Saturday, 24 August 2013

Home Alone


Lizards throw scurrying
Shadows, the walls stretch endless
They have far to go.


We seek redemption
Or something close to it, at
Street corners, all alone.


The slow crawl of hours
The creeping minutes of night
The long wait to dawn.

Monsoons Arrive

Musty smell
Of mossy sheen, like
Another skin

Growing, over
Nights and days, monsoons
Arrive, late.

Wednesday, 21 August 2013

The Memory Book

This landscape of memory,
And the portrait of one
Posing forever, frozen
In some sepia world;
The margins cleared
Of remembered words,
A text of desire paginated
Into an easy understanding
Of the wise ways of the world,
Hard-bound now against
The despoiling of time;
Crisp pages, each
Chaptering new moments
Whirled in continuum
Of infinite whiteness
And traces of ink
Scribbling away
New lines about
Old die-hard tales.

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