Thursday, December 17, 2009

एअर्थ TREMOR

Thursday, December 10, 2009

हाउ लॉन्ग इस शोर्ट time

How long or short is Time?

Got up early sat on a chair not reading or watching TV,
time has been running too fast lately into the sand
of a desert that doesn’t bloom; must slow time down
to a trickle. After breakfast I went for a walk and took
no interest in what I saw, back in my chair looking at
the clock, yes the forenoon was endless and I was
hungry, and finally lunch. In the afternoon I went for
another walk, didn’t buy a paper I only get engrossed
in what I read and time flies. Back home I sat in my chair
watched a dipteral circle around, fell asleep and when
I awoke it was seven in the evening, time I had saved
that day had been wasted by me snoozing in a chair.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

वर्ल्ड record

World Record
The clouds on the sky, sheep wool of the whitest kind
ready to be made into jumpers and wooly winter socks.
The sun shone meekly in the background so the wonder
could be admired by those who cared to look up.
A gray, loose fleece came floating along it had belonged
to the world longest living sheep which had reached
the venerable age of twenty three, had had its own pen
and lived in air condition splendour. Yes, a ewe; and as
she got older others sheep’s dumb baaing annoyed her,
she had contempt for rams’ clumsy advances, thought
she was a human and trendy, had her own popular page
in facebook with photos and many bleats. As her fleece
drifted westward, dark clouds filled the sky, much colder
now and it began to rain.

Monday, December 7, 2009

इस roses

Ice Roses
Frost on windows? Not where I live now, but where
I grew up, winter windows had thick layers of ice.
And in mornings, before anyone got out of bed, I
carved landscape and faces and saw my work fade
slowly away, by noon I could see the landscape
I had carved through clear windows, the mountain’s
stream, frozen solid now, and trees; mother’s face
also as she was busy in the kitchen baking bread.
I do not miss the cold Nordic land I came from, but
wish windows here too have frost roses, or be as
blank as a new page I could write. “I love you on.”

Friday, December 4, 2009


Footprint in the Sky

From Paris to New York the biggest passenger plane in the world
flew 525 souls, including the crew, with clean passports, sharp press
in elegant suits and pride, no one mentioned the boring subject of
footprint in the sky. 525 bodies bobbing about in mid Atlantic and
where is the black box? Headline stuff for days a commission formed
to find out what happened, human error or technical faults, insurance
companies want to know, while a river of tears floods the runway.
It has not occurred yet, but it is a benchmark. a crash less than that
number is not headline stuff anymore, only a two second bulletin in
the evening news.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

गर्देब implements

Garden Implements.

A rake and a fork, lean against a lemon tree,
Idle, as soft rain gently downs.
Their handler is indoors and yellow fruit are
beacon in misty blue.
Dowdy drops trickle down wooden shafts,
the lawn sighs to no one in particular.
The gardener too sighs as he listless leaves
through yesterday’s paper.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

थ्री नोर्डिक पोएम्स

सुम्मेर इन Lisbon

Summer in Lisbon

In the gentle Lisboetic night the old Heavenly Basilica
shimmered above ground, a white mirage of satin.
Across the road, in the garden of a thousand stars,
park benches, under ancient trees, smoked cigarettes
that glowed as fireflies when lovers embraced.
Sweet scented murmur kissed the moon.