Wednesday, October 08, 2014

Still breathing..

When I look back at this long deserted blog, I wonder what i felt when i made those posts...

So much has happened in my life during these last years. 

I am still alive... 

the eye of my past, future
and this, my evidence:
roving through unborn Time
I shall slumber in its history
if I was, then I shall be

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Meet Me..

Here, meet Me,
Artless Me

Not of the book
nor of wine

Not of letters
nor of numbers

Not of books
nor of machines
Not of space
nor of the world

Me of doubt

I am just a negative
greater negatives, lesser men
upon me look with favor!

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Farewell.. Ali.. Farewell My Bro

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

If she were far..

If she were far,
she would be a fragrance.

If she were far,
there would be long-distance call, or a letter,
or sometimes the excuse of holiday greetings,
to know how she is doing.

If she were far, she would be a dream,
or walking thought,
or an image which dances before the eyes
and glitters like words through the night,
as one turns the pages of books.

An image for whose sake
a life-long search through caves and rocks,
a life-long swirl on waters and sands,
living with a flute and acacia brambles,
keeping guard on ramparts all night--
all would be desirable.

If she were far, for her sake
a voyage that lasted ten years,
every murder committed
would be just.

Sometimes a fragrance, sometimes a dream,
or a couplet, a book of lyrics or a fable.
But she is not far,
is neither a dream nor a fragrance.
Just a little warmth of the body,
in bed, at night.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007


In the silence of the night

Two hands
Clutched together...
Saunter: gently caressing the wintry sand beneath their feet

Two hearts
Spoke together...
Words: softly echoing the dreams within their shrouds

Two Souls
Merged together...
Warmth: peacefully pausing the moments of their embrace

Oh Night, Joyous Night
Do not descend upon a broken note

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Those days..

Vacuous days
burrow themselves a place in my heart
as if it was some empty stretch-
denying me my time
in the cavern of blissful calm
my dreams too.


like a lone tree
for the sake of
embracing yellow autumn to my bosom
one after another
in passion
throw onto the earth
all the garments of my body


Forever annul is this respite of mine
this charity of dreams.


A day will come
that I'll forget all this
the severity of the time even
when my heart was rife with pain.
I'll be the white bench
that remains empty
so I may sit on it
and stare into the expanse
where drops of water
like some formless substance wait
to become the apparel of the wind

Sunday, March 25, 2007

I owe you...

In the stillness of the dark night,
she lay alone,
sobbing on her bed,
how much she owed him..

This mournfulness, this restlessness
the inner convulsions, an endless island,
solitude within, body dying —
all this I owe to you.
And they were vast,these plans — ships
great walls of ivory, fine words,promises, promises.
And it would be December,
a jade horse above the water,
doubly transparent, a line in mid-air —
all this undone by the trapdoor of time
in perfect silence.
Some glass mornings
wind, the hollowed soul, a sun I can’t see —
this too I owe to you.