what i know

i know that clear nights are colder than cloudy nights
and days are warmer than nights and summer nights
shorter than winter nights and
it is the sun that lights the day and the moon
waxes and wanes
i know that rain
falls like apples and leaves in the autumn
i know humans are two-legged creatures
and that the earth's gravity
prevents us from falling
and flying

i have perceived these, i have built my life around
knowing what i think into existence
but who will prove the world to me
even as i see it
or myself

i can fly
q.e.d.

ಸಣ್ಣ ನೆನಪು (ಈ ಕ್ಷಣವೇ)

ಎಲ್ಲಿದ್ದಿ, ಹೇಗಿದ್ದಿ
ನೀನು. ಈ ಕ್ಷಣವೇ
ನೆನಪಾಯಿತು
ಕಣ್ಣು, ಮುಖ.
ಒಳಗಿನಿಂದ
ನಿನ್ನ ಸ್ವರ
ನೆನಪಾಯಿತು
ನೋಡು.
ಎಲ್ಲಿದ್ದಿ ನೀನು,
ಮಳೆ ಬೀಳ್ತಾ ಇದೆ.

trost

barfuss tröste ich mich darüber hinweg
dass der sommer
bald geht dass das land am geschlossenen fenster
vorüberzieht dass das wasser den fluss hinab
fliesst ich könnte die hand hineinhalten
wäre da nicht
das geschlossene fenster
müsste ich nicht
weiterziehen
verginge die zeit
nicht

und bliebe ich immer barfuss
die blossen füße
im fluss

[august]

stockrosen, sonnenblumen
obstbäume.
haferfeld, weizen.
nickende köpfe quadratmeterweise.
auf abgeernteten feldern
glänzt das stroh
spinn, spinn, mariechen, spinn
alles stroh zu gold
alles gold zu stroh
keine spur von garben
das einzige gold
die liegengebliebenen halme
und stoppelacker
regenfänger

[untitled]

bei sonnenaufgang fand ich die zeit
wie der tau an den grashalmen sitzen
kostbarer als der augenblick
nur die sonne

augenblickslicht

erschöpft schlafe ich über den buchstaben
ein die musik geht zuende du stehst
auf und bläst behutsam
die kerze
aus

deine zärtlichkeit nimmt mir
den atem

ich sehe dich an deine stetige
flamme das licht im dunkeln
im innern
das herz

untitled (summer 1)

by july, the wind stretched the clouds so thin
that we started to believe in summer & blue skies
what was left of the clouds was torn into fragments
of the finest lace
only drawing our eyes
to the immaculate beauty
beyond our wildest dreams

keepsake: precious stone

forgive me. let it be.

from hardened tears i cut

this precious crystal

which light to break into a rainbow

i do not know. threading

black beads. tying years

around my neck.

around my wrist the bangle breaks –

blood. no pain. to keep.

thumri

das leben zerbricht
wie ein tonkrug
auf meinem kopf
er trifft mit den scharfkantigen
steinen immer
sein ziel
das wasser rinnt an mir herab
nass kleben die kleider an meinem
leib, ich fröstele
will die scherben
aufsammeln
doch dieser krug
wird sich nicht mehr
zusammenfügen lassen
ich bringe nichts mit heim
wie sollte ich auch
die wasser der yamuna

juniregen

nach dem juniregen finden
wir den himmel in pfützen
schlaglochweit im kopfsteinpflaster
hängend an zweigen
laub und blütenständen

am abend hängen wir unsere tränen
hinzu und nehmen den himmel mit
heim.

the end of the world

and the day passes
the world has come to an end.
we sift through the rubble
to find
what is left of us
an arm, a leg, an eye
tomorrow let us look
for precious stones

i wait

i wait
for the late sleepers
to wake

i wait
and see the world breathe in
the early sunlight

i sit alone
veiled
in the sacred silence of the day
i hold my breath

no wind, no bird to sing, to break the stillness
– none, not even i

to wait
for the late sleepers
to break

apart the remnants of the night
and breathe for me, to sing
i sit in silence
still

forget-me-not

before i go i should like
to send postcards
polite little notecards
saying "goodbye"
before i go i should like
to send
seeds of forget-me-not
see,
even in despair
i cannot let go of hope
the hope of breaking out
into flower
even if it was
a posthumous bloom

(vor)frühling

sternenstaub
schneeflocken
blüten-
     blätter
einander auffangen
flüchtiges festhalten
das unmögliche
dich.

waiting for the pot to break

this pot continues to go
to the well, drawing water
every day
until it breaks
it breaks
this pot
is already cracked
it hardly holds
the water
look at all the cracks
wait
for it to break

a spell

i walk into the clouds
the setting sun illuminates,
casts shadows,
casts spells
over the playground
and the house
just for the night.
my house is empty.
nowhere to go
but the clouds.

the clarity of spring evenings

spring days end.
descending into clarity
a calm out-breath
into a starry night

summer evenings breathe out longer still.
in winter, dusk is day-long, and darkness deeper
after which we now wait for the blackbird
to breathe sweetness
into the day's end

and the blossoms to open
the leaves to unfold to green the trees
by morning.

untitled (who will)

who will caress
the wonders of this spring
plant fleeting memories of kindness
in this broken soil
and hold the birdsong
in his palm

post-illusion

to stop chasing clouds,
to give up dreaming
to grow up
from illusion
break through
to reality
give up
hope

untitled [metta1/the love of children for their mother is greater than the love of the mother for her children]

having lost it
i pick up the pieces
time and time again
i cut myself on the sharp edges
of my voice raised too loud
i hit myself with the fist
of my anger
time and time again
i patch up the wounds
trying to heal the scratches
of unkindness
mending the broken bones
of trust
seeking forgiveness,
i know that your eyes
teach me all i need to know
about love

the house close to the sea shore

i have built my house close to the sea shore,
i have built my house close to the sea
i have built my house close to the water's edge

the water tears at the sea shore
the sea tears at the walls
the tears leap at the heart's edge
the tears leap at the walls

bring down the house
i have built
too close
to the
water

[Bangalore 3]

on the temple's blue floor
pradakshina around the sanctum
crushing ants with naked feet
thinking only of god, or what's weighing
on our minds. heavy
feet, unthinkingly
crushing creatures
on the blue stone floor

another ant scurries to her sister who
writhes in pain, legs groping in slow motion
on the blue stone floor
does she feel pain, and the other, panic
she seems to move anxiously
around her half-crushed sister, seems to
want to carry her in her front legs like a mother
carrying her baby–

in my arms i hold
the ant's pain, and i put it before the god,
he returns it, a flower for my hair

the ants still scurry across
the blue stone floor
other feet carry heavy hearts
around the sanctum
pain
the cessation of pain

prasad.

Bangalore walk

1.
i took a walk, and found night
falling.
like a curtain across the city´s stage
and day retreated
to the wings. this happened silently
like the bats hunting between walls
the city´s sounds continued

i took a walk, and found night
blossoms
falling
from a flowering tree.


2.
days come and go.
night fell again
from the flowering tree.

the closer colours [Bangalore 2]

this: to the closer colours
to the immediacy of life & death
the warmth permeating this white skin

life entering through the open windows:
sounds and song,
the closer colours

untitled [Bangalore 1]

i have not worn flowers
in my hair and your eyes
elude me. the inner
sanctuary is closed.
i hide the lock with
strands of jasmine.
leaving that doorstep
i turn to colour,
then dust
under your feet.

the light is failing us again

we get up eventually

after we have fallen

and every morning

figuratively, we take another step

foward

into a random direction

this is just another journey

hey hey happy b-day

graffiti says it better

from a train window

the world lies still

taking another step

forward

there is no purpose

to the movement of the cars

or sheep

all moving into the same

random direction

all these lives

it is all the same

under the broken clouds

the light is failing us again

sentiment (birthday)

still. not. dead. she remembers her mother
today like sunshine through glass,
so much warmer. amazed to have been born
to be alive to have given birth
like the sunshine. like the air
limitless.
like the sea
unbounded. love flows
through the passing years
through mothers and children
from amazement to gratitude
still. alive.

untitled (winter poem, Bromley House)

on winter afternoons
the sun sets on the underbellies of pigeons
as they rise over city roofs
a sun-dial sleeps in the shade of brick walls
covered thickly with naked-flowered jasmine
nobody steps out into the garden
to find the hour has not come
or long passed
nobody rises with the pigeons
nobody sets with the sun
sleeping by the sun-dial
the hour came and passed
long ago the naked-flowered jasmine
covered the brick walls

walking towards dusk

from the top of the hill
dusk walks towards me
in his uncle's new shop
a young man does push-ups
1-2-3 –
the uncle catches my gaze
he smiles across the empty shop
glass separates us –
in a different part of town
my eyes wander to the naked torso
of a man by the poolside
before the blinds are closed

nobody caught me
staring at the moon
i lower my eyes
hurrying to pick up the stars
one by one

vor dem fenster

wie gänsehaut
huschen die geräusche des vormittags über die kühle haut
vergeblich streiche ich die falten glatt
mit den augen
fange ich meisengezwitscher
lege es zu gras und zweigen
streiche die feuchte erde von hier nach dort
schon ist er fort
vor dem fenster
bleibt der winter rau

anyway, i wonder

monday morning, on the way to school,  our car is the colour of the morning sky when the sun shines, a police car drives past, we all stop at a red light, the sun in our faces, on the back seat a youth, handcuffed –
hurry child into school room, she runs off, her boots are still damp from yesterday's walk, she only has this pair of shoes for winter, her wellies are at school, it is not for want of money, there is just no room in our heads for children's shoes, what size does she wear anyway –
on the way back, a purple bus is getting towed from a bus stop, monday morning, i wonder where the people went, and what happened –
in the centre of the next roundabout hangs a red car, wheels in the dark, soft soil of the flower bed, i catch police notices in the window, the same red colour as the car, it is somewhat faded, that red, was it there when we drove down, that car, will it be there when we –
no. hoping to be in time for pick-up, the sun somehow is no longer shining

[work in progress]

Schneezauber

Der Schnee zieht Sehnsuchts Blicke auf
sich, Kindheitsaugen
Blicke treiben vor dem Fenster
Gedankenlautlos
der Zauber: nicht Schlafen. Sonst schwindet das weiße
Gewinter, schon damals ein seltenes Traumbild.

Hinausziehen, unter die Straßeneckenlampe. Und weiter.
Augenblicks Schnee unter den Schuhen.

the day's frozen moment

waiting for nightfall
the day a frozen moment in the sky
the sun a broken record, stuck
the same song (silently to sing)
over
and over
and darkness does not come
before the moon, and morning
night will fall
and leave its mist
and honey in its wake

time: this dark water

time: this dark water
and your face a thousandfold
memory: your voice
and ripples on the surface of my day

the mirror of my night is deep
and silently my fingers close
around this precious pebble as it sinks

pebble, heart, ripples: unseen
memory is silent
dark water: time

fearlessness

my toes curled around the rock i stand
on the cliff's edge

surrounded by blue sky
i jump

still falling
my only fear
is of the fearlessness
of this act

stand
jump
fall

blue sky
fall

fall
no
fear