The Way My Life Is

The way my life is, it will remain the same way. In hardship
and in ease; in conflict and sway
to the everyday rhythm. Greeting all on my path —
How dear they will be to me, and to them I will be so dear.

Every moment will go like this: a life hued
with joy and sorrow. In the playground of a colourful world,
where He frolics with us all —
He, Who will be dear to me. And to Him, I will be so dear.

(This is my translation of a Bengali song, ‘জীবন আমার চলছে যেমন তেমনি ভাবে’, by Rabindranath Tagore.)

26th Montage

This sky

Is made of marijuana maze,

Dreaming the flight

Of a dour faced boy-

Hunched over a nude 

In an old Playboy.

This mall

Smells of money, small mark ups-

A steel trolley floats on

The floor, pulling a Czech girl, 

Belying the drag of a

Cheap daily skirt.

This god

Is made of none, smells of none.

None in the name, none described-

The thought of none, the dream of none

Son of, daughter of, none!

Created this day, boy and girl.

This day

Is full of drama and doors-

Open and shut-

As if a human heart, a rose bud-

Unwinding spool-

If only, one could see.

An Ode to an Angel

(I found a very old Greek poem -around 800 BC old- by Daemon Hipocritus. If you don't like it, blame the poet.)

Gimme a moment, angel
Gimme a minute or two,
That what is taken, angel
Will be back to you.

See, this is a crazy dream
We are on th' demon's side.
Let Gods live pious lives,
We are heathens, don't abide.

A lull and the battle wounds -
Every pain is worthwhile,
Tube rails blow white skirts;
Dancing diva, Monroe style.

It's not about love, angel
Inspire, inspire
Take sweet clay home, angel
Leave the fire, red-desire -

No! There's no burn, angel
It's a dream in purple, blue
In the morning when you're back,
Everything is back to you.