Film, Art & Design – Bharat Sarwaiya
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.