Ouroboros makes a perfect circle
A snake and its tail ,chewing itself.
A perfect circle of skirt poet wore
Will come back to her in evening.
She stands in the plains of sunset
Arms raised to the infinity of sun
Who always ate himself off in tail,
A sorrow we carry to our sunset.
(reading a poem Evening Sun by poet Jane Kenyon)
Experience strikes as the wind
As gust or at times as a breeze
That rustles in autumn leaves.
Of course leaves drop to floor
But make an earth opalescent
In footsteps of poetry leaving.
The sea by me is much different
Against variable sky of yesterday
The particular sky it is holding up
Along with butterfly catamarans.
The sea is set in great sky in me
As variable entity in its vastness.
A body of a woman is memory
Of champaka flower on pillow.
Body turns a champaka in tree
That you pluck in God’s hilly air
Where breeze performs dance
In a fragrant champaka branch
And flowers wear colour of dawn
After rain in the champaka tree.
Between grandkid and grandma
There is other face looking down-
A green mother role of a goddess
In paint, puts on a maternal face.
Baby’s goddess mom’s face hates
A grandma’s loving goddess face .
She prefers to monkey-love baby
With no old face poking between.
Old men love the sea in its sky
With fish in it ,not in stomachs.
They love girls too, outside sea
They are frisky like fishes alive.
Not as they love and elope with
Fish boys cruel in the stomachs
Who abandon them like catch
Trapped in the nets helplessly.
Pebbles are from deep inside sea
But disappear quickly into waves.
They sit by the beach goers’ litter,
Plastics soullessly lying on beach.
Today I am bound down by them
Till they vanish into sea’s oblivion
Or till sea disappears in oblivion
After I enter my night of oblivion
Had it not been for rough edges
I might remember them for ever.