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Showing posts from October, 2005

My Ode to Joy

Sing! Sing a song of joy
A song of truth and beauty!
A song of love
A song of hope
A song for eternity!

A song of the galaxies
A song across the oceans!
A song of light
A song of peace
A song forever in in motion!

A song for the rainbow
A song for the flowers
A song for a million heavens!

A song on your lips
A song in your heart
A song that makes you happy!

A song of forgotten sorrow
A song for the future unknown!

A song for the laugh of a child
A song for the sparrow's twitter.

A song of dreams
A song of friends
A song to go around the world.

Sing! For the joy of life
And sing it loud and clear!

(To the tune of "An die Freude")

delhi

you seek to maim
my body
with a thousand cuts
until
it breathes no more
cut here cut there
cut my heart
my liver my hands
cut anywhere
i shall grow again
fresh renewed
and leave
no trace of the scar
cut cut again
go on cutting
till your hand pain
and yet it shall be futile
I am eternal
I know pain
and suffer
but that is all
I am beyond death
and pain is but
illusory
an ephemeral burn
it singes me no more
go on cut
cut cut cut
and i will grow
grow grow grow

you cut cut cut
i grow grow grow

To my Newborn Daughter

Little bundle in my arms,
Your pink little face,
Asleep, Vulnerable, Innocent,
Drives me to tears;
And emotions beyond description.

As I hold you,
I fall into a reverie –

Diaper changes, Baby baths,
Pink dresses and paranoid wife.

Toddler days and teddy bears,
Crawling, standing, falling down,
Those first steps;
Camera poised to record
those fleeting landmarks.

Schooldays: A tearful face,
dimpled cheeks pinched cruelly
by o-cho-chweeters;
Leaky water-bottle,
Sandwiches given to the crows,
A bewildered nursery teacher
And mother bent over A-B-C.

Fights with those rough boys
For the playground swing,
Daddy dearest will beat them up
And my little doll remain unhurt,
Only her spirit a little bruised.

Adolescence:
Tampons, boys and pimples;
Those giggles
Those looks of shyness
Awkward days for daddy.

Young lady about town
Dashing admirers
Phone calls, flowers,
Paranoid papa.

The coy bride,
Copious tears, Silk sarees.
A deep unsaid apprehension
That some young man
Is losing his freedom.

Pesky grandchildren
Running all over my hous…

Greetings to a Giant

To Anchises
first Roman;
To Titan straddling
twinned worlds
of fancy and fact
that pride
in splendid isolation
ignorant of the force
entwining their fates;
To Atlas, bearer of weight;
To Aristophanes of the
cloud-cuckoo land;
To Nabokov of Lolita
and the butterflies;
and to that Alexander
who claims the province
of the spoken phrase
in his domains:
A bounty of words,
an embarassment of riches
of sweetness and light,
the harvest of stars
and the pageant of life!