Thursday, June 21, 2007

While Girls Dance

While girls dance
And boys repair toys
While boys play
And girls play boys
While pigeons laugh
And stars fall rolling
While moms smile
And buddies come calling
While moons rise
While friends win
While trees grow
While dads sing ..
Oh yes, you can live those
And find on your own
That God doesn't like prose
And whenever he is all alone
He takes these times
(The recipe is a mystery -
May be just adds rhymes)
And (wow!) creates poetry

I introduced a lawn in a short Hindi poem earlier, and later translated it into English. The same lawn is the inspiration behind this work. For the record, I am a non believer. Still, I wonder if the creator takes a break every evening at 6pm just to watch kids play in that small lawn.

Friday, June 08, 2007

Love

The worst it does
Is it gives you dreams
And kills them all.

It lets you paint
An imagination,
It gives you colors you never knew were
It lits all shades of desire afire;
And then it reveals reality
- The only color ashen,
And laughs at the look on your shocked face
Slowly stealing away the desire to desire.

The best it does
Is it breaks your heart
And takes away hope.

It holds your hands
And whispers it's OK
No happy no sad, no life no death
A simple solution to a complex problem.
Between tears and sighs
For you - it finds a way
It gives you a shoulder to cry and cries
And leaves you wise, though a lot more lonesome.

Love, like all other illusions
Begins and lives
As that which it is not
As that which it never was.

Love, like all other illusions
Begins and lives
As that which it is not
As that which it never was.