A bedside mirror stood forlorn By the building entrance. The hot sun beat down And I was plunging into ice-cold Water, as I walked on. The pages turned themselves, As I flitted from ’38 To ’56: Gestapo to Israeli. There is an Eid, To remember Abraham’s sacrifice But where is the Book for this Age? … Continue reading Displaced, or, On Reading Sacco
This is a writing project that was thought of and executed while we were idling at work. Neelanjan Dasgupta and I are co-authours of the poem. He wrote a line, I the other. But it should leave you with just one feeling. She fills me with dread, with horror, with pain. And a certain niggling … Continue reading Close
Lifebood, All entwined. Pinpricks of tears, Hit out From a shared subconcious, How I hate this ageing, How I hate this dying, How I hate this finiteness of everything, Every place, Every world, Every emotion, every tear. Why are we so fragile, When we think we are Gods. Continue reading Pillow + Scream
In the spaces between words, In the silence surrounding voices, In the spaces outside the letters Lies that which is more precious, Than anything we can define, Or defile with measurement. The vector of Time spares no one, Slashes and surges through these Veins of nothingness Leaving dust in our hands, Shadows in our minds, … Continue reading Electric Impulses
Sharing, Of deeds done And things felt Are more important Than the deeds done And the things felt; Alone. Fighting the Good Fight, Is more important, Than staying alive; And feasting over the verdant; Triumphant. Sitting by the shores, Of your imagination And dreaming about What She is telling you Is more valuable… Than all … Continue reading The Good Fight
I want, To sit in a hall, Discussing Frost Sleep at the back, And dream of Picasso. “Thanks to art, instead of seeing a single world, our own, we see it multiply until we have before us as many worlds as there are original artists.” Marcel Proust Continue reading …
I locked them up, In a corner of my heart After running up the stairs, That night. Told the Whispers That no longer could I live… With thier chains. Banished them, For I was Launcelot. But whispers are whispers. And sometimes they return Making me check the chinks Within and without. Then I think of … Continue reading A Racing Heart
It has been a year since the 2009 Gaza “war” by Israel on Palestine. Critics of the campaign have focused, justifiably, on the high number of civilian casualties and the disproportionate use of force. But the results are indisputable: since the war, the number of rocket attacks from Gaza has dropped by 90 percent. The … Continue reading Happy New Year (again)
I prefer the sea. Because I close myself in Because life is not fulfilling Only after a climb. Life is fulfilling when I see little fish Frollick. Because I can smell The pungency of life Because when I cup water, And light plays In my palms I feel prismatic. Because when a wave throws me, … Continue reading Of a mind that wanders to that to which it belongs
