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Night

A lone flamingo shrieks in its sleep
Causing ripples in the night's stillness .
The tree in darkness
The tree waited in the dark
Studded with white pearls
Of sleeping flamingos.
Precursor of rain

Dark liquid clouds
Coagulated around the moon
Drawing a nebulous circle
Presaging silver rain .
The temple bell

The temple bell rang and rang
With its thick tongue in fever.
August sky

Clusters of acacias that had grown
Waterless under the skin of the earth
Spread their ghostly hair evenly
In t...
Time and again


I was just asking time
Once again.
Because my words had fallen
Into night.
They were not luminous.
When R...
In the bear-hug of darkness

You do not see bears from bushes
And where the earth ends
And the dark of the sky begins.
At the death ceremony of a relative in Eluru


Trains bring people to river canals
Where death is a mere after-fact
Submer...
Thinking of my my dead father


Consciousness reverse-flows
Reinforced by the fluid present
In horizontal ether-filled spa...
When death happened of my driver's father

In the meanwhile there is this driver's drama
When he gets into train to see ai...
Flickr. dreams


I have several black and white quot;flickrquot; dreams
Nobody touches them because they are
Just my black...
These are no images for nest making



    When one tries to get back to the muse
    One is steeped ,like stick in the mu...
What the old trees do not realize




The trouble Is they want to remain homes

To the many homeless evening-birds

Which ...
I stir along with the train and thought



She the train better stop thinking violent

Not puffing like her coal-eater anc...
Train thoughts




Train-fans stir cold wind and winter air

Shaking shadows of several recently fed men

Bringing out gut...
Train thoughts



As she writes her history on two parallel lines

In the black parchment all the while erasing it

I coll...
Myths


We have our myths,carefully polished

Over Time's washed stones of the riverbed .

Our accumulated minds enormousl...
The road maker

This man turned the drum of liquid
The fires crackled and black smoke
Went up above the tree and red wall
...
noontime stories


trying to read stories
in the noontime,when
least rain is expected
there is a hot chimera
on the tarred...
We tried not to dream

We tried hard not to dream
While awake and in sleep
We leaned against the parapet
The shadows seeme...
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Short Poetry 2

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Short Poetry 2

  1. 1. Night A lone flamingo shrieks in its sleep Causing ripples in the night's stillness .
  2. 2. The tree in darkness The tree waited in the dark Studded with white pearls Of sleeping flamingos.
  3. 3. Precursor of rain Dark liquid clouds Coagulated around the moon Drawing a nebulous circle Presaging silver rain .
  4. 4. The temple bell The temple bell rang and rang With its thick tongue in fever.
  5. 5. August sky Clusters of acacias that had grown Waterless under the skin of the earth Spread their ghostly hair evenly In the rainless , blazing August sky.
  6. 6. Time and again I was just asking time Once again. Because my words had fallen Into night. They were not luminous. When Rilke dropped them They were. But they fell into the same Aggregate of darkness.
  7. 7. In the bear-hug of darkness You do not see bears from bushes And where the earth ends And the dark of the sky begins.
  8. 8. At the death ceremony of a relative in Eluru Trains bring people to river canals Where death is a mere after-fact Submerged in flowing green waters.
  9. 9. Thinking of my my dead father Consciousness reverse-flows Reinforced by the fluid present In horizontal ether-filled space He happened half a century ago While I exist in finite space .
  10. 10. When death happened of my driver's father In the meanwhile there is this driver's drama When he gets into train to see ailing dad He hears dad already dead of too much sugar And look,death is so sweet and so prosaic!
  11. 11. Flickr. dreams I have several black and white quot;flickrquot; dreams Nobody touches them because they are Just my black and white dreams ,not theirs And it is the colored ones they are after.
  12. 12. These are no images for nest making When one tries to get back to the muse One is steeped ,like stick in the mud. One keeps twittering like the night bird Deeply afraid that the wind comes, In the sea of night, bird does not see bird But fallen leaves and broken twigs These are no images for nest making.
  13. 13. What the old trees do not realize The trouble Is they want to remain homes To the many homeless evening-birds Which incessantly chatter to slum kids Pouring out of their improvised shanties With tin roofs glistening in the sun. They do not realize even in their death That our gardener’s three-stone stove Is waiting impatiently for their dry logs To arrive in its enormous, crackling fire.
  14. 14. I stir along with the train and thought She the train better stop thinking violent Not puffing like her coal-eater ancestor While mind walks slowly like the blue bird That went up and down on the telephone wire.
  15. 15. Train thoughts Train-fans stir cold wind and winter air Shaking shadows of several recently fed men Bringing out guttural sounds from sleep’s depths. Dreams spoil their fun through monster bridges And dark tunnels in the mountain’s wombs.
  16. 16. Train thoughts As she writes her history on two parallel lines In the black parchment all the while erasing it I collect exquisite shadows of the night’s silence.
  17. 17. Myths We have our myths,carefully polished Over Time's washed stones of the riverbed . Our accumulated minds enormously meshed As a haystack of shared consciousness.
  18. 18. The road maker This man turned the drum of liquid The fires crackled and black smoke Went up above the tree and red wall Smooth and black like a snake.
  19. 19. noontime stories trying to read stories in the noontime,when least rain is expected there is a hot chimera on the tarred road a lone woman with a metal pot on head poetry strikes now in the whir of the head, a body posture replying.
  20. 20. We tried not to dream We tried hard not to dream While awake and in sleep We leaned against the parapet The shadows seemed to tease; The sounds were unduly harsh And the sights mere fragments.

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