Silence
How can I live without you!
Without you
This night is utterly long
Nothing but deep silence
That speaks your name
And repeats it softly
Again and again
Yet a burning candle in the corner
Burns me within as well
Without you tonight
Eyes weeps calmly
And heart mourns quietly
yet this night
Speaks nothing but silence.
LAMB
ittle lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bade thee feed
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little lamb, I’ll tell thee;
Little lamb, I’ll tell thee;
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a lamb;
He is meek and he is mild,
He became a little child.
A child and thou a lamb,
We are called by his name.
Little lamb, God bless thee!
Little lamb, God bless thee!
CHILD OF 21ST CENTURY
He shall, he be,
The child of 21st century?
With a big, great head
Wheels for legs and guns for hands
Computer for a brain,
A machine for a heart
A nose with an oxygen mask
And eyes with a microscope.
With no sentiment nor emotion,
With no feeling of love...
Only feeling of hatred
Only thoughts of violence
With no care of humanity
With on thoughts of brotherhood.
Oh! How shall he be,
The child of the 21st century.
The Lama
Himself to wear his curse like an amulet...
I cannot say where he came from
Possibly, from beyond the tall
Mountains, from Tibet, past crevasses
And glacial scress, like a high
Stinging wind. The bells on his
Pack-mule tinkled. He shuffled along
Peddling borax, salt and gold,
A lion-maned, eagle-eyed lama.
He travelled down the gorges,
From the Jadh Ganga to Harsil.
The beauty of Bhaioghati
Poisoned his blood. He taught
Himself to wear his curse like an amulet.
We chanced upon him singing
Of fires that burn, snows
That numb. Seldom does he speak
Of that serpent that has
Seized his tongue.
Mountain-dweller, below you
Stretches a plain that asks
Nothing of you. The river that was
Always by your side shall flow,
While you till and sow, and having
Unlearned language, relearn the
Songs of Silence
You, Wystan Auden
Now six feet beneath the air...
Now six feet beneath the air
The Nordic shape of skull is bare
And behind the august frown
Worms have gorged on verb and noun....
The baffling lines that seemed to trace
Maps of care upon his face,
Now nothing between brow and chin
But maggots have tunnelled in....
And the hands whose fingers' ends
Once held the keys to common sense
And the truly careless wrist
Which cherubs have often kissed
Lie open now without prefence
That they enclose arguments
To shatter prison doors or shake
The steps of wisdom on the make...
The compassionate eyes which hate
Could not face and grew desperate,
Now bony voids where worlds once turned
In agony at being burned....
The heart that could some pity find
For every shape of human fiend
now less than dust, because from thence
No spring of friendship does commence....
Of all those works of lust and pain
No human fragment and remain
And all that foolishness is past
Yet our lives are still so vast...
And in that vastness since we speak
Strong words of love though we are weak
He cannot know something survives
The carrion bleaching of our lives.
Monument
A buffalo curled dead...
It stands immobile, Fender bent
around bulge, steel twined
into flesh, horn locked
into fender.
Both, supine. A buffalo curled dead
into a truck's dented front.
Woman With Amphora
The mysteries of fresh amphora...
Unpasting herself
from the deep
blue of the sky,
she rises
and walks gently
towards me,
bearing
on her head
on earthen jar
containing
the mysteries
of fresh amphora.
Her shadow
stretches
disappearing
into the blue,
then appears,
long and elegant
dreaming
of Giacometti,
Just as she comes
into focus,
she freezes
within
her tall frame
holding the thaw
of her contents,
the perfume
escaping
just enough
to make me
want more.
Digging
They once saddened and happied themselves here...
The soil I now pick
contains fragments of the dead.
They once saddened and happied themselves here
turning to the sun and moon, quite puzzled
then taking things as they came,
for granted. This is hard brown laterite
that I turn,
to plant a few bright periwinkles
stolen from the mound of one long obscure,
dead. They should grow well
here. So I turn out
the millipedes curling up
ashamed of the sudden expose
into dark ring stones of sapphire and topaz.
Pinned to sudden light they have all coiled up
in abject surrender. These things we bury back
with pushed up soil, crushing strange roots
going everywhere like soft nerve fibers,
sending messages of thirst to strange
destinations. Each scoop of mud
brings more life to light
lost like death underground
doing odd jobs, ordained like saints, salient
in dark recess drawing salary in kind.
Mud-work is a kind of work ship.
A silent thanksgiving for a home, called earth.
These are the things we could talk about
A Poem on Price Rising, a serious matter of country...
These are the things we could talk about
for instance; rising prices; inflation;
non-availability of food grains, things
we could build our theses upon; poor
children in the streets, hunger like acid
burning down their tongues, our country-
green fast disappearing, the morning sun
coming out from somewhere among the denuded trees
like love betrayed. Other things happened around us;
The cries of our women and children still fresh from
behind the cold walls
of partition. So much more.
The woods are lovely dark and deep.
But we would rather look away,
give a good to ransom, Quietly forget,
that bloody country with clipped wings
flying out of Nehru's hands.
Write Your Name Only
He is a gift of God...
Master, write---
Write your name only.
I tell the truth, I swear on Mumbai,
You write--
Look at the coils of his hair, master.
So much like a cobra hood, no?...
He is a gift of God, ....God
Master, when the earth heats up
Then it becomes, like, ripe.
But without putting the plough,
And sowing the seed,
Does the tree grow?
Does it? Tell!
Then how will my name do for father's name?
If the father is not there then how did
This boy happen?
Don't write the name of any God
Only of a man....
What have the Gods done?
They have not filled my stomach...
Write your name only.
Don't ask his caste.
We are not any one man's wife,
Master,
We are not women of the hearth
Who has that much luck?
His birth is of here only,
In this dawn he was born,
When my stomach slipped down,
No midwife, or anyone was there,
My heart was troubled,...but it was
Excited.
Touch boy
Touch the feet
Touch his feet
But write your name only.
Last Breath
Hold me now, I’m stuck in an earthquake
Hold me now,
I’m stuck in an earthquake
Hold me now,
I’m taking my last breath.
I don’t wanna die
But I’m just 8ft far from death.
I know it’s not too far
Still you can catch me.
Listen to my voice
Please come and catch me.
Save me now,
I’m stuck in an earthquake
Save me now,
Or I will have to meet death.
I have wasted so many days
But today I want to say many things before I die.
I want to say that I always loved you
I have spent sleepless nights dreaming of you.
I’m sorry for not paying enough attention
But I always cared for you.
I’m sorry for not expressing the love
That I should have expressed.
I want to tell you all this and more
And that is what I want to live for.
Just let me articulate my love for you
All the feelings old and new.
After that even death will besiege me
And an earthquake won’t be unpleasant to see.
But for now,
I’m stuck in an earthquake
Hold me now,
I’m taking my last breath.
The Camels of the Epiphany
Three brown camels came down the track
Three brown camels came down the track,
Under the shining star,
Each carried a king upon his back,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Caspar, king of Chaldea, sat astride,
Under the shining star,
Regal, noble and full of pride,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Melchlor, king of Pamphylia, sat,
Under the shining star,
Strong and fearless, a warrior great,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Balthazar, king of Ethiopia, came,
Under the shining star,
Kind and wise, he had great fame,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh.
At length they reached the stable small,
Under the shining star,
Mary had Jesus wrapped in her shawl,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Those camels humble, those camels brown,
Under the shining star,
Set their royal burdens down,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Royal kings and camels three,
Under the shining star,
Before baby Jesus bent their knee,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Pardon My Garden
Pardon my garden, it's vicious today!
Pardon my garden, it's vicious today!
The cucumber's going quite mad --
The onions and peas
Just do as they please,
The pumpkin is awfully bad.
The squash and the sprout are rushing about
As if they're preparing for war,
I just got a scare from a peach and a pear --
The apple is vile to the core!
Pardon my garden, it's vicious today!
There's tori-chori below.
The corn and the bean are having a scene --
That ghia just nibbled my toe!
That tomato and grape are aping an ape
And heading this way with a skewer --
And all because I fertilised
My garden with tiger manure.
The Armadillo's Dilemma
His armour was too thin! Sticks and stones bounced off his friends
Alfred Armadillo was a funny little thing,
He had a special problem
For his armour was too thin!
Sticks and stones bounced off his friends
While all they did was crouch;
But bruised and battered Alfred
Muttered "Ooh" and "Ow" and "Ouch."
He covered himself up with leaves
But that was not enough.
An armadillo's armour
Must be very, very tough.
He wouldn't fight a battle
For he knew only too well,
The slightest little jab
Would make a puncture in his shell.
Alfred thought he'd try to find
A different kind of home,
So, one day, he left his friends
And set off all alone.
He walked for weeks until he found
A place he thought would do,
And joined the many animals
Inside a splendid zoo.
Now in a cage so cozy
He can lie back on the straw,
And never have the worry
Of his armour any more.
Tattoo
My words on your skin
I could paint a poem
On your back
With a Chinese brush
And India ink.
And then, with a razor
Or pin or sliver of bamboo
And a stolen hotel towel
(to daub the blood
and excess black),
I could make it
Permanent.
I have seen this done
Before on television
And in movies. But
You would never allow
This violence of
Obligation, this enduring itch
Of commitment.
You could never abide
My words on your skin.
Two Little Dickie Birds
Little dickie birds, sitting on a wall
Two little dickie birds,
Sitting on a wall;
One named Peter,
The other named Paul.
Fly away, Peter!
Fly away, Paul!
Come back, Peter!
Come back, Paul!
The Firefly who lost his Light
Moon cast moonbeams all around, And saw poor Freddie on the ground
Freddie Firefly, late one night
Discovered he had lost his light.
And while the others danced about
He sat and cried, "My light's gone out!"
No one heeded Freddie's cry
As gaily they went flitting by.
Freddie sadly crawled along
And wondered where his light had gone.
The moon cast moonbeams all around
And saw poor Freddie on the ground.
She asked him why he fretted so,
And Freddie told his tale of woe.
"Don't worry," said the kindly moon,
"You'll get your pretty light back soon.
Just fly into the moonbeams' glow-
The light will stick to you," and so
Freddie did as he was told.
The moonbeam bathed him all in gold.
His light shone brightly in the sky,
Once more a proper firefly.
A little torch up in the air,
He danced away without a care.
Ten Little Fingers
Anonynous
Ten little fingers!
Ten little toes!
Two little ears!
And one little nose!
Two little eyes that shine so bright!
And one little mouth!
To kiss Mama Good Night.
Fancy Being Frightened of Me!
I’m a little white mouse
I’m a little white mouse—now don’t run away,
It really is puzzling, you see,
That same ladies faint, or scream, or jump
On a chair, at the sight of me!
I was traveling in young master’s pocket, one day,
Both having a ride in a bus—
When suddenly thought I’d take a look round,
But oh! What a bother and fuss!
From a gentleman’s hat, to a basket I popped,
Then on to a schoolboy’s cap—
I scurried along a lady’s muff,
While she was taking a nap!
Oh, how they all jumped, and so did I—
They made me nervous, they did!
Raising their voices, oh dear! Oh dear!
So back in that pocket, I hid!
As well, folk are odd, that’s all I can say,
And other mice, too, will agree—
Just fancy that people can get so scared
At something, as small as me!
The Firework Party
A rainbow of light makes night-time seem just like the day
It’s ever so bright—
A rainbow of light
Makes night-time seem just like the day.
The fireworks are lit,
And Teddybears sit
In a circle to watch the display.
A funny old guy
Is wearing a tie,
And a pelican perched on his hat.
Then squibs starts to pop
And body frogs hop
And jump with delight in the air.
A cracker or two
Jump into the blue,
And Billy goat’s just going to handle
The sparklers to see,
How bright they can be
When fixed to the big roman candle.
The bonfire’s alight
Throughout the long night,
And golden rain bursts with a shower,
The catherine wheel
Is caught by an eel,
And rockets whizz past every hour.
It’s ever so bright—
A rainbow of light
Makes night-time seem just like the day.
The fireworks are lit,
And Teddybears sit
In a circle to watch the display.
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