He was supposed to

8^th February 2014

#1 He was supposed to

He was supposed to leave
a trace for every face in the crowd,
to believe in backward pundit lines,
like zebras on the pavement
gazing at policemen of the traffic.

He was supposed to linger,
coffee flavour in her mouth
reminding her of chocolates,
midnight craving for melody bites,
the usual and the optimistic.

He was supposed to position
himself between her eyes,
get shot from a distant bullet,
die from a different wound -
someone else’s pain
in a translated world of confusion.

Batman

17^th January 2014

#8 Batman

Once upon a batman, signals of the dark
there could be someone up in my room
going through my notebooks,
pencil sketches of cities that never existed.
Batman nailed my comfort,
tore apart my imagination,
no apple trees or cup cakes -
nothing tasted sweeter than the muscles.
Night-vision grazing past my bed table
stopping by my breath, caught unaware,
the picture of a thousand bleeding hearts
everyday they sleep with my child
of fantasy and bubblegum – blowing in and out.
They could have stayed on,
not finding what they had come for
my child of comic book heroes -
they stretch my days
longer than we expect,
I will return someday for another moment.

Bake my head

1^st January 2014

#7 Bake my head

Bake my head in an oven of thought
I like the disorientation of evenings
and the gradual prints of bed-sheets,
changing my posture, disturbing
the new year lights of a terrific city,
staying awake like a ribbon in your hair.

They drank too much to walk the road
to their houses or places they thought
they might be staying and then disappointed,
they raise their voices against the
innocent night and its resolutions.
I always hated the loud – brute force
and now even more, so bake my head -
it is disoriented and lacks the stealth
of a cheetah.

Growth

20^th December 2013

#6 Growth

Head below my shoulders
snow under my skin
its colder than you can imagine,
the spacecraft of my time.

Stations often forgotten
often ignored for lack of sleep,
too much intimacy
lost in fields of paddy
soaked to the roots of disbelief.

That’s how monsters grow
from shadows to another height
decaying slowly in our blood
like breadcrumbs on my table cloth.

Fragments of sleep

30^th August 2013

#5 Fragments of sleep

I gather my fragments of sleep
lost in aisles and window seats,
travelled midway through
sandwiches of day before
and fluctuating daylight.

Started somewhere between
hopelessness and despair,
my heart cannot change
just keeps repairing
bad weather.

Fragments of my sleep
knocked around by boulders
on uncontrolled thoughts,
rural roads of national disgrace,
I can’t cry like I used to.

Indoors/Outdoors

21^st July 2013

#4 Indoors/Outdoors

Is that a red in your room? Is that my book?

The sky and the antenna – they spoke to each other. They talked about signals and reflections.

Is there a spot on the ceiling? A month of dampness and many more.

Aeroplanes and flying people hover around. They circle my terrace.

Is that the corner of your eye which caught the mirror unaware?

Flying people jump out of the craft and land on both feet. My roof feels so heavy.

Beyond a point of no return, the ceiling feels the stretch. Are you still on the last page?

Antenna explodes. Too much information.