Piano and guitar playing light songs
soft tape, fresh rain, streets oblique
christmas lights on her walls like she
lives in a dorm, eucalyptus smelling
fresco paintings with 666s on them
bring on the full Fall, dim cars
outside and their alarms or engines
in the pause of our sleepy conversations
we go in deep when we’re satisfied with
the noise we’ve made

never meant to fight ya
now that you're gone
i know why i hated when
everything felt right
because when i was with you
i couldn't help but lip bite
for all the wrongs and bruises
in a blue bedroom alone
back to feeling nothing
not even the sweet sting
of a lip bite

She still is the greenest tree in absence,
              in my land of obliterated dreams,
the golden fruit my heart desired,
              still hangs there, a phantom limb,
my mind hibernates,under the shade of
                   the banyan tree of renunciation,
still my battle is fierce,Buddha path
                  or tempting fruit of unquiet desires.



ബോധി വൃക്ഷത്തിലെ കാമഫലം

എൻറെ മായ്ച്ചുകളഞ്ഞ സ്വപനങ്ങളുടെ ഭുമിയിൽ
അഭാവത്തിലും പച്ചച്ച മരമാണവൾ
എന്റെ ഹൃദയം  മോഹിച്ച സുവർണഫലം
ഒരു 'ഭൂതാവയവം'പോലെ അതിൽ
ഇപ്പോഴും തൂങ്ങിക്കിടക്കുന്നു !
നിരാസത്തിന്റെ ആൽമരത്തണലിൽ
എന്റെ മനസ് ഹേമന്തനിദ്രയിൽ.
ഇ പ്പോഴും എന്റെ പോര് തുടരുന്നു ;
ബുദ്ധ പാദം പിന്തുടരുകയോ ,
അശാന്ത മോഹങ്ങളെ തേടിച്ചെന്നു പുണരുകയോ?
(MALAYALAM translation)

Fana no iro Fa
uturi ni keri na
itadura ni
waga mi yo ni Furu
nagame sesi ma ni


The colour of this flower
Has already faded away,
While in idle thoughts
My life goes by,
As I watch the long rains fall.

Doesn't my mind and soul
Deserve all the attention
That you give to my
Body?

She is beautiful, with her hair in disarray. She sets man against man, woman against woman, and both against each other

She whispers into the ear of sleeping children, who awake as adults in her service.

All fear her, for she cannot be known.

She masquerades as order, enticing humanity; the fire that huddled neanderthals gaped at in thanks become the flames that consume.

To fight against her is futile, but it is in our nature.

She has never left us; she will continue without us when we are dead and gone.

All the monuments in the world bow to her in worship or are crushed in submission to time and war.

She played gods and men alike.

She is both the catalyst and the conclusion.

Some marvel as the fires of her destruction dance reflected in their eyes; others weep.

To say that she is coming would imply that she has ever left.

How could we impermanent things ever hope to banish something so primordial.

She breeds hate, mistrust, and strife in those that capitulate; those that resist her only magnify her power.

She bore Hardship and Ruin, Quarrels and Disputes, Lies and Oaths, Anarchy and Starvation,  Forgetfulness and Pain. Manslaughter and ****** were her giggling toddlers. War and Battle took after her brother, their uncle's favorites.

She brings inedible food that is coveted by all who encounter it.

She has bathed in the blood of civil wars, her most decadent vice.

She renders man's efforts futile, to fight or submit is destruction.

She will reduce the universe to an ever expanding hellscape of fire.

She is the secret joy of many.

Nothing will escape her.

She is everywhere.

"She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."

~Shakespeare, from 'Macbeth'