koko said (locked up, locked in)

now feels like september - and at times
a forlorn november (or a cursed december)
i try to play it cool: remember a --------?
(don't have to say it, just because it rhymes)
raging, raging against a dying ember
like the dreams of dylan t, hazy slumber
(and his longings for sunnier climes)
i'm asleep, like i'm awake all the time
cities and countries: landscapes sublime
i've been to these places, but i don’t remember
here, now feels like september - and at times
a forlorn november (or a cursed december)

here, here: locked up, locked in

Pond-er

Alone a frog sitting on a rock
By the pond
Looking at fish that swim 
In the water
And at the birds that fly
In the sky – (and the reflection
Of the sky and the flying birds
On the water in the pond 
In which swim fish)

And a little later
With a sigh, gets up the frog
Picks up its stick
And it goes on a walk
Thinking about things
Longing to fly – like the birds
And on and on it walks
Till it reaches the next pond –
(The famous old pond)

Throwing the stick away
It jumps in – 
Blunk plunk nglunk
Splash

Glub glub glub

again

Cat at my window –

Burning coal bits for eyes

Diamonds! Stars! Lightning!

Beautiful, yet a little frightening

The night before – there were skies

Lethal stars, similar glow

Face

A bare wall, badly broken – patches of white paint here and

There

There she stands with her world of worries in thought bubbles

Invisible

Inside her head and there behind on the wall to her left – a black

Broken square

Almost a frame to a spray drawn face – half alive on the wall and

The other

Exists somewhere else, not on the wall, not in the thought bubbles

Invisible

Inside her head but out of the black broken frame on the wall

Behind

end of rainy evenings

late evening rain
writes a thousand letters
on the outside of a glass window

on the wall of every room

when seen from inside
the little bits of poetry from behind
can make one cry

or make one just ignore them

when in a hurry
to not think of many things, anything
and thus ends an evening

last night

i left my windows open last night
there was moonlight on my bed

i pushed my sheet away
i shrouded myself
in the silver light that spread
all over the bed

the moon didn't let me sleep
i didn't let the moon sleep

through the night we spoke -
me and the moon, i think it was
just us, who were awake
the last night 

talking about everything
that slept

^o)

aimless fish fly the sky having lost their way
oh it's another day the restless dogs bark
bent spoons reflect your moon and eye
sit by the fence afraid of the dark
on Y branches near the junction are nests
inside which sleep little birds yet to fly
mother beaks with dead worms hover above
isn't it a song worth remembering
isn't it a sight worth a day past, to last?

##

ok, so we've got shining tiles on our floor.
after a few months of chasing deers we come home and when we open the doors, there is a thin film of dust on the floor.
the floor still reflects our forms standing at the door, reflections with hazy edges, like our images in some memory where we have already started fading.
last time we saw ourselves on this floor, we had lots of hair on our heads.
chasing deers can be very tiring and it makes people grow old sooner than they really do.
we walk on the tiled floor, leaving foot prints on the dust film and also let a few strands of our hair fall on the floor with every step.

Telescope

An eye for the sun and woolen balls for floating clouds

She lost a tooth

“I’m done with all my youth and a tooth

Is nothing much to lose”

Said the old woman looking trough the telescope
“The stars have shifted a bit - and the moon has a squint

The leaves have wrinkles and the tree is more brown

Beyond the distant hills lies the time with my name on it

I’ll remember the first time I stepped in a brook

When the flowing stream looped around my ankles

That flowed to the sea and is now back again

As rain

I don’t care, I’m done with all my youth and a tooth

Is nothing much to lose”

She said, peeling her eye away from the telescope

helpless

we left the sun behind us
and walked on our shadows
even the shadow
of my outstretched hand couldn't
stop the flower from falling

4x1, 4x2

peach walls, pink gowns, smooth legs and calf muscles.
a woman with a mole on her lower lip passes by.
the room shrinks a little, and then a little more and then a little more till it is the size only that of a match box.
'am i better than her?' the other she asks and says she started thinking about it the very minute she saw the woman with a mole on her lower lip.
by the side, coffee noisily brews in over priced machines.
'i should think so too, that i am better than her' he says.
the picture on  the wall opposite in time comes back to life and smiles and then laughs.
raven reflection on the sea surface and at the end of the sea where running streams join the ocean.
'oh, i only overflow this morning' - somebody screams.
the skies get clearer and the weather, more pleasant.
mornings can feel like evenings and dawns are dusky.
the sky can be gray or blue or black, but that morning it was green.
purple dreams, pink thoughts, oh when is it the time for bed?
someone steps on an empty matchbox and flattens it.
rain washes away debris and crushed cardboard boxes.

bird eggs and beards

oh you should know me, don't you think?
i see you've grown a new face
and i bought a new face for myself too
so you see if it is hard?
see, i was able to see through you in
no time at all. your beard let me see
through and showed me
a face that i knew from before - after
keeping aside time and the dirt
that it brought with it, unto faces.
oh do you rememeber that little
egg that we hid inside that tree hole?
there are little pieces of broken egg
shell there now, for the bird flew away
long ago and made new eggs in other
distant tree holes when beards grew dense
on faces yours and mine. but still this dawn
i can see you behind your new face
oh you should know me too, don't you think?

black and yellow

  black and yellow
       (oh hi, hello!)
as on a banana peel
            the way they can make you feel
   of yesterday and the rest of the past
                              the striking contrast 
        beautifully slippery
head to the ground, feet flippery
                       out of control too
      (ah how do                                              you do?)
                                   and the memory or shadow
  of anything yellow
                                                                      is black
(are you as yet, back?)

blast

momentary madness after
the first two hours -
that steers one through
the rest of the day.

when it rains, it rains
thinkers know it is not
a monday when it is
if it rains, it pours.

night. motion.

rain. needles.
the moon. clouds.
beautiful. eerie.

the clown

the mc donald's clown laughs all the time
in yellow and red and black

he sits on the bench near the take-away counter
with his natural perpetual grin
with one arm stretched out on the back-rest

people sit on the bench
next to the friendly clown and get
their pictures clicked
the clown laughs
even in the pictures

it's impossible to believe
that his grin would stay on his face
& that he'd keep his arm stretched
on the bench back-rest
in the same friendly way
awaiting someone unknown
to sit beside him and pose

when the lights are gone late in the night
when no one's watching

red

when it took off from my thigh,
the fat mosquito's stomach
was B positive

What did you thought, ya?

"Did you got my mail?" He is asking.

I am not having any idea which mail this man is talking about. So many peoples are mailing me everyday and I am having so much work to do that some days I'm not even getting time to eat my foods only.

I cannot tell him that I do not remember which mail he is meaning. No, that will spoil my imagery. Then I get an ideology.

"I could not able to open that mail" I said him, "can you able to resent it?"

Sometimes, I find it more easier to do such things and all, so that I get time to revert back to queries.

What to do, ya? At least with this escaping done, now I can go consummate my lunch in piece!

scratches and a dent

i had almost forgotten
the yellow taxi, (almost an over sized soap box)
that was parked outside the row of doors
green, red and blue

this morning i saw that again
at the same place and on its side it had
three new scratches and a dent
that i do not remember seeing - when i
had seen it last

until next time, when i'd have almost
forgotten it again, if i am to remember
that yellow taxi, (an almost soap box)
i'll only remember it with the

scratches and the dent

(yay!)

at least in my dream the night before, i got a hole (yay!) with my newly bought shirt and skirt, at no extra cost.

'free, free!' i remember the wrapper paper screaming, about the hole that came absolutely free with my new shirt and my skirt (yay!)

once worn, the hole along with the new shirt and my skirt, i remember seeing the green (yay!) of the next layer of clothing below or just pale brown (yay!) of the skin - that depended on where i chose to wear the hole that came

absolutely 'free free' with my new shirt and skirt (yay!)