School bus

A yellow bus goes by a self motion
Steered by its fatalistic bus driver,

Tiny school children are in the bus,
Going to rote multiplication tables

And A for Apples and P for Planet.
Their voices rise like the bee hum.

A driver fatalistic about school bus
Is one-up take on a school system.


We would see the priest dance
A camphor’s flame around God

Lighting our God’s smiling face
And the bell would ring hollow

And a fragrance of God’s smile
Would rise on camphor’s death.

Our God would smile in hollow
From metallic variations of bell

To the dying flame of oil lamp,
A falling fever of bell’s tongue.

Empty light

Stomachs keep their thunders
And empty light in their skies.

Son has to crawl up to the sky
And say his mama and names

Holding his wall’s white alone.
But all the while,a night stares

Empty light stares unfinished,
At a piece of boom from night.


I find myself contradicting .
I am a little too small now
And I forget what I say big

Whatever I say I just forget
What I contained in a past.
I forget my old multitudes.

And I forget I am the same
Bumbling contradicted self
A little small from old self.


Feelings are lizards less tongue-tied
And they stick out tongues in open.

In wilderness we are tongue-open.
Words fly in the wilderness at a sky

That hangs precariously on all of us.
In a wilderness we stick out words

Like bush lizard sticks out tongue
To catch its meanings at random.

Poetry of silence

I and the body, we have come together.
You know , I distance myself from body.

But now I and body are coaxing poetry
To happen in parks, on roads, bus stop

Between men from each other’s silence.
We fill canvas with images and poetry.