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