Sunday, January 31, 2010
Abosheshey, raastaye hNatlam
Ekhono shoriirey joler gandho,
Ekhono bNeche thaka
Ekhono onekjon manushke aNkre dhorey bola –
“Ami tomader i ekjon!”
Ekhono golar kachhey bashper abchhaya
Ekhono shobbai ke dekey dekey bola –
“Ami bNachtey chai….
Jodio eto bish
Jodio eto kolahol….”
Abosheshey, bujhhlam brishtir bhasha
Chilekothar rattirey, shob muchhey geley,
tara gulo o…. Manush thakey,
Jibonto, aguner matoi….
Kimba manusher mato i….
Hoytoh bolbey eshob koyek muhurter kotha
Mithye, haoar mato….
Karon ami agagora ta i tai – mithye, bhando…..
Ekhono rakto aar pNuj ugrey ugrey uthhchhey,
Kotha boltey gelei….
Tao kotha bolte chaichhi, manush er matoh,
Haat duto nerey….
Ami bNachboi….ami bNachboi….
Jatoi aagun aar bonya ashuk,
Amake ekhaney thaktei hobey….
Tai ekhono akonthho jeebon dhorey,
Ekhono chetona r mukhey turi merey,
Neel alo, haatchhani, bhuley jaoa….
Jani, aaro jani shei dheuer kotha,
Aar srot….Aar bali, dhulo, abolokon…..
Onek kichhu bhuley giyeo, ami, amra,
Aaro onek kichhu mone rakhte chai,
Karon aoaj ta jangoler gobheer theke ashchhey,
Aaro gobheer thekey….. Phish phish korey,
Kakhono ba shwapoder hunkaarer matoh
Kharosrota kono abohoman ke selam janiye…..
Eikhanei bhumika, eikhanei uposhonghaar….
Kotha Bolbo Boley KNadchhi
Amake jakhon bhenge debey
Takhon bolbey notun baganer kotha
Kimba jakhon toiri habo
Ektara ta amar jonye jhhuliye rekho
Gaan shuntey chai,
Tao, shob chupchap,
Karon ami amar matoi,
Bhadrota dYakhai, ahammoker mato
Aar kotha boli,
jYano ekchiltey rongeen ghuri
Ek dui tin
Andhokaar, chhai ronger pNajor,
Amar, tomar, aar cyclone er…..
Alo ta nebhatey bhuley jeo na,
Bastushaper shongey amar shahobash….
Bhoot bonam Drighangchoo
Aaro onek kichhu i likhtey parbo
Emon ki jhhor kimba du’kul’plabi
Chailey likhtey parbo,
Kintu bhashagulo baro elomelo hoye jaaye….
Hok na taatey, du’diner i toh….
Bojhho, ekhaney shomoyer kotha
Keu boley na,
Ekdin nodii hoye eshechhiley,
Takhon bon-moroger jhhNuti te chhilo
laal ronger shurjyasto
Takhono bujhhtey pari ni shondhya naamtey cholechhey,
Kimba shaper phonaye andhokaarer chhaya….
Sheshey shondhya naamlo,
Durbiinito durbiner mato….Naamlo,
bhengeo dilo –
Karon tumi shobuj meye takhon
Aar tomar paye shNaotalii nacher madok
jWolchhilo, aleyar mato, chokher mato….
Adim chhando ektai…. Je jai boluk ….
Chhando…. Tomar paye….
Ei bhabey toh bujhhini,
Ei bhabey bolio ni,
Bujhhbe na, konodin,
Bujhhtey chao o na….
Kintu taatey amar ki eshey gYalo?
Ora tinjon chhilo
Hariye jaabey boley,
Headlight e takhon odbhut shob ulki
Rong chhitiye chhitiye holi o khelchhey….
Alo r mukhey takhon guti-bashonter daag….
Abosheshey ora hariye gYalo,
Odbhut shob onko koshtey koshtey –
Sheyrakomtai taara cheyechhilo….
Prochur bhul korechhi,
Khata bhorti laal daag,
Tobey ekhon nodii perochchhi,
Shomoy jiggesh koro na….
Onek holo, ebar chalao ekkagari!
Aar derii noy, ebar jaboi Belpahari!
Bhabchho ami klanto ekhon, bhabchho tumi thhik i
Mithye kothar bahor dekhey, shottyi kothao shikhi
Onek holo, aNshtey gandho – machher muroye
Dubley sheshey shagor hoye, pahar churoye!
Bolbey kakhon uthhbey abar shammohoner daakey
Machhranga der dilam boli, bYasto kaajer phNakey
Khun chepey gYachhey,
Phool-gulor naam o bhuley gechhi,
Gola diye aoaj berochchhey na,
Tao jeney rakho,
Karon jeney rakha bhalo,
Jey ami ekhono bNechey achhi….
Khun chepey gYachhey,
Eibar ekta espar-ospar hoyei jaabey bodh hoy!
Fokir Kimba Nartoki
Shamuk hoye egiye jabo,
Golata alor dikey i…
Shamuk hoye bhashbo jani,
Amio bhalor dikey i….
Jodio shomudro ta ogadh
Holei ba, shNatar kaattey khoti ki?
Rongeen Morok, Palok, Oedipus-Gulmolota
Pagoler matoh likhchhi,
Shabdo shajachchhi –
Duchokhey megher bhNaj,
Klibotwer dNat bar kora bhirkuti….
Amar kichhui chai na,
Prem noy, shohanubhuti noy,
Adh-jeebh chuk-chuk o noy,
Shudhu shabdo chai, bhasha chai,
Chitkaar chai –
Ekta notun prithibii srijon korbo ami,
Ekhon Bujhhi Shurjyo?
Ekhon klanto, thhiki i,
Tobey herey jaoar kotha bhabtey chaichhi na,
Bhabbo o na….
Halof korey boltey pari – amio jiti, majhhey-shajhhey,
Tai chintagulor kochukata – prosroy aar shoichhey na jey!
Ekhon klanto. Abar jegey uthhbo, abar Ihudi habo….
Baddo ghum paye. Tora agun ta jWaliye rakhish….
Rashod diye gelam, bNechey thak, kha, ghumo,
Aar amar kotha bhabtey hobey na toder.
Bhalo thakish. Shobai.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Delightfully dead – like the rain
Like you said – it’s all in vain
Mad and numb and thundered down
And there’s my face – mocking like a clown
Ugly me, the masks were better
Where’s my chain? Oh, where’s my fetter?
And then the fire, sacred and profane
And saints shall whistle to a God, insane
And light is mother and rain brings songs
And home is where my coffin belongs
Now let me dance with my twisted head
For hope is hatred and the trees are dead
Staring down the graves where corpses moan
Deep inside, there’s a telephone
That never rang for a thousand year
The gallows are galleries where blackbirds cheer
Holy books being read
Holy tears being shed
Holy wishes being wished
Holy cockroaches being squished
Dear reader, it’s hidden now
Dear preacher, take a bow
Dear doctor, your medicine cures
Dear monster, I'm all yours
Like I said, it’s all gone by
Close your ears – it’s all a lie!
Words are worthless and rhymes are fake
The snake ate the frog, but who ate the cake?
Torn pages and torn roots and torn flesh and torn blood and torn everything and torn nothing and everything and nothing and nothing and everything and thereby hangs a tale
Kings and Aces
Queens and Knaves
Dancing with the flame
Shameless, like shame
I know who you are
And everything else is a distant blur….
All these prayers…
From beneath the stairs
Honestly, who cares?
The dead moon masturbates
“Hey, you remember the pain of Resurrection as and when it happened?”
Nah, I was way too busy getting my pencil sharpened
“Do you remember anything else?”
Nothing, but for some distant ringing bells
And of a neonlit sign that read ‘Sex Sells’
And of a warrior princess named Sylvia Plath
And of a storm that left behind flowers in its aftermath
And of blood dripping from a bee-hive
And of a priest named Bob Dylan who died in 1965
And of a god named God who was nothing but a god
And of the Whore of Babylon whose breasts I pawed
And of those creatures of creation – inherently flawed
And of that August-Childhood-Rain that left me awed….
Okay, so now I’m trapped, never to be free
Look into my eyes – can you see me?
And now that all the vows are broken
You can take my love – it’s just a false token
And you can take whatever you want
Bread and butter, dick and cunt
And whatever else, as you may please
As for this breaking down – it’ll never cease…
Finally, it’s time to go
Beyond the pitch-black rainbow
You can either win, or you can lose
Or else, like me, you can choose not to choose…..
Three shots –
One for the monkeys
One goes to the stars
And the third one is responsible for all my scars
One goes to the galaxies
One for sex
And the third one is intended to mock at all my mistakes
One for light
One goes to darkness
And the third one is for Thanatos being burnt at my furnace
One goes to the night
One for words that rhyme
And the third one must swallow me up in due course of time
Three homeless old couples huddled together in the rain, with myself pretending not to be bothered because I am way too smart and I have to contemplate on the philosophies of life and death….
Fuck me. Just another jobless asshole muttering nonsense.
And that’s all
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Hoyto ba konodin eishob michhiler sheshey
PNouchhey giyechhi dekhi neel kono shomudrey eshey
Kimba urechhi bujhhi ghuri hoye megheder deshey
ChNad bujhhi ghum dYay, chhaya dYay, alo dYay heshey…..
Hoyto ba konodin anmona-uthhoner pashey
Rongeen latai haatey boba ek pheriola ashey
Bolechhey onek kichhui, bolbar kotha janey na shey
Tai bhindeshi pakhi hoye pakha mYaley akashey akashey
Tarpor ekdin ekraash chimneyr kalo kalo dhNoya
Giley nilo jato chhilo bhuley jaoa algochh chhNoya
Ekhaney bhishon bhiir, shari shari manusher mukh
Egiye cholar nesha, ekhaney juddho korar shukh
Raatghumey ashbey shey, hoyto ba chinbo na taakey –
Nodii hoye bheshey gYachhey jonakir agochhalo jhhNakey…..
Pakhi hoye urey gYachhey shwopner i bujhhi kono phNakey
Jaakey ami bhuley gechhi, bhuley gYachhey sheo toh amakey….
Monday, January 18, 2010
And then the fire
To stare at your necklace
Those shadows on your face
And then the sudden urge
Of those yellow crumpled leaves
To join the grieving dirge
The day forgets, the night forgives…..
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Desires and that sad geometry – faded, oblong
Times. Shapes. Me. You. Past.
The totem-poles and the mist – all where I belong
Song of life. Everything. Silent. Like a child’s corpse
Winter’s harsh, and where moments flutter to death
Bullet-holes, blood-stains – where my shadow morphs
into a butterfly – a butterfly! a sad song, a mad faith…..
Oh it’s a religion! – they say
I guess they’re happier today
You’ve told me that story time and again
And now it’s my turn to gift you my pain…..
Singular stories, plural memories –
Well, my love, that’s all that there is !
That’s all there is, that’s all there is, oh, that’s all there is !
Poisoned by unknown kisses, slaughtered by ill-famed glories….
Stories, Glories, Memories…..
And then, that cold senile descent
Following the footsteps of some forgotten saint
Into the moth eaten breast of love and fear
I’ll be there…. I’ll be there…Yes, I will be there…..
I hear some footsteps rolling by the river
I feel the breeze, I see the leaves quiver
And then, driven by some hopeless hope, the final fall
Like the shadow of the crescent – those towers stand tall
There remained some light, long long ago
Now it’s just this weather-beaten shadow
Eyes to see
And then the snakes….
The snakes, the snakes
Hurrah! For the preacher is dead !
Now sing to me a song of death instead…
This brand new song
It won’t take long
To take the shape
Of some primitive ape
And remain there
With all your prayer
Glory, and that other strange sound…..
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The oceans have gone away….
Way beyond that sacred sky
I see eyes…. Eyes….
Eyes of the stars
And the breezes are deep
And all the ships have sunk
In the petals of the bluebell sea
In the harpsichord of some ghostly pale mausoleum
And in the green deserts, you had built me a house
But the house became eyes….ah….eyes
And in the desert nothing grows but for eyes….
And in the river nothing flows but eyes….
It’s cold and lonely out here,
But I’d rather mind my own business,
I’d keep the fire burning
And I’d make my babies strong…..
The flood and the drought breeds eyes as well
And the wounded soldier bleeds in your guitar
So that long after all these I’ll see a kingdom
Where the King, the Queen, the Jack and the Ace are blind…..
My hands are frozen, yet I have to write
My sword is broken, yet I have to fight
Soldiers and windmills all the same
I’m sad for Quixote, and I see a flame….
And in that flame there’s all my life
Marching along the edge of a knife
My faith is broken, yet I have to sing
For my Lord and for my King
The stars have set the night on fire
And before long I’ll light my pyre
And I’ll see you in my twisted dreams
For the smoke is cruel, or so it seems….
All of a sudden I’ve lost my rhymes
I’ve lost my words
I’ve lost my battles
And the eyes are everywhere….
In the frost and breath
In the stale damp cigarette-reveries
In the pages of all the Holy Books I had written for you
In all the midnight charcoal graffiti of my bedroom walls
When everything becomes mad
When the wild flames leap up from the night sky
When the doorknob watches me with its ten-million-year-old cold gaze of death and steel and harmony and silence to eat me up…. To swallow me down the gutters of the unwritten dog-eared history books and my serpent skin is ripped apart by the by the dark dancing shadows of the chrysanthemum leaves on the yellow streetlight fog of my windowpane and everything becomes mist and bereavement and the sacramental waters which we throw up the moment faith makes us sad for Jesus and Ezid and El and Ka and for the final Hallelujah for nightmares naked in the cold and I have to lie to my own flesh and to my own mother and to every other thing till my bed sheet flies away to the moon which is now hidden by the glowing embers of the clouds…. But never to my eyes…. Never….
I had promised to write a poem for you
Now it’s upto me to keep that promise, you know
And I won’t keep my promise
I won’t hide my promises in a treasure trove
I won’t bury my promises deep into the skies and give you a treasure hunting map expecting you to dig out some rotten corpse of poetry
I won’t write a poem for you
I will write you through a poem
Through this poem, perhaps
I will create you with my sighs and with my flames
I’ll chisel and curve you with my hopeless tears that never flow
I’ll burn you with my very own blood
I’ll create you…. I’ll be your Creator, your God, your Father, your Son, your Holy Ghost
I’ll fill up your skies, your oceans, your rivers, your everything….
But not your eyes
It’s for you to sketch out your own eyes….
Like two dark and endless wishing wells of time –
Holier than your breasts,
Holier than your flesh,
Holier than your Faith,
Holier than your Hope,
Holier than your Love
Holier than your Mother…..
And as for the child who mourns for the morning star –
Show him those skulls and skeletons
that dangle from the black petals of the Lotus that blooms on the Blue river of wine and poison and death and love….
And you’ll get that sweet scent of pain that plays hide and seek with his cold breath…..
For everything has eyes
Everything…. Everything…. everything….
Even the child’s chocolate wrapper flag that flutters proudly against the sky
and declares war against Heaven.
And I loved you once
And I still do love you….
Is this everything?
Or is it just that good old you and me?
Is everything for my own?
For my very own satisfaction?
Even the old half dead moon?
Everything like shame
Like the last crime of unwritten sleep
And of those vacant dreams of the last trees
The whole night
And of the silence
Walking through… Just the walking trees
And of the mute songbirds
How long ? Oh how long?
Evenings are always tired
Are they not?
They remind us of old cities
And other faces
They’re meant to laugh
His face on her lap
Isn’t it so?
Not even a dream
Hands and thoughts
and the final zero
Like empty men
And the face of life and
Life of the smell of salt, of dreams, and
Over the splashing
Of our heads
We gave birth
Of our very own children
I fell in love
How many girls?
And how many stars
And sleeping all alone
In the twilight
In the twilight that
And all feelings
All those feelings…
They never exist
Do they? Do they?
And olden rotten
Me and you
No one’s busy anymore
Like thunder, moving life
If I see her again then
When the moon will come
with branches and leaves
and twigs on her mouth
She wants to build a nest all for herself
Where shall I hide myself?
In the golden wings of the vultures,
In the fog of that fear and night
Miles and miles…. Beside the walls
And the breeze, kissed by the kerosene
And bowstrings of the dynamos
Like our marching faith….
Like every night that breathes a thousand more
With the smell of salt, love and alcohol….
And the guava trees…. A single star still lives
Like the blue wine of Nile…..
Red fire, death flowers….
The sky…sky… all around
Tearing off the mornings, the rain….
A strange sound
Old cigarette stories
Bullet marks, older than all crimes
And crimes older than sleep…
The eternal, innocent sleep…
A thousand mornings came
On a thousand wild horses
So many rivers have changed courses….
So many suns have set…
Yet, the lighthouse stands tall, oh….
All my songs….
All my leaves….
The dew and moss on my chest
since the beginning of time
The water never knew me
Never knew… never knew….
Silent storms, silent flames, silent stars
I’m that priest of all the dead stars
You’re the taste of life
and the pain of death in my eyes…
That’s all for peace….
Life-story-smell… beside the lake
And then, for the lost tides of the mist
The Blue… the wings of the sky,
of the kingfishers, of the deepest sorrow….
Someday you stayed on the rivers
When the feathers fell…
when the leaves fell…
when the storm came….
Ask the sea whatever you have to ask
For the sea knows all the stories
The word-webbed days, pale green nights –
arose, from the womb of the sea, like time, like mist,
like stars, like you and me….
The sea is a weaver, the sea…. The old mother
Her womb smells of the dust of history….
Make love to the sea when the pain makes you mad
For the sea is that sad lover who haunts the broken relics
of our dreams
For the moonlit sands pine with desire for those timeless waves
when a thousand violins set the days and nights on fire
Enter the sea…. Let the sea enter you
And bear the child of tomorrow for her…for him….
The child of love and sea….
Whose breath smells of salt, and eyes
glisten with all the radiance of four million new-born Suns….
And when the twilit evening makes you sad and lonely
Go to the sea….
Sit beside the sea….
The sea is lonely as well
And the sea is blind
She can not see the twilight,
Though she can paint it for you
Tears.... Idle tears….
Her crimson breasts
Harpstrings…. Playing the music of
Eurydice-evening….Life! Holy life! Tender life….Morose life….
Go to the sea and confess your Raphael-petals and
For the sea forgets…..
The sky forgets….
Abandoned ships, abandoned birds…..
I never cared what it means
But for this dizziness
And what it means
Just this and this
Old Gods of hallowed spirits
Let the stars set this night on fire
That’s my only wish
My only solemn wish
That same old pain ringing out all throughout
That same old pole star
That same old west wind
And nothing else, just these moments for us to melt away
And these burning nights… I’ve seen many of these dying
And I’ve seen your wings spreading out across the skies
Blue seas with swollen wombs… carrying our children
Beyond the mist of the wooden tomorrows,
And those Mayan statues of darkness
My castle stands tall and proud over the quicksand
And I’ve gifted you my pack of cards
Keep them well, and keep my children well
For they’re your children too…