Laying it bare

Sometimes immodesty is actually a good thing

it lays everything bare

as it is meant to be

no thin membrane of delusion

separating two worlds

no keeping things out

to make pretentious claims to preservation

sometimes immodesty is a good thing

because it lets you cut through the

skin

get to the other side

and it becomes a virtue

why call it immodesty then

you may ask,

why not call it enlightenment

or reality

maybe something even more telling

like being or truth?

That's impossible

because language

has already formed

into parched cakes of meaning

clubbing immodesty with the profane,

a depravity of words

a paucity of true eloquence

like a scrap of flesh

being scavenged upon by a vulture

in transit

immodesty is a good thing

because it makes you stop and think

about what needs to be held open

for the infidel to examine

to take in

and make something worthwhile

out of life

there is only one choice here

throw your caution to the winds

free yourself

and start living.

Time's up

The clock on the wall has stopped ticking
it is a big wooden clock
with plenty of character and i keep on telling myself
that it is a piece of great creativity
so let it sit, stay in the house,
it is a proper work of art
what i seem to forget
is that it is like a freezer
and it is keeping me locked
in a fake timelessness
what should i do now?
it can't be fixed
no choice, a time-warped mind will
have to release the chime
and usher the era in.

merciful return to life

Rotting tomatoes and beans
Fallen prey to wind
and incessant tears from heaven
crops of bounty
withdrawing
making way for new life
it is beautiful out there
i don't mean the cherry blossom kind of spring beauty
i am talking about the grave of everything that ends
in a way that makes room
for something new
the seeds i planted are sitting in the cradle
of the cycle of eternity...........

visceral motion

It is a visceral feeling
the sand beneath my feet
I am sitting in the living room
curled up
by the fire
feeling the beach between my toes
the music comes blaring through the speakers
and the drums sound not unlike waves
hitting the shores
then reclining onto their mysterious centre
back in the sea
my mind conjures up images of boats
and lighthouses
ships and cruises
even the painting on the wall
shows floating vessels
all adding up
making me bob across
on the waves of my imagination
to hitherto unexplored places.....

On being ten

My daughter showed me

how to eat

candied ginger

by poking a chopstick

through it

and then sucking on it

like a lollipop

I bet you are wondering

what's so great about that

I tell you

it's great

I would go so far as to say

it's sensational

because she is

teaching me to be ten

again

to slurp

it up

and enjoy it

unabashedly

she brought me

here

in

stages

and now on the eve

of her 11^th birthday

I am learning

that

life goes in circles

not lines

and

that the greatest

enjoyment of

something

sometimes

comes from

going back there

again.

A cold, cold day

A bitterly bitter wind

The inquiring look

On the face of a cat

As I stride

Downhill

Conquering the territory

Of the unconquered

Mill

The grinding mill

Covered in layers
of 100% wool
The label
on the back
says
Merino

Yet I'm chill to the bone
and my lips won't move
the words
are stuck
on my
chilly worn out
brim
you need to
read my face
my eyes
my determined gaze
I am curious
about what you gather
and I am eager
to see it reflected back
in your stance

On the edge

On a precipice

Edge of cliff

Looking down

Into the steep drop

Ocean

Vast mysterious ocean

Hiding the treasure

Which if I have to find

 I have to dive

I cannot and I must

How shall I do this

Have you done it

Once, twice, never?

Have you stood on the edge

Of a precipice

Ever?

And wondered

Where to now?

Shall i dive

Shall i hide

Shall i run

For my life

Pray tell,

Do you know?

Have you been

To the edge of the precipice

Ever?

The Lotus Pond

no Lotus blossoms
today
only pigeons quenching their thirst
beaks a dip in the water
the sound of those fluttering wings
reminds me of a time when
i quenched my thirst
drinking from the font of Love
i am thirsty again
and need to be reminded
by these birds
that liberty and freedom
don't sprout wings
they are born of the peace
of having tasted
the Water of Life

Speaking of Shiva*

So much has transpired
perspired
expired
and come back to life
this is a dance drama
and i love it too much
to not be a part of it
the Black God
stands on one foot
and lets his locks
unfold onto the earth
a sheet of darkness
a terrible sound
splitting the universe
and then
the calm before the storm
dissolution
resolution
evolution
the Light gets switched back on

*with all due respect to the famous kannada poetry translation by the same name

The unfolding

This afternoon

the rain was kissing the earth

softly

and the lingering

smell of fresh love

was tantalizing

as we watched and waited

for the story to unfold

to see how earth

would open herself up

to the elements

we heard the sound

of one hand clapping

and we waited

and the story unfolded

and we were in the middle

of it

alive, receptive

and quite simply

mesmerized by the

wondrous unwrapping

of a treasure

Indolent waves waltzing to the shore

rocks

harboring shadows of sea gulls

drift wood, drifting

two children

building

sand castles

laughing

and telling stories

of imaginary

princes

a charcoal sketch-like

island

as a backdrop

the gleaming, foaming

smoothly gliding

waves

taking my

bobbing imagination

across the seas

to new frontiers

of possibility

where

life

just is

magnificent

and

where

you look into gleaming

waters

to see clear

pools springing

forth with

mighty, mighty

pathways

to heaven.

this one has no name

i am trying to
capture
this moment
because it is
like no other
it is Now
present
forever
infinite
and born of its own
genius

when it dissolves
it will emerge again
instantly
repeatedly
until the end
which in any case
is the begining

timeless time
cosmic expanse of space
collapse
and become-united
and that union is called
Now

this contraction and expansion
of the universe
keep on birthing
new
ceaseless
ring tones

i am calling it
the accordian
of eternity
it is waiting
to be picked up
and played
by you
me
one
and all

i have rambled,
wandered all over this page,
and am ready
to be present again
right Now
to capture this 
moment.

today i am drunk

The last two drops of blood red wine

I had to suck out of the bottle

held precariously

to my drunken lips

it was not just the wine

that I had drunk

or was drunk on

it was life itself

that inebrieted me

as I sat down to enjoy

the feeling

of a little too much

I had to remove

those metaphoric

spirngs from under my feet

and tuck my legs in

with my knees grazing my chin

as I hugged myself

ah, love

life

and the wisdom

of drunkeness

I am asking myself

what's so great

about life

what do you love so much

cant say,

heavens

which world do I inhabit

the earth?

Or the tentative plane between the two

underground maybe

its quite nice down there too

go.

seek and come back

high

heaven will be waiting for you

right here

on earth

god knows. Its true.

resurrection

Gliding, flying, stumbling

crying

sighing

laughing

singing

I came home

to my beloved

I said I was buried and resurrected

because when you drink to the fire

you expose the bitter truths hiding deep

inside your heart

and when you hear your own heart

beat out the truth

then you begin to stride

rather than scurry

and as women

we have to

that is written

it is given

you carry your singing crying sighing laughing

voice inside your head

and beseech it to descend into

your underground

realm of humming happiness

from where you rise

resurrected

do you know what resurrected means?

It means coming back with the

power of the feminine

rising from the dead

being human once again

and being

woman always.

Listen

to the waves

to the silence in between

to the clouds gathering

to the raindrops not yet released

listen to the smell of the water

tickeling the earth

all senses are dancing together

the smell of the sound

and the sound of the smell

meld

into

one

Listen

to the drumbeats

inside your heart

and ask

where they

connect you to

can you join the dots?

What pictures emerge

just listen

be with the multiple

sounds of silence

resonance

quite

contemplative

innocence

listen

to the hungry

ghosts

inside

you

howling

waiting to devour

scraps of joyful self surrender

won't you offer them

a thick slice of freedom

a cup of gratitude tea

mix in the spice of lovely acceptance

and agree to weep for them
if necessary

now, listen.......

Every sip of that tea
was bitter
today

i sat alone
with a saucer in one hand
absently taking the cup
in the other
bringing it to my parched lips......

the bitterness came
from the bitter-sweet memories
of those days
funny
how the bitterness alone stayed
until...........
you walked through the door
and with a brush of
your hand
and an air of happy abandon
you made the saucer drop
edgily
onto the table

that sound i will never forget
it clangs in my head
and reminds me of when i looked
longingly into my tea
searching for signs of a prophecy
when you walked right in through the door......

These precious moments

I was walking along the harbour
with the wind
unsparingly ruffling my mind
blowing my unconnected thoughts
in different directions

I would have thought
that a walk
along the water
amidst a silent bustle of people
wearing grim expressions
would be quiet
How was I to know
That the wind is not polite

I am now sitting at my desk
reflecting on today
on the moments we stayed close to ourselves
and the moments we strayed away

those moments that we were close to one another
the laughter
the frolic,
the alchemy in the air
the peace of understanding,
the giving
I savour
every minute detail there

I will walk around henceforth
holding these memories delicately
afloat
And as they sink
into my skin (for they eventually will)
these sweet thoughts of a day well lived,
yet another tomorrow
will come
to lay claim
over an unsuspecting me
with new drama unfolding
delicious story telling
no facade of stifling composure
to hide behind
you see

for even if the past does not exist
and a future arrives, unbeknownst to us
this moment will persist
infused with the pure joy
we shared today
a precious feeling
we created together
will stay in the now
with me
forever

Now.

So much of what we call memory
or desire
is nothing but a string
of thoughts
passing endlessly through a cage
like hamsters on a treadmill

we think back and look forward
and say o how wonderful
was that day
or
perhaps tomorrow will bring
another thrill
never mind
i can wait
while i gaze beyond that hill
drawing pictures in my mind's eye
projecting them onto the vast blue sky

how is it that we always escape
sitting in the one place
that is located in forever
it is called a moment
and incase you are wondering which one i mean
it is this one, right before you

i hope you can view it
for what it is
and love the promise
of nothing
except
perhaps a perfectly formed
eternally present
moment
it depends
on you

See it.

Now.

Down memory lane

I spent today wandering down memory lane
The same lovely houses,
safe streets, happy neighbourhoods
with us kids wandering into and out of everyone's homes

The parks that kept us occupied for hours
with no playground attached to it
just grounds
to run and yell
in gay abandon

I remembered how we used to admire
those great trees
Flame of the forest
Jacaranda
Cherry blossom
Such a riot of colours
This was the stuff of our arena

I remembered how we used to dive into the gutters
to retreive our playthings
while laughing uproariously
over a joke someone made up

I remembered how we would cycle
up and down streets
and then park our bikes
by the gate and walk into
our families
sitting for dinner

And if I were to ask
my playmates of then
what they remembered best
they would probably say
the elephant that used to surprise
us every once in a while
by walking majestically
down the road
with its keeper

such pleasures
we can only re-discover
if we are bold enough
to take a trip down memory lane
where we know these things surely still exist

Inspiration

Just the other day
inspiration left me
and went for a walk
down a dark alley

There she met
two monsters
one called misery
and the other called death

“Wait!”, said inspiration
don't go yet
I have come here
only to meet you
so i can validate myself

i have nothing to say to you
misery said
Then why dont you come with me
instead?
cried death

I am going nowhere
with you
for i want to emerge
Not move into oblivion
so everyone can search

I want to live up
to my name
dear sir
Not surrender to you
and leave behind
an empty world
for you to plunder through

I will turn around now
you catch me if you can
i dont recommend a chase
You will see me
i will race

I want to go back
to where I belong
into the hearts of men
and women
who's work
will live on

forever.....

I am once again inspired
And i hope to god it's true
that anything
i write from now on
is bound to be true
and with this little
piece
of personal hope
i will leave
this peppered page
and take my pencil over
into yet another
clean white space

Now tell me, my friend and fellow-seeker,
pray tell me, do
have you ever been
in these same two shoes?
has inspiration ever
left you?