Thursday, April 28, 2016

Poems to End April

Hapless-

Dusk brings twilight
As if to rub it in with another promise of dawn


Moon hangs in the sky
With nowhere to go


And the stars can’t stop falling
Putting on their brief, brief show


The booze has broken his body
But not his mind
It keeps finding itself
Even when it gets out of hand


The need for an audience brings me here
Making me a slave
To all the things I hope to give up
And all the things I break


It seems none of us know anything
Least of all why we are here
Now if we can’t go pretend?
Who will ever live there?


Some More Whine?
Let’s attempt new genres
Carry binoculars to see horses in dressage
Perhaps a monocle
Sit on balconies (one of those posh-boxes)
Dress fancy
Watch an opera
Find out what’s behind those veils
Listen in behind those wails
(If it’s not the man that matters but the 'gho' he’s wearing)
Let's get a customized weave
Personally tailored
Measure all bodily cavities
Tie up all loose idiosyncrasies
Walk like success
Talk like you own the human touch
And in that chosen outfit
Attempt to play a misfit
Let's cut off all roots and branches
Ally with mushrooms
And lichen (with an exception for cacti)
Burn incendiary incense
Keep idolatry altars
Follow tout-Buddhas
Asphyxiating love
Marauding monks
And swing vicious carousels
Let's make bullshit
Transparent
Visible
And even playfully apparent
(Now let's do it before it does you)

Untouchable-

-you can't touch the sadness
and then you run out of luck
touching sanity
living a most agreeable life
negotiating and compromising
-whatever time time may have left
for you to hug the sadness
and touch the insanity-


Poetic-

the poet is the thunder
lightning the poem
and rainy days the paycheck


Broiled-
boil the water long enough and it sizzles down to nothing
still thirsty
still hungry
looking for a fill
a drill
hung over on an old, old thrill
the fun long gone
the play finished
still in denial
still refusing admittance
game-over


Sale-

the gals dance
the men gape
and consumerism flourishes at the Thimphu Clock Tower


Timing-
its not yet time
for the pine trees to let go
and for the pinecones to fall
when its time
you'll know
she'll know
and soon
everyone will know
the climb
the victory
and the inevitable fall
for its just a matter of time
before you pay the inescapable toll


This Time That Pass-
The heels on my boots are hanging by a glue
My khadi-kurta is torn
The jeans are a thread
And the underwear is wrong
I carry no wallet
I’ve no money
I’m here to direct a documentary 
On losing your identity
If the cover of a book is a clue
You can read me through and through
I dress dirty
Almost fragile
And hit the tracks
Sit by the river
Go hungry
Walkabout
Write a line
And drop in on a buddy
Lightning flashes in my head
There’s thunder in my chest
Tempest in my ears
I eat
I write
And wonder where I’m gonna get the bones to feed the dogs at my brother’s place
Where I’m a wandering guest
I pray
I hum
I drive on the last dregs of a draining gas
Chewing the final gum
Dusk draws in
Moon’s out of shape
Stars still faded
I get fit
I get ready
The darkness brightens
The music at Mojo Park heightens
And Highland whiskey in my glass returns
Such a miracle
Such a drag
This time and all that pass


Shapeless-

even when bent
and
out of shape
she's still luminous
she's Luna
she's brilliance
cool light 
upon a grateful sky
and
a thankful earth
she's the moon
she's the silver
beaming luminously
upon the gold
and
upon the rubber



Vision-

the light at the end of the tunnel are your eyes
reflecting your mind
in a darkness you created
that never did exist
now walk on
fearless
and be done with the tracks
and don't look back


F!
tired
three shots of whisky
a change of exhausted mind- shooting Special Courier, and not the Highland
boredom will do that
and routine
now a mundane status
gesus genghis khan!
moments like these tell you raw and naked that life's basically meaningless, filled with happening shenanigans 
that mean nothing when you're alone
stuck with yourself
that wrinkling face
thinning hair
scrawny frame
all hidden and decked in the same old clothes
the weary leather jacket
torn boots
faded threaded jeans
and obviously
that wreck of a car
all chugging along on the road to nowhere
undocumented-
just
waiting
to get penalized
by the law
F!


pooling-
my mind's a stream
if there's such a thing
like a pool
where she comes in and swims
-laughs and dreams
-butterflies and floats
-sits and sips a drink
and talks and smiles and plays
and
sleeps like a baby
until
she's doing it all over again
-down in the valleys
-top of the mountains
-in bustling cities
and in solitude
the mind and the stream sort of belongs to me
the rest of it belongs to her
-the pool
-the play
-the laughter
and the life


Keep Raining on those Parades-
It’s raining
Again
I love the rain
The way it pours on everything
The way it wets everything
The way it stops everything
From happening
The way animals take the rain (anything falling from the big old sky, really) is the most graceful way you can accept anything (Watch the dogs. Watch the cows. Watch the birds)
Its elegance falling on your heads
Even people
Especially people in a hurry (the important people, really)
Kind of stop
For a little bit
When the rains first fall
But as it pours (you can almost touch the confusion on their faces)
That look of bewilderment
Frozen in their steps
Mouths agape
Eyes wide open
Jaws slackening
As they ponder the magic of the moment and then kill it
By moving
By getting under those rubber-rain-gear
Under those umbrellas
Resuming their frantic pace
Walking off
Cursing the weather
Bullying the rainmaker
Never really seeing or feeling or hearing or wondering
That the very floating white clouds they photograph on sunny blue skies now touches their flesh and their skin
And every living thing planted on the ground is a growth from within
Like the rains
Touching
Everything


Day of Drab-
It’s a drab sunday and against all odds the dreams I had last night of my favorite princess has ended and once again I’m up
Forever flummoxed at these uninformed and unplanned awakenings
Brewing Italian coffee that comes in a Bhutanese packaging and a (feathered rough touch)
Sitting on a bed I’m getting to know
The mattress far too wide and far too thick
The pillows far too soft and far too big
And the blankets all over like a big bad wig
I peekaboo
Looking out through the windows where the curtains have not been drawn
So I can see the changes in the light
And let the light filter in
As the moonlight last night
And the sunlight this morning
And a sparrow chirps dancing on a weeping willow tree
This room must be on the lee side
The shady bit
Because the light in the room is low and drab
And the only sound echoing around the place is a golden Chinese cat
Waving at the door
Greeting the sun
Powered persistence
I must say
That for 250 rupees it waves a lot
But that’s not really the point of the story
You see I’ve nothing to do
Not really
I’m a very unimportant man
And an even more unimportant person
In fact I’ve no recollections of anything remotely resembling importance that I might have been party or privy to in the four and more decades of a very useless life
Still going strong
A most decadent one
The kind that your parents worry about (used to)
And your neighbors warn you about (still do)
But if dreams don’t come true don’t worry your fears always do
And that’s what i've been doing
Making all my fears come true
There’s nothing to be done about it other than becoming and being it 
Day in and night out
And on drab windy gusty Sundays like these think about it and maybe write about it
Somehow knowing that a combination of drab days that are welcomed and a sense of instant availability via your presence is the sugar that sweetens the ice-cream
And now having befriended and known such drab days how threatening can the other seasons be?


fly-
nature
this consummate artist
now lifts and blows 
dead leaves with the breeze
making them dance
come alive
saying
i am
getting out
of the way
of
my self
lemme
fly
away
turning into banded swallows
open masks
staring at you in the face
and
flying away


pet names-

though i fear calling you baby, baby
i'm not gonna stop trying, baby
you might not even hear me baby
but this is me saying baby, baby


recall-
in love
with memory
remembering
nothing
harking nostalgia
building melancholia
getting nothing
ignoring the bard
"We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; 
And our little life
Is rounded with a sleep"
wrote the bard
spoke the bard
this bloody bard!


Moist-
tears in the rain
salt in the tongue
eyes watering down your cheeks
beats in the heart
hearts in the beat
down in the gully
up in the head
guts out
guts in
this mess is the best


still wet-
it rains
and everything gets wet
before you can come home dry
and having known the rains the ground gets earthy
where the road to selflessness starts journeying with the self
slipping
falling
injuring
where the healing can begin
in any weather
sincerely
earnestly
come rain, wind, hail, snow
or come calm 
or come shine


infatuated-
Love
Yet again
Now don’t judge me
If you must
Blame me
It seems love is way too pervasive
Even for someone
As slippery
As cold
As old
As me
Now I hope you didn’t think of a woman
Or a girl
That would be daft
Though it must be confessed
That the feminine
Will do that
To the masculine


Barred-
the tv hypes
the bar drinks
the couch sits
and the chinese golden cat waves at the sun
as i write and recoil
wording impressions
coloring memories
on a graying day
now raining
now turning
black
and
white


spawn-

i'm spawning
you're spawning
we're all spawning



happening-
why compare?
whats the point?
this pointlessness?
why not just be?
get out of bed when you wake up?
grinning at your dreams?
listening to birds?
enjoying coffee?
a cigarette?
amazed at all this happening?
turning on the news?
flummoxed at Prince dying?
death! what a word!
what is it?
we will never know; will we?
same with life! life!
what is it?
the attempt to know is the expression
i guess
so what can we do?
what do we do?
how do we do?
be thankful i guess
be grateful
that in a world of happenings
you are the only thing happening

as mind
as mirror
as you, me, them
as we, us
man, woman, child
and
Prince


Ps: YourLustForLifeStartsRightNow!

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