20 Dec 98 | New clothes shaped like fog

When it drops its seeds [like clumsy rain drops] onto a womb, spraying like meteorites,
And hands covered with white cotton, protecting your sunrays from freezing.
Wait here, for it to photograph you… standing out there….
Losing air in front of everyone.
When it breaks these silent, empty strings of this web shaped green insect,
Like angry ants, gathering around its tiny, white egg, making silly, dumb gestures.
Its yellowing ray, enters this room of leaves, opening out…
       To eclipse the hidden black ghost…
                 Where freezing cold wind is making it to burn out empty handed.

18 Mar 99 | Mix

Puffed, green leaf mosquito, rusting loudspeaker fins tailing over my eyebrows…
ringing red in your empty, rainy shed of clumsy dreams.
               A silent little walk with skeletons left behind;
mustard gesturing trees in folding beautiful arms over me,
with flowers from inside of the resting coffins.
              Wet brick red street, reflecting gray little clouds,
white school trees,
empty music box picture mobiles hurled up the ground above…
mixing with sleepy fumes.
              Sleek strings of a blouse, unbuttoned shirt,
drying fan… with all wet men below  …
reviewing your references.

16 Mar 99 | Measurements: Darkening layer of wax

Dark shuttle discolored whitening eyeballs with unfortunate syllabus of wordless game.
Reading this readymade poem in reflections like shimmering apron…
 revolving around your head.
Green P.V.C sleeve, knotted around your ankle
with pots returning from space over your unbuttoned sleek book.
Snoring departure songs,
Sliding glass windows, Hot, noisy turbines… getting sweaty results…
of voices recorded over this drawing board…
and I’m boring and always “ready to wear” and sleeping here…
to catch hold you…
for forever.

13 Nov 97 | Trees with laser sharpened edges: The box of beautiful lie

I was about to reach the top of that tree. At that moment I saw him,
helplessly trying to snatch hold my feet. He was shouting harshly without
noticing the engulfing fog. I took deep breaths,
as it was getting freezing cold and clutched tightly to the branch.
He couldn’t catch me. Instead fog, with its thousands of tiny,
cold droplets surrounded him. Little sounds ceased and I remained motionless.
    The white steam cleared away in seconds…
and his body fell over the slippery ground like some wet blanket.
He had a warm smile, and his eyes reflected the towering old trees surrounding us.
     Rainwater started washing him away.
I remained clinging to that tree, freezing blue with dry fear.

14 Dec 97 | Delighted

God dared to mask everyone.
He now faces the consequences.

20 Dec 97 | Handbag

Glowing blue flower in his palms, unfolding blue broken ribs.
Dark filaments dangling by its ambient color.
He said:
     ” This is beautiful… but my blisters are opening.
I can not hold it any longer…. It hurts.”
   And handed him the blue thing. He then rubbed his palms together…
white powdered smile eroding from his skin.
Dark skyline was cornering the black rain clouds…
spotting out places to rain. He stepped a bit closer to him and said:
      ” Well?”
               He then paused for a while and looked down at his buckled shoes.
He grabbed his tiny white hands inside his huge rough clutching palms,
looked around for a moment and whispered:
      ” Bags for hands shouldn’t be invented… right?”
    Boy’s eyes were filled with raindrops. Salesman walked away
with his usual heavy carry bag full of odd ‘blue’ things.
People opened out their windows to the spraying heavy rain.
But nothing was happening.
             Sun was uncovering its face.

26 Nov 97 | God’s shoes

Iron tree rotating furiously, looking like an ‘unfocussed’ stirring noise,
just so as waiting for him to walk.

25 Nov 97 | Death

“You must know that you had escaped the fall of life
and that’s why the silence escapes you in return.
           So listen… don’t fall anymore.
“He stood motionless, facing my blank face, not understanding anything.

14 Jun 99 | Pages of jars and bottles

Pretty looking objects, unheard song lines, month of March,
Cages, electricity, pause.
Smash in your wicked thoughts.
How do you sleep through empty nights?
How do you dress every morning?
Can you remember anything?
Are you still naked?
Are you stiff?
Are you cracking?.. or soft?…or red?
…or polished like marble?
Are you safe like everybody?
Are you hiding something?
Can this ever happen again?
               This is neither chapter of inquisitions,
nor any game people play.
Thank you.

22 Jun 99 | Playing king

…. Then he went about his usual manner of stroking his neck.
Separations were ready on his desk.
He clicked a few times, corrected some spellings and
stroked his neck again. Surveillance video was tracing him,
focusing over his hands, zooming on to his nails.
       He stroked again and typed:
A Lion, behind a green pocket,
getting parcel packed,
licking fifteen samples of sweets alongside marching boots,
rubbing down sugary, fading faces.
All this is better than you are.
                     _ Your dumb ass.