Fires and Ashes

A Series Poem

Fires and Ashes-1

Our struggles
Are

Burnt alive

And ashes bear them in their fertile belly


We the offspring of
Ashes



We
The mere ashes
Sing the song of fire

Running in the roads
Sleeping in the houses

Missing in the jungles
Crying in the hearts

Grinding in the workplace


Ashes are always loved by fires


Our sultry bloods
Are soaked by
The ashes of our forgetful histories



As the motions stop at a standstill

Poor ashes are loitering in the market
In fear of motions



Matured smokes
Risen from dull ashes

Bite the naive thoughts



They are scared of this eerie brightness

Of this hasty century

That is swallowed stealthily by
A dark night



I can see
Fire

Inside ashes



Ashes of your forgetting, remembrance

And dreams


Ashes

Of your being


Fires and Ashes -2

Ash is important



As every fire
Is
Succeeded by

Ash

Fires and Ashes -3



Ashes don’t speak
To all



They speak a lot

About

The fire


Which generates them



Fires and Ashes -4



Ash

Is the metamorphosis of fire

So
Fire=Ash

Ash=Fire



Ashes are dangerous, too

Fires and Ashes -5



Fires burns the wood

Fire is now dead



Still, wood of greed burns

With flares of
Absence of fire


Ash burns the wood
Fire is not dead

Dark woods
Survive
Only to be burnt

Again and again

Fires and Ashes -6



They are angry

They are badly
Annoyed by upsurge of fire



They don’t like fire

They like kicking the ass of fire

But they can’t

They kick the ash

Instead
 Fires and Ashes- 7
 Pull out

Tongue of fire
 And presume

That fire can neither speak

Nor eat
Nor vomit

But
What will happen to them


From now onwards

If fire start speaking, eating and vomiting

Through the mouths of

Ash?
 Fires and Ashes- 8



I’m nothing

But dusts

I want to
Create

Fire

I want to

Love

Fire

I’m nothing

But dusts

Of continuous ashes
Of my squirmy time

Wrinkles of History

There are
Wrinkles


On the face of your history
On the face of my history

And we were born
Inside those wrinkles of our histories

We reside like hungry parasites


In the slums
Of history’s old body

We consume slang living with our cheap wine

We
Are
Alienated
But alive


Wait
History has not come to an end
It has just begun:
What’s inside your mind?

From within the Pores

From within the Pores


From within the pores
Of time

Come out
Hands
Machines

Heads

They have been pushed up
By those
whose names
Are not written in history


They don’t have name
They are people

This is (not) here

This Is (Not) Here

Hanging before a silhouette of
Your quiet road
Are you there
S.t.i.l.l ...
?
;
.
‘

Unless the hidden matrix of human factories
Explodes like a human bomb
The fight
Against artificiality
Makes no meaning

Noise
B\r/e\a/k\s
Silently
The rhythm

Id
Ego
And Superego
Forgot to return from brothel

Do you remember
We had dreamt of losing something
O friend
Before the journey began?


S.t.i.l.l...


This
Is
(Not)
Here

But why should we

We can, But why should we?

One fine morning
We can leave
Our homes
In search of a new home
To die in

We can sing through
Your vocal chords
To stop singing at all

We can blossom
Inside
Deserted caves

We can run away
From our own
Fires of revolt

We surrender before them
And cry for shelter

We can hammer nail
On our foot
For we had have
Enough of walking

We can inject slavery
Inside our mouths
To be hearer
Forever

We can easily lose
One more war
At the cost of a thousand more wars
To be won

We can
We can
We can

But why should we?

Green Music

Green Music

1.
Go
And bring
My guitar

They are going to dance

I ought to sing
A song which
They want to listen

They are my children
The leaves of roadside tree


2.
Its raining

As if nobody wished rain
This year

But who may forget
The rain
Of a pathetic night in one’s own life

3.
Don’t disturb
She’s still sleeping

She was fighting whole the night
Against tremor

She knew
What is
The difference between
Life and death
That is why she fights
Even for others

She saved the entire village
From a landslide:
She is tree
Of that remote village hill

On MetaEarth

Many Earths

You can create as many earths as you like

No matter
Outside or within this earth
No matter
How mach big or little those shall be

You may not listen to
The pathetic farewell song of
Birds flying towards south

Whether you ask the silent cascade
For its opinion on your opinion of creating new earths

This ever spinning earth has
Always loved to see you
Multiplying your goals, exponentially
Amplifying your dreams, horribly

And, there is ample of space
In this liberal universe

Your ambitious red eyes
Can’t see wounds
That you have gifted to this earth
With ‘zero greed’

Human have always misused its technology
To exploit others:
The educated parasites have
Started gnawing continuously
The crust, fat, muscular tissues, bones
Of earth

Accumulation of properties can make you “rich”
But at cost of
Earth’s silent cry

You wish passionately to multiply
Multiply
And multiply

Ok, you multiply
Your desires
Existence
And markets

But do you know
That this anomic earth
Is bored of your hungry needs?

You can go anywhere
And build your earth of your choice

You can do anything you like
But you don’t have the option
Ro choose between
Your lunatic life and
Earth

Your ego flies over
The empty nests of some newly extinct birds

Whatever big number
After you multiply something with something
You are badly in need of ‘one’

You are deeply aware
That you are gradually losing
Your ‘One’
-The Earth

Music

Music Flows River

Music is the only storyteller

That glorifies the story of dumb times

Rhythm of conversation between granny and grandson

Fills the material sounds with silence

Silence glows like a distant planet

When music

Touches the unseen blades of hungry words

Music is drunk like wine by them

Who never

Fight own war

For they are always warriors of others

Let there be music

In every solemn villages

Forgotten by dynamic civilization

And now- music flows river

From the top of the hills of their pains

Wish You Were Here

Wish You Were Here

“O babe, babe

It’s a wild world”-Cat Stevens

Believe me- I smile at your image

Just to embed my distress

Feeling down

In this gloomy evening

Only if you were here

With all your strengths

Then with all my weaknesses

Would have felt warmth

Of meta-emotion of still cornerstones

Looking at moon

I burn my sights

So that

I could imagine there’s no country

No Hell

No Heaven

And no walls

Speech turns off

From the words

Of ever advertising market

No hell seems more hellious

Than this

Paradise of paradoxical greed

I need you to make me able to heal me

I feel like a winner

When I think I’ve nothing to lose

I feel like a winner

When I forget to win

I feel down when I’m not able to see

What else always lingers on my back?

Wish You Were Here

Wish to see my dark side

Courage of Saying No

This wild and beautiful world is suffocating

For so many Yes’s

Nobody says no to No’s

Nobody bothers

Who dies of his gorgeous Yes

Her beautiful Yes

Yes to the Yes’s

Yes to the No’s

Yes is Yes everywhere

It’s alright

Everybody thinks that everything is in order

But they merely pretend of perceiving Yes

Everything isn’t right

But we say-

Everything is gonna be alright

Ok Ok

And now can you see the dangerous face of Yes

That rapes the dignity of No’s

Every Yes isn’t always positive

Who’ll say No to content minds?

Who’ll say No to flirt masks?

Who’ll say No to seducing prejudices?

Who’ll say No to ill myths?

Who’ll say No to established truths?

Who’ll say No to blind eyes?

Who’ll say No to horrific peace?

Who’ll say No to toxic democracy?

Who’ll say No to paralysed development?

Who’ll say No to barbaric civilization?

Who’ll say No to dead dreams?

The problem the world faces

Is not drugs

Not AIDS

Nor Global Warming

Almost everybody is master in art of saying Yes to the world

The vacuum of courage of saying No

Is gnawing all real Yes’s

Remorse

The Divorce Paper


Before the silence
Screamed-
Somebody
F
E
L
L
Inside forbidden cradle
Just as surreal dusts of
A cheap cigarette
F
A
L
L
S
Inside
A proletariat ash tray, old

After the aftermath
When silence broke its silence
The ideology and practice
Were signing
The divorce paper
In the court of ‘market’

The gigolo storm came
Like a loser
Leaning head

The old storm
Is now
In deep remorse

The gizmo flower holds
A handful of toxic air
Inside its heart
To die
An early metadeath

Peoples Poem

Torn Apart



They have given us
Their specs
So that
We see through
Their visions

Encroached are
Not only our eyes
But minds and brains too

Sensibilities have already
Succumbed to lunatic injuries

Liar tongues
Spit the words of
Commitment and sincerity

Peoples embedded
By hypocrite space-time

Nothing is true here
To truth

Todays sing Swan-Song
To a tomorrow which’ll
Embrace us with
The real freedom
True emotions
And accurate sense

Ivory castles and corrupted palaces
Are seen being decayed
Brick by brick
Blood by blood
Boundary by boundary

All the time
We were torn apart

They tore us apart

Tore apart
Our labours
Our houses
Our relations
Our struggles
Our histories

They and their existence
Now
Are torn apart

Is there any whip of oppression
Which shall stop
The forces of resistance?

The answer is with you
My dear
People