THE HUMAN ANVIL

Tag: man

  • Tenants

    We both are tenants
    Trapped within the rubik cube love
    Shaped by our shoulders
    Resting against each other
    And there is no escape;
    For our landlocked lips
    Shifting like dry grass
    Under the music of sorrel wind
    Other than lying on different shores
    Waiting for the same tide
    To ferry us away
    Towards a sunset and a sunrise
    Splitting our world; two indifferent ways.

    You count the stars between your fingers
    And I vanish, like a thin piece of ice
    A spectre, yet unfound, in the jigsaw world
    Left alone to wander the newspaper streets
    Those daily retreats of hourly love
    Bought with midnight mascara and silk stockings
    Rubbed raw between the eyes and thighs
    Of mad men and maddening women
    Looking for a cheap trip to the paradise

    I hear the tea cup tinkle
    And know you have taken a sip
    Of the warm clove water
    Left upon the doorstep
    By the lonely wood worshipper
    Whistling for words
    And I am content that you did your prayer
    Much like my daily dead affair
    To show how much for each we care
    By being willfully unaware

    Thus there is food upon the table
    And smile upon our faces
    And though the roof is leaking
    And the floor is unswept
    And there are holes in our clothes
    And scarce money in our pockets left
    We know we shall scrounge through
    Past the ups and downs and ifs and buts
    Of everyday euthanization
    By lying wide awake
    Half dead with escapist desire
    In some strangers arms
    And murmuring through their skin
    The leftover vows
    We kept for ourselves
    By scribbling away the love
    Not meant for each other

  • Reflections



    All the letters I wrote
    Came back to me
    They were poems I had written
    And addressed to poetry

  • The Art of an Artery


    I see yet know nothing
    I know but can see nothing
    Perhaps because I close my eyes during the day
    And in night I keep them open
    Or perhaps the day dawns when I close my eyes
    And night falls when I do open
    Thus, I am riven, cleaved clean
    And both parts of me are lost to the void
    Where they each calls for one another
    And each fails to answer the other
    So that the half words spilling through the corner of cold blue lips
    Become eddies;
    Wind painting on water
    And the colourless quiet
    Is divided equally to all drowning men

    This darkness of thought
    Tunnels connecting the passage of time
    Yawn endlessly
    For who would turn and fall asleep
    When all answers of today are again questioned tomorrow

    We come and go, we come and go
    With what desire of knowing
    We may never know

    Splashes of white and black
    Stars streaked with paint brushes
    On the decaying horizon
    Universe diluted and powdered into pills
    To be taken twice with warm water
    Before the self-hypnosis servings:
    ‘Ode to me, ode to me
    The orphan child of galaxy’
    A child who sees, who see:
    Spiders crying upon the wall
    And ants dying without a funeral
    With the human belief of being surreal
    Something more than Picasso’s parody of each man watered down into the same shape
    As mercury, slithering inside our throats,
    We paint the dreamland agony on our own
    A martyr decapitated by needle
    Love loaded with gunpowder kiss
    Lucky draw for cursory chemotherapy
    Armchair dissection; with thoughts clinging to the end of the scalpel
    Manufactured magnanimity with expired life lessons
    Vending machines for vison; a dime’s dream for a day
    Granite gods, chiselled, chewing on sand and white vapor of wisdom
    And we the people, popcorn patrons, watching this apocalypse through donated eyes
    In a fostered future where, famished children pose before the camera
    For takeaway Pulitzer
    And the humanitarian prize.

    Walls with wombs
    Gestating hatred
    Watch us, the metallic vultures, as we hover
    With our telescope tuned for hypocrisy
    Our heavy hearts, aching with empathy, from behind the Kevlar vests


    If only the bombs being dropped were bread
    There would be no war left to win

    Two mirrors
    Broken
    Thousand miles apart
    Watch each other and weep

    There is a shell of silence about us
    And all those who can see cannot show
    And all those who cannot see would not know
    How the world is a fish tank
    Submerged in an ocean
    And our giant leaps
    Reaching for stars
    Are paralyzed thoughts
    Trapped in an endless motion

    So, take me to the quiet room
    With windows overlooking green fields
    And empty blackboard,
    Where blank books of history
    Are taught by children;
    I shall be a student of lifelong happenstance
    Waiting for the recess bell to ring
    And sunlight to flood out
    Into the playground
    And make
    Ghosts out of living men

    The texture of wind
    Is not felt by the fingers
    Nor the weight of the shadow
    By the ground
    The time is not seen
    On the skin of the sky
    Nor is the source heard
    Within the sound


  • Erosion


    I keep awake
    Watching the parched lightbulb
    (And the lightbulb perhaps watching me)
    With my hand on the warm doorknob;
    Leading halfway to hell,
    Till the caterpillar thoughts crawl out into the silence
    And cocoons of dreamless desires
    Flood the floor
    As dark pools of velvet;
    With skin like ash and skin like glue.
    Fingers of fire
    And butterfly blood
    Seals the sound of the oboe
    In the roots of time
    So the seeds of silk may flower
    And the fountainhead of pulse
    Breathe in the open every night
    To let the swan song of love;
    Traced on the tips of arched spine
    Leave the lips
    And take hold of the walls
    To make the voice of world
    Like beads of sweat; evaporate,
    And the colours of a carnal mind collapse
    Into nothingness
    Of everyday afterlife

  • The End of an Arrival

    Oh this corpse of mine
    Has settled now
    And cannot move anymore
    Let the waves of time
    Drown it deep
    In seas without a shore

  • The Pedigree of a Patriot


    There is no such thing
    As a country, my friend
    The sooner you know it the better
    All hands are on deck
    But not for your sake
    And to live free is to be a traitor

  • One Winter of Embers

    One winter
    Two flowers bloomed
    Three days apart
    And of all those who saw
    None survived
    For one winter
    Two flowers bloomed
    Three days apart….

    P. S – In the living memory of Hiroshima and Nagasaki

  • Goddess

    And I buried the sky
    Deep in my womb
    And there were stars in my eyes
    The moon south of my waist
    And the sun spilled forth white
    From the cusp of my chest
    So my children could glow
    So my children could dream
    And not be sheeps led on sermon
    Taught to bleat and not to scream
    At the world for not being fair
    And keep a woman unaware
    Of her hips and her hair
    Drawn only if in pair
    And shown smiling everywhere
    To please and to care
    And never do truly dare
    Be a child of the flower
    Wild under bower
    With roots of our own
    Chosen by us to be sown
    In our graveyards and glade
    For a fragrance that would never fade
    From the words once unsaid
    Now shared unafraid
    In all homes and every hearth
    Before being born and after birth
    A song, O this song
    To be remembered for long
    We were there, we are here
    No longer in fear:
    Of the Bible and it’s fable
    Seven sins under the table
    Forced to pay for it all
    Every Adam and his fall,
    Without why, when and how
    We are one and we are now
    Equal in this fight
    Of Us and Our Way
    Once Witches of the Night
    Now the Goddess of the Day

  • Twilight’s Candle

    My soul doesn’t shine anymore
    Like the star it was before
    And though there are those who wish for me
    To be found abandoned by the sea
    These waves, they won’t let me drown
    With my head yet heavy with the crown
    And heartless people crowding the shore
    Chanting: mon amour, mon amour, mon amour…

  • Verbatim

    There is steel in my eyes
    And the world with its tuning fork lies
    Asking me to mourn along
    Knows nothing
    Of that cold, hard touch
    For I am no maker nor master
    But only a thinking man
    One step away from disaster