Sunday, 28 November 2010

Lexicon of lostness

Proem: The beginning of the end i.e.,
a very short introduction to ending (not closure.)

Poem: Rampant idiocy often leading to indigestion.

Ending: The sense of which does not always give closure.

Closure: and closer, and closer and closer.

Night: Absence of daylight, dirty twinkling stars.

Coffee: And cigarettes.

Bye: Adieu, mon enfant.

Saturday, 27 November 2010

The nights are becoming endless,
my life and loves are faceless,
and I am tired...

I wish I knew
What I desired.

And the nights are growing longer
and the ennui grows stronger

I am tired
I am tired
I am tired.

Tuesday, 16 November 2010

I used to write poems

Now-

I write proems

Sunday, 7 November 2010

since the stars that twinkle
here
and
there

are the same.

tell me

what is the use of my crying
under the night sky?

--------------


a glass of champagne sits
lonely
its bubbles
fast disappearing

tomorrow night

nothing but

stale vinegar.

Friday, 5 November 2010

I don't know what to do with my heart. I would like to take it out, dip it in essential oils and spices, and then after admiring its fleshy nothingness, take it for a ride on the Ganges, and finally shove it out- out into the depths of the gurgling Ganges when nobody is looking.

When N. is not looking.