and it never stops
Aug. 18th, 2004 02:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nh4ever Delhi
I have a job,
at a busy intersection
of washing windscreens,
on the streets of Delhi
of Maruties, Ambassidors, Sonatas and even Mercedes
I have a burn
on my right arm
where a lit cigarette was applied
to teach me,
not to touch these cars,
while young men laughed
I have a pant
and in winter, sometimes
for a day or two
a government blanket
I have a cough
which dosent go away
and food sometimes,
for 10 minutes or so
I have a friend
and we sleep together
or did, until one day
a man broke his foot
for earning too much
i have a story,
in my mind, in winter
a Birbal story
which my mother once told me
I have the story
to last me through winter
where a man survives a night in icy water
by looking at a lamp three miles away,
and stealing its fire, warmth and light
I have my mother,
also in my mind
for she is created
from fragments of time, when i
overhear mother and superimpose son
I have a place to sleep,
a different one every night
or maybe every few hours
for my law tells me,
as does a policeman's boot
that the footpaths are not mine,
nor is a railway culvert
I have held a hundred
or a five hundred even,
all through the morning and afternoon,
and on a lucky evening
have enough to eat
I have the hot sun,
the cold rain
the breezy air
and the earth under a stone pavement
I have a job
of washing mercedes
I am Delhi
next one, titleless for now
and dedicated to Yatin for a variety of reasons
why do we like
to spend time with our friends
when there is no practical reason to
no increase in money supply
nor, usuall, in our ability
only maybe learning how to speak,
even that, not the boardroom talk
and yet, to the exclusion of all,
it is friendships allure
that attracting, makes us tolerate the day
till come evening, and friendships sparkling high
and even within our friends
there is that one
with whom, there is forever
a golden silence to savor
i made a friend,
i have found
to come close, to my God
the God in me
When i, just for fun, choose to,
believe we were all different,
and so to be born,
i must not have believed,
that i really would believe
for now i find,
that you are separate from me,
and at times, it is an agony,
knowing, at the back of my mind,
that i have chosen it;
to enjoy my own misery
does not, right now, make the misery easier
and so, for my soul
to commune with a different soul
to come as close as possible
is exquisite Ecstasy
for it brings back memories
of the time before birth,
when we were, in truth one
therefore i have found
i have friends,
to get as close to the place
as possible, where i will find that
'you' is synonymous with 'i'
On two feet or four
how great we believe ourselves to be,
on the one hand
moaning about destroying the oceans,
and, on the other
secretly pleased, about our ability
how silly it is,
to talk with a straight face
of being custodians,
not owners, of all that we behold
when, in truth, we are mother nature herself
do i accept a tree as a part of nature
the growing, immovable, moving tree, holding up the sky
and do i believe a rain-deer, is a part
along with the tiger that eats it
yes, a tree is nature, nature putting our roots and leaves
and yes, a deer is nature with hooves and antlers
why then, do i believe i am different
just, for the joy and agony of thinking
do reason and intent alone put me apart
or am i apart because i believe i am
yet the beaver does not feel a union with the tree it fells
nor the wolf, for it eats the sheep
then, it appears the intellect
and our emotions that are the barrier
but, as anyone who has looked into
the eyes of the owner of a waging tail
or seen a shining dolphin, leaping into the air
emotions only serve, to make us brothers
the four footed and two footed alike
reason then is the key
to opening the boor, that barrs me apart
reason, supported and buttressed by memory
where then, did this keystone appear from
in the womb i had none, and with birth it came?
then, it follows, it came from experience
experience, coupled with society
and yet what is society, other than a tribe
and a tribe is what, a bunch of monkeys were
and the bunch was the product of the environment, nature
thus it seems, that it is nature all along
nature acting on itself
creating, destroying and playing jokes
making itself feel apart from itself...
for nature is nature
whether it walks on two feet or four
titles bite
two layers
hazy, underlying, out of focus
and, the obvious, with something askew,
just slightly wrong
never questioned, just lived
and people met, laughed with, at..
and all life passed, like this
but, in moments of solitude
when there is no waiting
but, frighteningly, just living
and, it dawns
a monstrous black cloud
sneaking up, silent
as a norman black tiger
yet, slightly acknowledged, devouring the world
never understood
the cause still misted
the fear building, forever building
the bleakness swallowing it all
and then, thankfully
a phone call
and gratefully
you run
forgetting, on purpose
all
yet, it is never done
at the back of the mind
as you turn to look, gone
yet, forever present...
there is something wrong with my life
maybe things shouldent have names
someone should tell me,
how to receive praise,
what to do
instead of standing there
awkwardly
muttering
conveying nothing of my happiness
that you noticed
depreciation, i know how to handle
and blame, how to negotiate
in a good mood, or if it is justified
to nod comprehendingly, purse my lips
when it is not, or am feeling blue
to flay the criticism, or if no fault can be found
to pick contemptuously at the critisizer
but, a complement..
now what do i do with,
the happiness so evident in me, to me
thanks so inadequate
im really very grateful to you, overblown
you are really very kind, sarcastic
what then do i say
i try to talk with my eyes,
but am afraid of looking stupid
with wide bulging eyes, more of a cow,
than a grateful human
teach me then,
how to receive praise,
to let you know
that im appreciating the appreciation
that im glad you noticed
other than, of course
by writing a poem
hugh.... done for today
sorry i dont have time to spell check..
I have a job,
at a busy intersection
of washing windscreens,
on the streets of Delhi
of Maruties, Ambassidors, Sonatas and even Mercedes
I have a burn
on my right arm
where a lit cigarette was applied
to teach me,
not to touch these cars,
while young men laughed
I have a pant
and in winter, sometimes
for a day or two
a government blanket
I have a cough
which dosent go away
and food sometimes,
for 10 minutes or so
I have a friend
and we sleep together
or did, until one day
a man broke his foot
for earning too much
i have a story,
in my mind, in winter
a Birbal story
which my mother once told me
I have the story
to last me through winter
where a man survives a night in icy water
by looking at a lamp three miles away,
and stealing its fire, warmth and light
I have my mother,
also in my mind
for she is created
from fragments of time, when i
overhear mother and superimpose son
I have a place to sleep,
a different one every night
or maybe every few hours
for my law tells me,
as does a policeman's boot
that the footpaths are not mine,
nor is a railway culvert
I have held a hundred
or a five hundred even,
all through the morning and afternoon,
and on a lucky evening
have enough to eat
I have the hot sun,
the cold rain
the breezy air
and the earth under a stone pavement
I have a job
of washing mercedes
I am Delhi
next one, titleless for now
and dedicated to Yatin for a variety of reasons
why do we like
to spend time with our friends
when there is no practical reason to
no increase in money supply
nor, usuall, in our ability
only maybe learning how to speak,
even that, not the boardroom talk
and yet, to the exclusion of all,
it is friendships allure
that attracting, makes us tolerate the day
till come evening, and friendships sparkling high
and even within our friends
there is that one
with whom, there is forever
a golden silence to savor
i made a friend,
i have found
to come close, to my God
the God in me
When i, just for fun, choose to,
believe we were all different,
and so to be born,
i must not have believed,
that i really would believe
for now i find,
that you are separate from me,
and at times, it is an agony,
knowing, at the back of my mind,
that i have chosen it;
to enjoy my own misery
does not, right now, make the misery easier
and so, for my soul
to commune with a different soul
to come as close as possible
is exquisite Ecstasy
for it brings back memories
of the time before birth,
when we were, in truth one
therefore i have found
i have friends,
to get as close to the place
as possible, where i will find that
'you' is synonymous with 'i'
On two feet or four
how great we believe ourselves to be,
on the one hand
moaning about destroying the oceans,
and, on the other
secretly pleased, about our ability
how silly it is,
to talk with a straight face
of being custodians,
not owners, of all that we behold
when, in truth, we are mother nature herself
do i accept a tree as a part of nature
the growing, immovable, moving tree, holding up the sky
and do i believe a rain-deer, is a part
along with the tiger that eats it
yes, a tree is nature, nature putting our roots and leaves
and yes, a deer is nature with hooves and antlers
why then, do i believe i am different
just, for the joy and agony of thinking
do reason and intent alone put me apart
or am i apart because i believe i am
yet the beaver does not feel a union with the tree it fells
nor the wolf, for it eats the sheep
then, it appears the intellect
and our emotions that are the barrier
but, as anyone who has looked into
the eyes of the owner of a waging tail
or seen a shining dolphin, leaping into the air
emotions only serve, to make us brothers
the four footed and two footed alike
reason then is the key
to opening the boor, that barrs me apart
reason, supported and buttressed by memory
where then, did this keystone appear from
in the womb i had none, and with birth it came?
then, it follows, it came from experience
experience, coupled with society
and yet what is society, other than a tribe
and a tribe is what, a bunch of monkeys were
and the bunch was the product of the environment, nature
thus it seems, that it is nature all along
nature acting on itself
creating, destroying and playing jokes
making itself feel apart from itself...
for nature is nature
whether it walks on two feet or four
titles bite
two layers
hazy, underlying, out of focus
and, the obvious, with something askew,
just slightly wrong
never questioned, just lived
and people met, laughed with, at..
and all life passed, like this
but, in moments of solitude
when there is no waiting
but, frighteningly, just living
and, it dawns
a monstrous black cloud
sneaking up, silent
as a norman black tiger
yet, slightly acknowledged, devouring the world
never understood
the cause still misted
the fear building, forever building
the bleakness swallowing it all
and then, thankfully
a phone call
and gratefully
you run
forgetting, on purpose
all
yet, it is never done
at the back of the mind
as you turn to look, gone
yet, forever present...
there is something wrong with my life
maybe things shouldent have names
someone should tell me,
how to receive praise,
what to do
instead of standing there
awkwardly
muttering
conveying nothing of my happiness
that you noticed
depreciation, i know how to handle
and blame, how to negotiate
in a good mood, or if it is justified
to nod comprehendingly, purse my lips
when it is not, or am feeling blue
to flay the criticism, or if no fault can be found
to pick contemptuously at the critisizer
but, a complement..
now what do i do with,
the happiness so evident in me, to me
thanks so inadequate
im really very grateful to you, overblown
you are really very kind, sarcastic
what then do i say
i try to talk with my eyes,
but am afraid of looking stupid
with wide bulging eyes, more of a cow,
than a grateful human
teach me then,
how to receive praise,
to let you know
that im appreciating the appreciation
that im glad you noticed
other than, of course
by writing a poem
hugh.... done for today
sorry i dont have time to spell check..
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-18 10:51 pm (UTC)I had to stop reading after the first one again. Because it was perfect, and I couldn't break the spell.
Seriously. Note-perfect. Not a letter out of place.
I am in awe.
pa.....
Date: 2004-08-19 09:30 am (UTC)but that means that the other poems had something whong with them... what?
yours in happy happy place....
avi
stupid fool
Date: 2004-08-18 11:52 pm (UTC)Thinking that a few jumbled words
Will win the hearts of a pune starlet
But then again, vanity has its virtues;
It often brings out the best in men
Facets previously unseen, by many
But then again, like in those famous stories
for every hero there's a villain
in other words,
DON'T LET LAW SCHOOL GET TO YA!
Re: stupid fool
Date: 2004-08-19 09:18 am (UTC)vanity....
the subject matter of jane austen, dickens
and other literary heavy waights
now illuminated by a new starlet;
and greatfully glanced at,
not to frequently
for fear of being blinded
by a humble poet
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-19 02:43 am (UTC)May say more later.
And let me echo the last fragment of Arnab's comment...
Re: shock and awe
Date: 2004-08-19 10:00 am (UTC)Loved those lines:
yet the beaver does not feel a union with the tree it fells
nor the wolf, for it eats the sheep
then, it appears the intellect
and our emotions that are the barrier
...
reason then is the key
to opening the boor, that barrs me apart
reason, supported and buttressed by memory
Back to law now. How do you like it? I mostly wish it was less details; the system I dig.
Ah, and friend away. You are older than eighteen, obviously... & ;-)
But be warned: there is Buffy, nudity, and yet more Buffy.
Re: shock and awe
Date: 2004-08-19 10:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-20 06:46 am (UTC)cool
Date: 2004-08-20 09:34 am (UTC)thanks!
avi
LOVE THE ONE ABT DELHI
Date: 2004-08-22 06:01 am (UTC)