Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Everything That Happens



a little child


at the feet of angry Gods


lifts her up

and takes her to the clouds

Monday, December 13, 2010

Crazy Shinto Waves

Mother told him to tend the stars

a few seconds before she died

And it was in another shadowed dream,

another insane recognition,

that his mind became the evening’s green child.

And now, when midnight silence

eats through his splendid highways and empires,

when those angels of epiphany strike hard at the bereft aurorae,

he goes to the river.

The river knows everything….

Meanwhile, crosses, railroads and orchids keep on crawling towards the weary jawbones of the luminous inheritance….

And the moon keeps on weaving through a thousand looms of cold madness like this

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Vacuum Cleaner

One end stares at me

The other end winks at the dust

And in between,

it’s this sheer fulfillment I’ve been trying to reach for so many years.

Maybe it’s best this way

It’s hard to hold on to all the dark matter (80% of the universe, Wikipedia says)

And it’s harder to wither away from the frames.

So I’m just waiting for the next train and thinking of prehistoric mammals.

It’s just like those formidable kingdoms from history books. Naked and almost real

Words spread roots. Cities, sanctuaries and dusks fill up. Memories rise taller than Colossus. Temples, prayer halls and faith shrink down to fit into A-4 size realization. Structures assure purity. Photons trade with rainbows and time. Intellect hides in briar pipes with all the ashes and debris of this angelic silence. Faces fade away keeping the mask intact. And then, eternity becomes a child’s feverish whimper.

Someday I’ll find all the lost pieces. Someday, you’ll find me begging for all your beauty.

It’s like becoming one, becoming whole. Eventually, I will be.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Thursday, December 9, 2010


Mostly an over-hyped concept.all hyphenated. plus you need some flesh over the skeletons, and then a few bloodvessels to put up with all the blame, and finally, a layer of skin to cover up your ugliness and sameness.

therefore, keep breathing and keep breeding. these are essential elements. and don't forget the punctuations.

then freedom arrives. and you find yourself too free to care. and i'm swimming and there's a party somewhere and song and dance and routine tribal norms. words and ideas put on forms/formulas. and they cease to be what they used to be. and give me my mask back. it's difficult. and meaningless. search for vulgar fulfillments. typhoons approach. bolt up, thunderbolt. buttons and batons and marching stillborn you me our children our fathers mothers brothers androids amoeba and anathema.

polymers. holy curse. yeah. too much haze. too much freedom. stop shouting. fuck you. no freedom no fear no rhythm no radiation no nothing and dot dot dot and shapes. dear shapes. love you shapes. pale. hollow. yellow. noiseless. smokeless. purer than sense. incensed, intense.

Saturday, December 4, 2010


inject blood inject life inject fear inject ice inject reason inject treason inject faith inject cows inject pussy inject lucy inject diamonds inject sermons inject skies inject lies inject ruins inject relics inject queens inject felix inject isis inject osiris inject crisis inject canaries inject rivers inject macbeth inject shivers inject black death inject sanity inject rectangles inject vanity inject nightingales inject babies inject rabies inject jokers inject chokers inject pokers inject non-smokers inject stockbrokers inject bram stokers inject cartoons inject typhoons inject cumshots inject foxtrots inject spiders inject riders inject tramps inject lamps inject names inject flames inject letters inject craters inject stars inject scars inject forms inject storms inject roots inject brutes inject history inject this story inject you inject the new

inject the symphony inject the puke inject the tranquil inject the madness inject the gory inject the gory inject the i-miss-you-s inject the shy misuse inject the decay inject the bouquet inject the asshole inject the payroll inject the vision inject the fission, inject the trigger inject the snigger inject the cough inject the near inject the bluff inject the seer inject the toxic inject the love-sick inject the puppet inject the fuck-it inject the amen inject the semen inject the sea-men inject the freemen inject the still-born inject the forlorn inject the beats inject the belly inject the keats inject the shelly inject the demon inject the lemon inject the profit inject the loss inject the prophet inject the boss inject the petal inject the fatal inject the lust inject the blast inject the mama inject the papa inject the drama inject the exit button

inject my head inject my answer inject my cancer inject my hope inject my dope inject my dreams inject my screams inject my words inject my finger inject my hunger inject my ejaculation inject my annihilation inject my alcohol inject my damn-you-all inject my tombstone inject my epitaph inject my trombone inject my happy laugh inject my teary days inject my dreary nights inject my beery haze inject my eerie lights inject my burning out inject my turning stout inject my chickens inject my dickens inject my threesome inject my free rum inject my verse inject my curse inject my hemlock inject my shell shock inject my anthem inject my hang them inject my pages inject my cages inject my specs inject my sex inject my El inject my hell inject my wagon inject my agon inject my furry blur inject my forever

and once you’re done with all the injecting,

just come here and lie down beside me

and make everything disappear,

and let each and every damn thing that stands between you and eternity fade away

and let me love you like i have never loved before

and let yourself love me like you have never loved before

and let us set the skies ablaze with ourselves and you and me and nobody and nothing else

my lady,

my blue lady

Thursday, December 2, 2010

A "Birthday Letter"

It’ll be your birthday in a few hours, I remember

You will be twenty

Won’t your parents throw a lavish party?

I bet they will.

People shall pour in.

Men, mostly your parents’ colleagues,

with readymade poise and wisdom –

Women, mostly their wives,

with lipgloss and smile painted all over,

And little kiddos, mostly their genetic flag-bearers,

with big red balloons, and blue ones as well

And yes, all your friends, some of whose pride in you

is almost as real as that of your parents

Well, they will come, they will see and they will concur:

“Yes, she’s a big lady now,

all grown up and ready to fight the storms”

But I have a feeling that as you’ll sit and wear that smile of yours

You’ll be, like you’re now,

more ready to “fight all the storms” than they can ever imagine

You have already fought half a dozen of them.

You are too tired to give a damn.

I know that you’ve closed your doors

And I know that you won’t open them again

And I won’t knock, I’ve lost my right

But please make a reply, if possible, from the other side

Are you really happy? Aren’t you?

As for me, you know, I’ve walked a long long way

I’ve been around,

Old temples, new islands, old waves, new highways

I’ve travelled a lot.

The giant bug that was yours is a man today, and he isn’t yours anymore.

I was busy getting drunk a few thousand miles away when you

called out to me. I couldn’t hear.

Or maybe I could, but I chose to be deaf

The moon was waning all the time

They’d choked the river somewhere close to the city.

They’d wrapped the world up with a cold blank white sky.

And peace ran deep down all arteries, veins and drainpipes.

I’ve grown up. My mask has grown up with me.

I’m tired of trying to open it. Trust me, I really am.

Yes, once I met this mannequin and mistook it for an Angel

But it refused to look into my eyes, and so I had to leave

It’s still out there stuck in some showcase I believe,

And I don’t really care anymore.

Though that was not the first time I hurt you, but that mattered a lot, I know.

And then I got way too busy with my own show

People were waiting, and I had to give them their money’s worth

I had to make them clap. I had to make them laugh. I had to be the joker.

And I had to pretend that I am burning with this “Divine Madness”

Bullshit. None of it exists. None of it had ever existed. It’s all make-believe, and you know that.

And when the show was over and they took that blinding spotlight away

I searched for you everywhere. But you were already gone.

And you had left that blue kite torn at the edges,

that sad scribe scorned by the sages,

that fat clown, smiling down the ages,

and those strange creatures chewing their way to eternity

(Baby Dinosaurs, right?)

behind. They were lonely and cold,

and, to be very honest, I didn’t know what to do with them.

So I shot them down one by one. And I rode on.

And I’m still riding.

Poison keeps on spreading across stars and roots

Flowers keep on blooming with fangs and tentacles

Streams keep on gurgling with this majestic fever

Drumbeats keep on throbbing through the breeze

Suns keep on setting behind thirsty worn-out rocks

And I’m still riding.

This was just a lousy birthday letter and

unlike those crazy meaningless ones I had scribbled once

this one might just carry a bit more sense

(After all I’ve grown up too, haven’t I?)

And I can’t post this letter because you’ve taken the letterbox away

Well, I guess I can’t do much about it now

I won’t rock the boat anymore

I won’t try to barge in either

I won’t reach out for you ever again

But reply, if you can, from the other side

Are you happy? Are you really happy?


Your Giant Bug, “in trousers

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Scenic Rhymes for Sinners

The irate pirate lived life king size

Till he got that pleasant surprise

In the form of faceless masks

Since that day he’s dry and cold

And from what I’ve been told

He bides his time thru ceaseless tasks

Now the elephant, he was greedy

He begged for food from my lady

So she took him to the pirate

The pirate stared into his eyes

Which were heavy with untold lies

He waved at him and said: “Bye, Mate!”

The captain’s steady with his ship

The barmaid’s ready with her whip

I know not what to do now

Laws and rules to fool the fool

And Statues stare with eyes so cool

To cut thru your heart somehow

The pirate scratches his dusty jaws

The clock stretches her rusty claws

But I am tired of this place

Every fortnight he skips his lunch

He might die, and that’s my hunch

And Mother says my room’s a mess

Once upon it used to snow

But that was oh so long ago

And now this thirst is ruthless

The elephant was a tusker once

And Mother Goose shall ask her sons

For naked truth is toothless!

So the pirate shall ride the songs

straight to hell, where he belongs

And the same applies for Mother Goose

The elephant chewed up the decanter

And this very sight had weakened her

And I’m way too busy kissing my shoes

And this is where it must end

Dig for gold and find a friend

But never forget those dry goodbyes

Lock the door and wash the floor

Ask for a little and ask for more

The irate pirate lived life kingsize

Another Facebook Ode to a Dear Friend

And here's Monidipa Mondal who doesn't hate rock and role

As much as she hates cockroaches from what I can gather
She's read Robert Frost and she's read about Robert Walpole
But she won't sit for examinations, she would be one rather

Charge along, Cat Ballou, like snot gushes through nose

and blood rushes through the veins when fever runs free:
Beyond the kingdom of poetry, across the realms of prose...
(And once you're done with reading this, try your best not to kill me)

A Facebook Ode to My Favourite Lawyer

Protik Prokash Banerji rules the brazen courts
But oftentimes he starts throwing tantrums
Protik Prokash Banerji knows the loads and efforts
But from what I can gather he's still searching for the fulcrums

Ride, O mighty rider, ride to the sunset
Thy glory shall be sung, by men and by mice
CPC is thy shield, Shakespeare is thy lancet
Protik Prokash Banerji, ah blast me I've already tagged him thrice!

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Friday, November 26, 2010

Moronic Verses

Two Liner

When the mind is new

It needs some cud to chew

Don’t worry, I’m a rattlesnake

The night is starry, and the battle’s fake

They place it in the cake, they call it art

They face it by the lake, and they get hurt

Even sadness has its own pitfalls

It skips the dinner, it misses the meatballs

Don’t write to the grave

It doesn’t make you brave

You think this is a rhyme?

HaHa! You’re wasting your time


Three Liner

I have this strange knack

Of looking back

To say hello to the railway track.

I have this strange wish

Of tearing off this leash

And making love to the goldfish

I have this strange habit

Of being the rabbit

When all I need is to stab it

I have this strange dream

Of hearing drowning children scream

While having my favourite ice-cream

I have this strange window

That shouts at the rainbow

And says: “I’m blind, you know!”


Four Liner

Don’t think you’re too smart

Your smartness isn’t worth my fart

I have my map, I have my chart

It’s just that I’m yet to start

Don’t think you’re the god

And though it sounds a trifle odd

They took me to the firing squad

But they couldn’t find their fishing rod

Don’t speak when you don’t know

Which way the naked winds blow

And which way the pilgrims need to go

To learn all these just book a ticket for my next show

Don’t take me for a jester

The last time I heard from my sister

They were trying to arrest her

She looked gorgeous, her name was Esther

And don’t take me for granted

For the platoon lies stranded

And before the dreams get planted

I’ll be thoroughly disenchanted


Five Liner

Eye for eye, tooth for tooth

High and dry, telephone booth

Sigh and cry, and fuck your youth

You need some luck, you need some truth

And if not, just hire a sleuth

Well I know that it sounds strange

But just beyond that mountain range

I’ve got some meetings to arrange

So kill me and take your revenge

Now, have you got some loose change?

Henry Miller and Friedrich Schiller

Saw a girl and planned to kill her

And as they hid behind a pillar

Henry said: “We need a Healer”

And hence they called up Ben Stiller

Don’t worry baby, I’m here

I’ll just stand, and I’ll volunteer

To make all bad things disappear

But keep in mind, never to endear

Yourself to Santa Claus or his pet reindeer

If you come here and touch

It won’t really hurt much

But if you steal my crutch

Or, for that matter, my Swiss watch

On our next date we’ll have to go Dutch


(Abrupt Sadness, and hence) the Mood-Spoiler

I’ve left my sorrows behind

Just those occasional letters

To remind


That once we talked of sunflowers and cauliflowers