Category Archives: City

aranya

leaves crackle underfoot. Fumes of wet earth spiral upwards into the translucent moondust; twilight rain’s afterthought. the saxophone breath of the night. soft rustle of foreboding. the forest begins to stir. sleep leaves the eyes of trees in little dew … Continue reading

Posted in #poemaday, aranya, City, forest, hmmm, It is written, Lou, nature, night, Prosepoetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

music

music should deliver you from yourself. it should be like swiping a chord in nostalgia’s shop, and buying eternity for a moment. the earth of our very being should shake and beauty should slip into the crevice of our tired … Continue reading

Posted in ananth, beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, It is written, Music, nasha, night, poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Meenakshi

Fish eyes. like a leaf. stillgreen. lithe. imploring. a misty morning caught in a gaze. watching. the secret in their eyes. I’m in the great hall. It’s the sorting . A feather falls from the ceiling and gets submerged in … Continue reading

Posted in beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, Gothamisation, I Quote, It is written, Lou, nasha, night, nostalgia, picture abhi baaki hain mere dost, the apocalyptic real, why? | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

make way poet

there are words. and there are words. and there are the oiled limbs of inflection that snake through the imagination of a tumbling scape. A madman taps on the door of my mind and brings to me the universe wrapped … Continue reading

Posted in beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, I Quote, It is written | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Rapporteur

I’ve watched black rain sow its seeds in fields of tarpaulin. pollinate the slum roofs with the manna of kali’s blood. and the angry gods in them come laughing out of blue urchin tongues. poverty’s a bitch, yo. I’ve watched … Continue reading

Posted in ananth, Atyachar, beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, Gothamisation, middle class mithya, night, One Bad Day, traffic, vignettes, why? | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Midnight Local

City’s courier carrying good news into tomorrow – resting commuters        

Posted in Bombay, City, Could be verse, Gothamisation, hmmm, I want to ride my bicycle, night, One Bad Day, poetry, the apocalyptic real | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

the hook beside the fan

the hook beside the fan runs incarnadine like your eyes turning red with the green smoke of memories masquerading as dance in our paranoid conversations in our soot black minds our black tongues magnified on walls with kites that hold … Continue reading

Posted in ananth, beauty, Bombay, City, Could be verse, epiphany, hmmm, I want to ride my bicycle, It is written, kaha gaye woh din, Lou, Music, nasha, night, nostalgia, picture abhi baaki hain mere dost, poetry, the apocalyptic real, vignettes | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment