Saturday, September 4, 2010

THE TRAMP




























I am a tramp, young man 
But do hear me out
I am one and One, it's clear 
Of which there are no doubts
Simple really, it is too 
As a matter of fact
Without me and mine, just 
While biting on your mac ...

Which though is hard tsee 
Of our habits internalised
' I ' lit by One goes out and away 
To all we visualise !

Hard ? Not really, I must say 
Though I want you to know
I'm certain high, same crucified 
With want and limp at low 
And am as confused, as clear
Why we each would not
Love ourselves and help others 
With just what we have got ...

Which though is hard tdo 


Of our habits internalised
' I ' lit by One is locked to own
These attitudes we justify !


We experience, judge or value 
From unclear depths, subconscious
Emote or think through, outside - in 
But not the ' seer ' within us
The choice is ours, and empathy 
For rock to flowing river
Tree vital, worm, or I be 
Animal, mammal or man, the giver ...

Which though is hard tbe 


Of our habits internalised
' I ' lit by One is the body now 
All me and mine inside !



Each being, creature and particle 
Empowered to form of existence
With qualities live and dormant 
Senses, drives, felt connections
But the life of it is another quite 
Pure consciousness its constituent
Within this violet light unknowing 
The uncoloured knowing presence ...

Which though is sure hard tsee 


Of our habits internalised
' I ' lit by One is blind of source
Organs projecting world wide !



Ego sheer, I cosmic
The Being First aware
Witness immanent and within
Free, universal, unmanifest
Watching what it is and how, as
Infinite, of which units tumble out
And this witness in intellect squat 
Pervading you and I, and all about

Covered now but with finitude
Qualities diverse, impressions laden to nude
Zillion effects interconnected, relating fine or crude ...



Which though is hard tfigure 
Of our habits internalised
' I ' lit by One is veiled thick 
Mind small, lost and mesmerised !



Our finiteness is etched deep 
Separate body - mind entity
Alone, with survival threats 
Solitary, in existential dreads
Impacted outside - in, processes rolling
Wide world, mundane objects, beings 
Pain, pleasure, emotions in between 
Hung present, experiences imagined
Push, pull, mish - mash unexamined 
Needs ageing, celebrations transient

Lost, unclear, biting unheard confessions
Gaming on, alive to lifeless possessions
Building over touch and go professions
Estranged loves, convenient relations

Commited to meaningless purposes
Carrying the show, to quiet curses
Enthused but on depressed urges ...



Which tiring life is daily real
Of our habits internalised
' I ' lit by One is shrunk to one
Deluded, lonely, traumatised.


All Mister, Missus and Mademoiselle !
We could be happy, adequate and complete
Survive without being the survivalist
Possess without owning, clear the make - believe 
Of immortality through progeny 
Money power and godly profits 
Angelic house, friends and family
Sticking life, its meanings and our fiefs

Of me and minenarrow, coiled up and deep ...

Which truth is dead, but real 
Of our habits internalised
' I ' lit by One rests on it 
Dreams imagined, capitalised !

*      *       *       *       *        *       *       * 

The One, deep blue, wrote on the rocks
That ' I ' accommodate fate and time's shocks
With much to choose yet, do, plod on
Rumbling futures, past surreal, gone

It's nothing, all this now, dear
Just forms, outside - in here 

Just forms - causal, subtle and gross
What, from where, why, I know not
But that I know, am, infusing life 
One, the same all, multiple guise
Waning and waxing, apparent
Big or small, light and dense
Go and come, rise or set
On heart, mind and intellect


And I at peace watch my ghosts act
In this river wondrous, of existence
As, between the two banks
Of matter and consciousness ...


But they all tire and come back to me
In my embrace, to my peace
While you still think of and continue to see
The apparitions in the jamboree !




Friday, August 13, 2010

HARSH RHYTHMS

















The sunset reflects the day
Casting blood in the west :


They walk in file, load on padded crowns
Eyeing the feet ahead, worlds their pace drown
Steps stepping on steps, stop in silence
Heads tilt, a jerk practiced unburdens


But the loud thud is without relief
On their return vicious for more of it


For, forest people these are free at heart still.


*       *        *        *        *        *        *        *




A kid asleep is pulled up sudden
By the hair, jolted, smacked hard then ...


Horror of horrors, the eight corners fill
With lad's terror, his howling screams
As if he'd woke up without his limbs
Or before a face ghastly, its slow twist


Trembling, traumatised by a dracula king.


*        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *   




Nothing soothes ...


Questions terminate on own failings
The spirit volutes on harsh rhythms
Strummed by men addicted to sodomy
And curious, gullible or bored victims


Id prostrate before the ego lording
Women saddled to fires unquenching
Curled in defeat and impressions bloody
Too weak to strike out but anger surging


With unsought beauty, joy disused
And potential latent, sleeping muse ...




The options clear in this soft breeze
In shimmer rustling off sesame leaves.



Thursday, August 12, 2010

O' CALCUTTA !







'Tis late afternoon when the day ends
Depths peculiar play on walls splashed golden
The breeze hugs our faces, clear iridescent
And shadows mild dance, hue fringed russet




With mottled trees in eye, heart on being set
The sea I pass by, to men waiting helpless
Collide with woman half - clad, seemed insane
And glance back, right into her grin unrestrained



With goose bumps I shiver, transfixed in the moment
Happy and free her look, commune in pure presence
Resume quick to walk away, then I happen to check
My own half - grin response, amused some yards late !






On the foot - board, above the ground racing by
My feet nudge deeper while I hang for my life
Arms numb, clenched about a column for support
Molars crush on fear as swerves threaten to smote




I choke on my screams, urging halt and help
But the bus would not nor the burden relent
Distress momenting precarious, howls silent
When sight rests on a smile, calm windswept
Eyes half closed, same body aslant in threat ...




Thank heavens, I pray on speed and take heart
From comrade cool, with our unbalanced start.



Monday, August 9, 2010

ENCOUNTERS







In the office where I work, dear
The receptionist greets with feigned cheer
Scheme and use, please, butter
Looks done up but smiles insincere. 






Mingle with millions in the evening
Gloom laughing in their little things
Worried women spent early
Come alive to probes horny 
In bus crowded, life lost in routine
Chattering of times, empty within.






Dinner in restaurant beside four toughies
Robbers, murderers slyeyes locking as if ... ?






Outside, the swooning moon, below neon lights
Pimps sneak up and a woman matches my strides
Bust heaving, smile non - Duchenne, talks wish - wash
I buy not, but wait to pay for chips, nuts n other trash




She's hungry ... we walk, till she suggests 
And I quote too low, tongue in cheek, abuses I accept 
Glad to have bought the night for myself
My joy, free space, and the book still open on the bed.



Saturday, August 7, 2010

FRAGMENTS AND CALM




Sciences, arts, brothels and philosophy
Old disorders, the dubious heap toxic
Facts smudged, more irrelevant beliefs
Murk unpredictable cascading whips


Deep disgust, apple poisonous juicy :


Converging always to same dead ends
Preying ego sensuous to dynamic trends
To this night polar, impasse predominant
Pray fierce for light, peace and strength


Ramblings gross, groping inert the key 
Digressions, alms, actions debilitating 
Little crafts, monuments lifeless, exigencies
Truth shut, loss abysmal, fields conflicting 


In thought, will, hope and drive whelming.




O' Youth of twenty summers
Restless, enthused and eager
Seeking music, sunk in women
Dreams thick, as bee on pollen


Burnt, stale, common to all men


That catches up in one stretch
To vacuums only humans fetch
Sleep bitter, a passage same
And wakefulness a bosh inane


Of chores black and breathless worry
Damned questions linger as rank thury


Till that twilight of sudden calm
Torment resolved of divine balm
And a state of rest perfect fills
Source wet within, imburses still.