voice
Through
Your eyes

I
Feel
You
Inside me

Even though
You have
Never
Spoke
To me

Full Stops



Full Stops

Dreams are never stopped
By full stops

As to why
There is always
A new sentence to come
Carrying a new story

Have you just stumbled
By a full stop
Of your life?

Dreams are like
Roads

Dreamers walk
On the road of dream
To emerge
As another road

Dreams are not destinations
Rather
They are wombs
Containing destinations

We shouldn’t be afraid of
Full stops

Full stop
Is
A sun of evening

Just wait
Wait for the morning

If



If

What shall you do
If all the doors are closed
Wherever you go for one night shelter?

What shall you do
If the land below your feet
Start slipping?

What shall you do
If all the rivers have dried up
And you are dying thirsty?

What shall one do
If sincerity is out of demand

With hollow commitments?

What shall one wait for
If all the rays of hope
Are nibbled by dark assurances?


It’s simple
Never give up
Never give up
Never give up

White Holes

White Holes

There are holes
In the air

Small holes
Big holes
The most confused
And the most fatal
Medium sized holes

The holes are white
As white as
Her lost handkerchief

Their divorce paper
Is white
Just as the hole in the sky

There are holes
In the air

Uncle likes to keep
White moustache
He never puts on anything
To blacken moustache
But
Always white do not mean
Peace
It may also indicate
Some deadly wars
Without red bloodsheds

Wars are planned
In White House of America

Awful white thoughts of status-quo
Always keep on embedding our living minds
Like the white cloth covers the dead body

There are holes
In the wholes

Holes
In fragments

So whole is never a whole
Of something

Fragment is
Always
Subject to much more
Much more fragmentations

Holes in the space
Pave the path
To the most awaited
Times to come
Which never come
In reality

There are holes
In the air

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Love Poem

Dialectical Love

I love you
Sometimes

I hate you
Sometimes


O honey
Forgive me-
I can’t love you all the times


If I do so
I shall have to
Hate you all the times

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Mind of Graphity

Mind of Graphity

Let my mirror
Be destroyed
At a time when
Moon seems like
A maiden demon

Religion spirals
The villages
Like a gigantic serpent

Can you wipe out
The bloodstains
On the cloth of time
Where arrow means
Feathers of pigeon

Where frustrations fill
The gaps of desires

Silent prayers are being made
For infeasible wants

You speak high
When others are deaf

Sunflower sings
Song of sorrow

O reader
Gaze me
And
Read me
My image
Destroys
Itself
While you go on
Reading me
Letter by letter
Word by word

Poems of Darjeeling

Darjeeling Dreams

How can
Non-homogeneous scrawls
Of landslide
Be their epitaph?

And now
When History inside the uterus of struggle
Crawls like a-would-be-extinct
Volcano

You may not know
What do you want
To see
To mean
Exactly



Each eye sees dreams
No matter
How much feasible
The dreams are

Emancipation of sweat
And liberty of profit
Are juxtaposed
By the rulers

Dream-
Lazy fogs over
A dried up cascade

Hope that there is a well
In the desert

Real trusts are still alive
They can’t be burnt
By burning their effigy




Dreams
Are quite simple here
In steep hills of Darjeeling

Rhododendron is Rhododendron here
Though it may mean a lot of things in itself

Hollow pride
And concrete prejudices
Of prowess
Throw chilly powder
In the eyes of history

Songs of sting
Clatter across slogans

Clothes are flags
Now

Fingers plucking tea leaves
Are not trembling
But are screaming silently

World sips their tart scream
With bed tea
Each morn

They pluck their dreams
With each plucked tea leaf

They burn their lean desires
With the coal they throw inside
The engine of Toy Train

Pains are sang by
Alcoholic winds of waiting

Children are going school
Only to unlearn the menace
Known popularly as
Democracy

Dreams are seen
Here
Through
The eyes of
Burning belly

Destination Darjeeling



Destination is crystal clear today
To reach
The land of thunderbolt

Hills embraced by clouds

Skies as blue as our childhood imagination

Song of ambiguity
Is now blowing in the wind
When the policemen march
On the roads
Of silent explosions



Destination is very clear today
To reach the land of
Heritage train
And
Heritage hearts

Land of folklores
And
Innocent ecstasy

To reach
Land of Tea
And
Tears



Destination is clear today
As we head toward cloudy dreams

Where the primitive wishes
Become suburban Cocktail parties

Destination is very clear today
Open your cameras
Your notebooks

What you shall enjoy most
Is the aching joys
Of hills

Come on
Get ready
Sirs
Madams