2018

The hour is nigh. The cuckoo jumps out From a wooden clock, and makes merry.  I too jump out of bed, hoping That this year, would be a little cuckoo, Madder than I ever imagine, Like that toy wound in the back, That goes speeding on The polished floor, or maybe a hummingbird Whose wing-speed…

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Our Daughter

I’m the package, If I had a six pack and biceps and triceps, But I’m not, I’m no gym freak Or someone who wants to be Mr Universe Or for that matter Mr Sri Lanka. I’m just a normal guy, who Only wants my woman to see me, Through the lens of a fairy tale…

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Michelle

You look at her doing some art In bed with her Samsung Galaxy minitab. She is in a world Of her own, in a skimpy pair of shorts, And a brown-beige top. And I’m afloat in sight, the light Waves undulating through the vacant Space, carving open a dominion Along her contour lines. Suddenly She…

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A Valentine’s Day Poem 2

  The empires we built With hand, heart and lips And the one room we couldn’t fill With the confluence of my little passengers To your little planets And in our twilight we will look back Fondly at our crumbling exteriors And wonder why A little tumbling ball of cells Was beyond any sky or…

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You Are Beautiful

I don’t know all the possibilities Of a wine glass. They are random Carved into chance; serendipity to snake eyes. And still when I take a wine glass In my hand, and sip her a little My fickle lips become steady To your firm contact.

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Eternity

Forever is a syndrome Of little packages of features They say become reality-prone Affection is the primal primer That makes the infinity thread Kindle at the right speed, slow in effacement Time, a factorial; claustrophilia, the essence And through the magnifying glass Of trust, you tread on a keyhole holding A telescopic lens to longevity,…

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A Tea Bag (to Michelle)

I see you in a tea bag, diffusing out Like silver mists fogging my path of sight I’m the water that needs your mahogany A watery transparent world as empty As the obsolete color in me. And you slowly enter through my cracks The hydrogen atoms that are joined To oxygen in imperfect configurations. And…

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37

I’m a scientist Bridging theory with practice The quadrants of Bohr With that of Edison and in-between Pasteur I draw shapes of bacteria Sketch filaments of fungi and Anabaena And fill hovering mind-spacecrafts With some wondrous jet-fuel And in my quest to be practical – and empirical I was 37 and single as a unicellular…

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Unpretty (To My Wife – Michelle)

I chose to be unpretty To be a leper than to be belonged As I carried my idiosyncrasies and inadequacies For all to see, in the nakedness Of my paltry self – the pauper in me! I chose to be unpretty To be an ember and not a jewel Yet fire kindled on my body…

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