A shape cuts through a sleep
By twin hillocks like a rabbit
Scampering away from fear.
Fear was shape like a snake
Crossing our paths in hillock
With creeper in rock crevice
Crawling upon a recent rain
From a skin empty after fear.
Fear was a shape of son talk,
His words vaporized in tree
In wind that swayed a baby
Like mother’s love, in bricks
She carried , on a cloth head.
Mom carried bricks like fear
On a cloth ring on her head.
A fear about baby son’s fall
Swayed a tree’s cloth swing
In sleep, a shape called son.
You are mixed up on almond
Where there is entire history
Of words in leaves open now,
As maroon ones will fall later.
You are in yearly November
To prove to be alive to world
With the sophisticated poem
To pinch yourself , still alive.
On that beach ,was someone,
A needless duplicate of other.
Crow was duplicate of turtle
Cawing at dawn to wake sea,
That is a duplicate yesterday.
Death is a needless duplicate.
That ship duplicated a China.
Its men duplicated under sky,
God duplicates men and sky.
Men duplicate Him in the sky.
All things are writable about
While heart yet brags a beat.
It is still writable about, says
Plath who wrote everything.
The heart’s brag confirms it.
Heart yet brags about a sun
With a sea that pushes it up
Every morning ,like routine.
In that window, it is routine.
Cancer has heart that brags
That it still owes sun its fall.
But heart still beats a drum.
There was creeper in hill crevice
Greedy for sun in the wild world.
We thought sun went on for ever
For words to bloom on morning.
A camera would watch shadows
As our shadow stretched for ever.
We are thinking this and all this.
This saxophone is just Kenny’s G.
Saxophone was thinking all over.
Let a music go on for ever by sea.
Sea’s music would go on for ever
But life would not go on for ever.
We are thinking ,this and all this.
A thinking will stop some where.
A song will have to stop for next.
A stopping would go on for ever
When next would go on for ever.
A sea’s waves would roll for ever.
We are thinking this and all this,
Till stopping will go on for ever.
Hope you enter dark MRI tunnel
Not to come out as if sun has set
And you will wake up, randomly,
And the same sun rises upon sea
As if the interstice never existed.
And MRI machine is continuum,
As tunnel in a world’s backyard
And death comes out of a tunnel
As if an interstice never existed
In all your page’s disappearance
Poem is random act of kindness.
And sun disappears like a page.
Soon there will be another page
Opening as suddenly on the sea
As if there is method in all this.
On our pilgrim backs lie questions
We carry up a God’s hill, to deposit
Like they are plastic water bottles,
To drink from and throw way side.
On hill’s top is mountain of bottles
Waiting to destroy our emptiness,
As if there may be rain from trees
For answers to sprout , like seeds.