Mar 08, Juliet Mike rated it liked it. A compelling book, read in its entirety over the course of one evening.
Her grief is poignantly expressed- from the sense of unreality as events unfold on the other side of the world; to the see-sawing of hope that her husband is still alive and acceptance that he is dead; to the fury of shopping for baby equipment without her husband. The book conveys the raw pain of grief, the dark thoughts and torture, and where grief almost crosses to insanity. I know grief isn't a competition but I did feel she had it 'easy' on many counts!!! Giving birth at the Portland, living in a big house in Muswell Hill, a huge cast of family and friends, a full time maternity nurse for a year, 3 different bereavement counsellors, celebrity friends buying ALL her baby stuff.
It's almost a luxury to get through your grief in this style- many of us are also juggling terrible money problems, losing homes and being unable to afford to feed and clothe our children, never mind holidays.
- Quantitative Models for Performance Evaluation and Benchmarking: Data Envelopment Analysis with Spreadsheets.
- The Christopher Parkening guitar method: the art and technique of the classical guitar.
- 300 Rumi Quotes That Will Expand Your Mind (Instantly)!
- Hidden Treasures: What Museums Cant or Wont Show You.
The lack of money for most widows with young children is crippling and denies you the opportunity to climb out of your misery. The spiritual element - the dreams, the signs etc are an interesting element.
Funeral Poems & Readings
Not what everyone believes but I think those events are very thought provoking. This book actually deserves 5 stars. I do believe all the other coincidences, but this somehow bothered me. It would have meant even more if she only used it one time. Furthermore I think this is a very grippy story. You really start to feel for the main character an This book actually deserves 5 stars.
See a Problem?
You really start to feel for the main character and everyone who's around her. I would recommend this to anyone who likes "true-story" books or people who are going through a mourning period.
- Long Pet Loss Poems.
- Sheryl Sandberg: Option B and Life After Grief.
- The Blue Skies of Autumn!
- Solo female travel blog.
I read it in one day. I had tears in my eyes while reading. Not because it is sad all the time, but the way this author describes her journey of life. This book focusses on peoples strenght to overcome such a horrific thing. It was not commercial like i thought it would be.
The Best Rumi Quotes
That's absolutely NOT the case in this book! Elizabeth Turner writes in such an honest way that you just have to keep reading without making it too 'heavy'. I have much respect in how she coped with such a loss! A fast read. Nov 06, Annemieke rated it it was amazing Shelves: roman , read-in Jul 12, Chia Chin rated it liked it.
An honest, unpretentious account. Danielle Wills rated it liked it Oct 22, Nicola Bond rated it it was amazing Aug 27, Ifrah Waqar rated it liked it Mar 21, Markandmitch rated it really liked it Sep 24, Mrs V Haslam rated it it was ok Mar 30, Ali Binxie rated it liked it Sep 13, Inge rated it really liked it Feb 20, Dee rated it liked it Jul 20, Ilse rated it really liked it Apr 03, Karen rated it really liked it Jul 20, Liz Neville rated it it was ok Jul 16, Claire rated it liked it Apr 20, Belinda rated it really liked it Jan 08, Sonya Puri rated it really liked it Apr 26, Sheila MacLaren rated it really liked it Jun 16, Steph rated it really liked it Apr 12, Li Pin rated it really liked it May 29, Susan Cupples rated it it was amazing Jul 03, I couldn't find a charismatic guru so made the idol one and looked at the red face any time I needed help and guidance in the silence of my restless mind searched for love and life's purpose my ersatz faith couldn't give: the professional spirituals enraged the soul as I ran into the cave to come out of darkness tricksters encircled the exit steps I could feel the shadows spreading their wings my heart trembled at the shock of the ringing bell now I fear opening my eyes to the sun no iron hands could hold to burn the years' garbage How long can I grow without roots or make way for what is approaching in digital noises I can't be inheritor of arrant cowards smelling the arse on their fingers nor can I be the priest checking the burnt tongues to test criminals stiff with cold I'm tired of animal struggle for survival and last rites in candle light digging cursed treasure for night songs others croon I can't decipher names in smoke nor forget the faces emerging from the matrix of tremors that are islands to shackle feet in silence close the cycle of the waters that feed the sea I feel the lumps hinder and pain now it's time to break off and bury the ash in the earth and plant afresh foliage for rains or sun to nurse a destiny I could take pride in My years upon me keep me from finding myself in joys of love-making under a grove of trees or walking down to the stream for a swim together: the valley in grey brown is now a burden I must throw off before the woes of collapse I want to burn the fallen leaves but fear the flame will hurt the trees I can't stand the stench rains bring the backyard is too big to clean I can't rescue my habitat nor trim the trees for better light this all reflects the shambles made for disco of convenience why regret burial by taunting helplessness now?http://homeopathycalifornia.com/wp-content/nefemuwox/14078.php
Full text of "SENSE AND SILENCE: COLLECTED POEMS"
The earth won't wait for my dust nor the sky hold rains till I descend and someone places a stone to remind how I couldn't live my wild ambition and destiny couldn't leap to being I was not I wish I had the freedom to breathe a moment more or less but I live my ignorance each moment challenging myself it's no spiritual claptrap but a blind can't lead the blinds: my poems without body can't breathe the spirit I want to feel I watch a poem of silence in stone her dignity preserved like the eternal Taj I remember the white tomb of love I stood before and prayed for his grace when aloneness pierced the soul in search of mate intricate patterns appear and fade challenging mind we need a new key to the myth not spoken but felt in moments flapping between the hearts I seek images for my wordless experiences in loneliness commune for meaning in the world lessen lonesomeness for a moment and again suffer the same angst and frustration of failure in haiku silence The poet doesn't know when words become poetry or what he intends to say he just says what he says knitting together thoughts ideas, feelings and memories into a form which looks good at the first glance creating more meanings in readers' consciousness that each one sees different sense denying complete absorption yet thrilling the spirit so much that they read it again and again and be one with the poet Frazzled at the day's end when I smell her flesh she curses my knots and the two decades of living the same routine in kitchen and bed and nowhere to go in shameless convenience I release my tensions: she kicks my image in the little pool of blood and buries sex What is this world with PCs, internet, e-com robots and cloning the moon and mars remain lifeless as here without roads, power and house they dream I T satellites, aerospace and silence cries for water honest bread and peace the hungry billions seek no hi-tech slavery the global cheats promote liberal economy stealthily purvey rights and environment with politics of control doom the future They die of mother's milk and passions that flow in post- modernist exterior it's the same nature in a handsomer disguise the unchanging inside: sewing up the slashed sleeves we are where we were, or as Cowper said, an ancient in a different dress Her site spurts changes hands plead for a little more space to feel presence map out the concealed parts rehearse performances again and again Raising each child— a test of patience, learning each day to live and smile her innocence through aching arms and shoulders 8.
SEXLESS SOLITUDE It's all linked but I don't understand or don't want to understand because I am too much with me and worry about her dying libido and my own shrinking sex amidst salsa chill Bihu fever, Vishu rituals ringing emptiness day and night shake the age- wrapped youth for single-edge play in forked flame carve image of heaven to challenge the jealous God undo sins of races flowing in my blood: I love Him through the bodies He made but they don't understand redemption in churning and parting of the sea they don't rejoice the flames of henna on her palms nor let the lily bloom in the valleys use the clefts and cliffs to deface beauty and spike voices don't condemn me if I am not white the water still flows in my river My window opens to the back of a garage where guards make water at times show their dick to the maid in my kitchen: they care for none how can I complain if boys and girls make love in the bush between the children's park and my backyard?
She hears the voice of unrealized bliss in the coos of koel at the window sill this evening rains love and delight His message to meet at moonrise among the flowers sparkles a secret on her smiling face passion glows with charming fervour She is no moon yet she drifts like the moon, takes care of him from the sky — meets him for a short, waxing leaves him for a long, waning Before going to bed she looks too sad to have any sweet dream: the lonely lamp glints no love and no star peeks through the curtains Yearning to meet him she turns a silk-worm spinning love-silk in cold night — stands in a shade melting tears like a candle, drop by drop Stains of dried dewy tears on the eyelids tell of the load on her mind: clothed in spring the willow twigs reveal the changed relation Locked in the shadows of unrolled curtains her love in the lone boudoir: she plays tunes on the guitar flowers fade at the windows 8.
- Navigation menu.
- Reconceiving Women: Separating Motherhood from Female Identity.
- Sheryl Sandberg: Option B and Life After Grief.
- Genetic Counselling: A Psychological Approach;
- Posts navigation!
She senses all things changing as she passes through the city again: should I leave the old house or lie in the grave before death Twisting tassels round her finger fears coming of night in bed: octopus grips the body and buckles into disgrace At the river she folds her arms and legs resting her head upon the knees and sits as an island Is it her quietus that she roars in herself like a sea waves upon waves leaps upon herself? The wind lifts her curved nudity hidden in the water curtain: I touch the strings that whisper love in each falling drop Gods couldn't change the rhythm of the body and its needs: erotic scars stick — after three decades love waves tense the flesh and rock the night When the sun is erotic and the moon lyric the winds turn tempestuous in the orbit of love legs slide by calls of nature You and I alive in cold winter night feeling warmth of your body through erect nipples after days of abstinence Before the foamy water could sting her vulva a jelly fish passed through the crotch making her shy- the sea whispered a new song Swirling spiral of her skirt spills tides of dream and memory: I breathe fire in the dance forgetting bends and twists When I wanted to change seats my friend said she can only if the door's locked the light out and her mom in another city Life limits between whence the sun rises and where it goes to relax: joys of a fleeting moment I see Aditi in your eyes When I have no home I seek refuge in the cage of your heart and close my eyes to see with your nipples the tree that cared to save from sun The smile you weave splits the sun I lose my direction in clouds that cover the banks darkening the white of the lake moon kissed Drinking evening star blue green patterns before eyes no meditation no god visits to forgive the sinning soul in solitude Exhausted she sleeps unaware of my presence this warm night carefree I croon my spring song alone and fill the void with new dreams As I repose in the wrinkles of her face I feel her crimson glow in my eyes her holy scent inside a sea of peace The room has her presence every minute I feel she speaks in my deep silently Love is the efflux from her body spreading parabolic hue — enlightens the self I merge in her glowing presence Looking at her face for the glint of her nose-pin or rise of renku they couldn't finish but form in their eyes together Your vacant eyes reveal this city: dim, humid, absent-minded orchestrating bronchial noises 'quake in the face Living in dust smoke and white darkness I know I just flicker — stand alone like a lighthouse lost in the fog of seashore Afternoon dancing on the waves — receding sea then a lashing roaring wall of water, returning sea What should I do about the mornings that couldn't be: now fog controls appearance of the sun Breathing pipe choked with coloured dust celebrate spring in coalfield: the moon mocks my nightly plight I look for the inhaler The chilly wind blows to freeze my feet and fingers tonight I can't rise and silence the whisperings storming the vacant room A moment of love and long silence for years: from dream to nightmare again fear grips my soul I sense her presence around I lost my sleep over a thought I could not make my own: the sun's antidote changed the voice of the wind Watching the waves with him she makes an angle in contemplation: green weed and white foam break on the beach with falling mood Crazy these people don't know how to go down with the swirl and up with the whirl but play in the raging water They couldn't hide the moon in water or boat but now fish moonlight from sky: I watch their wisdom and smile why I lent my rod and bait A cloud-eagle curves to the haze in the west skimming the sail on soundless sea Digging sand with her little toes the toddler in thin sun awaits her mom from the sea I thought I'd exchange my anxieties for a bit of peace but thinking was easier than happening: I couldn't even sleep Standing at the edge I long to float with waves and wave with instant wind: on the dream water's breast I read tomorrow's wonder My hand held out in the dark remained empty: no one reached it to give joy of the meeting hands The thought is sin she thinks and denies me sex to protest against my mind in the gutter that breeds erotics in verse The truth of our togetherness is more real when we lie filling our body with each other silencing sensation I fear the demons rising from my body at midnight crowding the mind and leading the soul to deeper darkness Sleeps the night with desires wrapped in blanket — spring in the eyes gods couldn't change the rhythm of the body and its needs Awake in dream time he looks for the candle — love's invitation lighting up in the dark and sings the body's song Whirling and giggling with livelier partners in the pool breathless I can't keep pace with her swim my way to the bank The sleep is buried in sex for diversion yoga or prayers: the dawn preserves bitter eyes in the day's bleak passage An insomniac weak with desires and prayers hears the heartbeats rising fast with dark hours survives one more nightmare The chilly twilight- tossing leaves and branches tell of the wind before sunrise she and I cross-legged, cling to each other He watches the mound of dead leaves in the backyard to grow dreams after the end of summer and drought: rains nurture seeds birds buried Muttering Tablet of Ahmad in TV noise he lies on the sofa by window seeking post-lunch nap for change Bored with politics and news of falling sensex he folds the paper and flips through the old PLAYBOYs to see the nudes seen in youth She receives my call complaining why I didn't go to see my father while he says it's alright only gums bleed and joints ache Gentle like a dove love was graceful a night away on the white wave it's a sea searching ways leaps to eternity tonight The bamboo garden we picnicked and made love in is now all concrete — managing environment and pollution control The power goes off suddenly summer heat chokes in bed sleepless she turns undoing a hook or two of her tight bra Wish I could kiss her for letting me hear the angels' whispering new moon rises in Libra promising love and money Greeting the first rains after months of soaring heat the lone rose flutters little petals to the ground echoing our first embrace After days of rain it seems summer again sweating all day now without light at night many thoughts drift like clouds Shining on rose leaves silken layer of dew drops: gloss of her mauve smile she blushes when I tell her beauty of the blooming rose Roses await sun and wind to clear the baleful fog: I fear she'll say no to my love again I'm no romantic turning sufferings to bliss and delude in heavenly meeting with god or life's grandeur and greatness I'm human and feel their meanness every moment get angry and lose my sleep as the earth writhes in the pain butcher's knives inflict There's little save poetry and prayer to put up with rising darkness in and out and god too is silent Couldn't be happy with my present nor could realize any dreams all these years — there's nothing to look back to say I lived my life well The chart predicts I must keep the company of the righteous but how to find one among the wicked that write our fate Psalms or no psalms workers of iniquity shoot their arrows with praising lips and god flees to see their shrewd schemes Recedes into self: crooked trees and leaking roofs- the city conspires swarmed with listless spirits young and living, slowly dying Hiding or waiting it raises its head when least expected, a snake glitters in the eyes, looks for the moment to reveal fangs Crudity of the stone conceals grace of nudity the image of Kali reveals to her devotee The sun on a mountain grave illumines the path to divinity unrealized in soul With steel flow the rolling water pierces the rocks shapes them into stars turned into river's song She visits a beauty parlour to erase wrinkles and returns with the same wintry darkness Hanging pictures in bedroom and living room the young couple please each other's eyes leaving box of books for downstairs den The lips in her eyes and long hours in the mouth- no moist secret between us to reveal: now our backs to each other All her predictions could come true had I paid her the fees for her writing psychic reflections on dreams I failed to realize in life Wrinkles on the skin remind me of time's passage year by year traveled long distances renewing spirit and waving good bye At the river-front in-drawn with Buddha's image in padmasana eyes half -closed, meditating his eyes not yet opened Stray fungi grow on the broken window frames beside my bed watery smell swells as if a corpse in the river Feeling the difference between a tin house and a weather proof tent: on the Yamuna's bank Kumbh deluge to wash sins His first winter — recalls swirling snowflakes at Chaluka inside the fibrehut warmth of blue waves surging With black and white marks and nest of ants on its skin the tree grows taller shining through the geometry of sun, moon and halogen My voice brown like autumn crushed in noises I can't understand days pass in colours buried The sea smells from far off leaps to the sky I drive through the maze of returning folks with fresh catch on their head The sun couldn't help nor fish protest: river has no sex so it dried up trapped in its own banks I couldn't understand what's Hindu about having fish and onion after prayers by the river in the temple courtyard Fears to see his own image in her eyes so avoids seeing her again betrays his cowardice They watch her bare back to feel the body through crotch thank engraving pen she loves the etching on skin to enhance nudity Peeling the orange with manicured fingers she slits the rind from top to bottom, separates each section with artistry Dancing on the car top a girl holds the mike to express her love twists the audience Slung-jawed awake two grinning skeletons sit bolt upright in bed hear the shrieks next door but too scared to call the police The nightly ghosts crowd my mind's passage to forge gods' names in disguise I fail to scan the face of thought and life in the dark The chill outside deprives me of the bright moon I breathe in my fears: asthmatic bouts haunt and jealousy itches the throat Night's prisoned friends keep me awake with planes flying over the ashram every now and then I watch the directions matter Unmindful of her body's joy the ascetic absorbed in vision or communion with muse I feel the ripples of fire One thousand miles travelling together in tense silence he and she contemplate the next round of duel I can't cement cracks nor save the frames from collapse: the wreck reveals the myth I need not knit new dreams if truth's so cold and stingy The yellowing patch on the lawn won't green with pesticides — the water infects the roots even if I am drying up here Each night speaks to me in flatulence, wheezing and pain in the legs: god intervenes at times in momentary union With years of rubbish he reeks of aborted dreams lives a stagnant pool cut off from the running source rots in the marsh like a frog They own little earth and seek to auction the sky: excel by default god too becomes a party to their flight with wax wings Lying all day with pain in the heels and sinking heart I read tanka and wait for miracle to sleep Burning without warmth one more hot and sweaty spell of summer, restless down with stroke, without light, fan exhausted, alone in bed Ageing he thinks of the ashes and the long trip ahead in spirit feels the earth he would become celebrating life New leaves welcome his shadow near the window the telephone rings perhaps to greet Naw Ruz: I didn't pray or keep the fast Like tramps and dogs they piss and shit I see I'm sucked in my own cracks: now curl and cry but none bother With moral twists name of god or religion they fly planes to bomb sheep of his pasture and expect grace for humankind Preaching peace explode 'plane bomb, car bomb human bomb and bluff the living corpses with politics of terror They claim to kill satan mass murder innocents and blow themselves up: I wonder how god condones vague prophets and their cult From the border rings he's stationed dangerously: any moment war may break out for their follies he must kill and live No cakes or cookies to celebrate my birthday this New Year's eve lunar eclipse and blue moon cheer the cup in foggy chill Vibration of thought with their venom in groups my spirit disturbed I lose desire to live here conceal my angst in tanka Their loose tattle or loitering on the street changes nothing not even the hand they wave to penetrate the body Surging like a wave they image in the air and end up wriggling worms hiding through the thick hedges digging the dark undergrowth Is it the water or sweat flowing from the cleft they queue up to drink?
The sun of knowledge shining through the beer bottle under the neem tree: carousing, singing in praise of gods and ghosts that never drank He takes out the letter and writes a poem on its back recalling the last words winds whispered through the stars that still shine in the sky Waving arms of trees conspire with overcast day to drench again the two of us look for shade under leaking umbrella Over the dried moss rains have grown new layers making the path more slippery for all of us falling is a postscript now Laden with new shoots the trees promise mangoes to celebrate summer: the dust-storm and rain shatter all hopes hanging by snapped wire Waiting for the remains of sacrifice vultures on the temple tree stink with humans and goddess on the river's bank Awaiting the wave that'll wash away empty hours and endless longing in this dead silence at sea I pull down chunks of sky Two moons so far away yet so near like rain landing gently on my open arms Unknowable the soul's pursuit hidden by its own works: the spirit's thirst, the strife the restless silence, too much Conveying the inexpressible her lines and curves: she acts in plots of pain the dumb sense of silence Brooding condemning things not done and unable to undo he prays ceaselessly fails to stop now compelled to make a choice Try to sense her in a moment that she's never been I walk with light in hand how will she know it's me?
My legs heavy with pain don't move: sit still, await someone to lift When I roll within veins crackle like dried wood breathing is oppressed I can't leave the four walls to survive midnight attack Leisurely the birds keep talking beyond midnight hot humid summer keeps me sleepless too It is for their love of God they play loud music or chant His name on loudspeakers but it kills my peace the whole night I can't sleep Couldn't sleep all night darkness of thought spread over the mind with closed eyes I negotiate fear of missing the train and loss She is so upset with my repressed anger she doesn't sleep with me and questions too why I take alprax when it doesn't suit me An insomniac meditates at night and says: call no man happy till you learn how and when he manages to sleep Short nights and long days sleep loss rustles a friction echoing in bed the cycle of cravings over and over again In his ochre robe the rebel sanyasin says he'll drop his ego like the skin's layers torn off and starts peeling an orange Did I kill a snake or do I pass forked urine the astrologer asks to calculate my future I tell him no and yes Unable to see beyond the nose he says he meditates and sees vision of Buddha weeping for us Resting his chin on the back of his palms he stands at the dusted railing to watch the planes roar and take off Silence of birds and moon so miserly I feel homesick: mists, fogs and leaflessness add to monotony On the roof top she waits for her man with moon cake and lantern: a flash of silver showers on the mist-shrouded figure Rises with the lingering shadow of the dream: the serpent of love tickles between the thighs Pie-eyed from the back door enters concealing smell from his sweetheart The maid fans burnt coal and dried twigs fire to make tea for her hubby lying in sun and shouting Filled with worries all her dreams in one basket- runs to catch the train sand and mud dried on hands ghost fish biting the lungs Burns spiders' net with incense stick in the alcove paper deity unmoved by prayers for safe sojourn in the new city In their drunken chant lurks divinity, the joy let loose in rhythm roses colour the spirit drowsily lost and regained It's prayer to sink into her flesh and bury myself in her breast to escape the faithless hands that never became mother Seeks music in love's masturbating keys at his bed's foot the breath of God lies forked like a tongue of briars The cocktail of drink drug and meditation- nightly yelps tease unshared guilt the hell of silence Transparent in a one-piece dress she tiptoes waving from the window not seeing him leave I love her undress the light with eyes that spring passion with kisses she leaves her name again for my breath to pass through It's not ageing but eternal delight: you under me smooth belly nude necking slow stroking parting flesh The beads of sweat on her breasts do not touch her years or face in candle light her shadow is more restrained than my thought A mist covers the valley of her body leaves memories like the shiver of cherry in dreamy January Watching the moon in the western horizon two haiku poets scratch each other's back and mock the rest as neophytes Once so intimate now uncomfortable strangers smile at each other in the party no one says my name even once At the crowded window implores the clerk to process his papers but he ignores, irritates at the end, abuses A black dog moves freely among reporters lying on the ground to shoot militants in Taj resisting the commandos Amidst trees without fruits and the rising jungle flowers a seasonal grace in colours coexist with disfiguring autumn Whatever the rut they mate without the season ejaculating hatred from their mouths and stink- their cum doesn't turn me on Covering with soil their ill will excreted from the anus at my gate in the morning even sun despises villainy Love runs awry in the name of Holi yields to revelry of colour and sex: they excuse all excesses Delayed monsoon may now come early and quench earth's thirst with respite from heat and power cut: I smell wetness in the air Fear of rain and driver's non-arrival at night spoils the cool drizzle this evening can't relish even the drink No one gives him what he needs after a day's hard work in lab — a lover, a good night's sleep and it passes again, waiting Eternity too short to quench love He walks down the aisle looking for the nave to kneel and slide out After prolonged heat wave sky watery explosion earth lovely doom Seasonal change viral suffering, realignment with doctor's bill Each morning the sun shines through window panes, revives the dream for verses Smell of kamini in front of my house excites: hummingbirds mate She wraps nudity in sari turns graceful: love-touch in colour 8.
Each stone, drop, pebble waste of life in worldly self: haiku nothingness After the red the dog, the girl knotted double face In the darkness of backyard he searches his shadow: summer clouds overhang I stir the water to pierce clouds in it: throw memory stones He has no wind-rope to tie waves in the net: sand melts beneath feet She reads my age in the synthetic dark of moustache and whitening chest Willow summer-sways its bough half-rests on the pole light goes off again Silence is sound in the blank of unthinking mind poetry is peace The child lost in letters and numbers spins new designs She waves a quick smile from her new Maruti— tyres screech The sun vanished in the blue morning couldn't last the flower's smile He sees the ape in the glass self-satisfied his own image The blue white dapples on the canvas seeing the eye of silence Sipping gin he says he loves sex each night but hates the smell They are skinny but skilful, can't be swatted: their vibrations haunt He sweeps yellow leaves or gathers years in a heap burns to merge with dust After hours of power-cut cobwebs in the room swing in thanks My bedroom a maze of cobweb spiders breed The red light is on: they all have secrets to hide no use peeping in In nightly silence glides the airbus through the clouds trail of white smoke After sleepless night a drowsy sun tears the morning sky A lamp floating on river breast in bridal grace waves in the gloaming Looking for Taj in grains through sand storm find history trapped between toes Shining from the blade of grass a drop on earth's breast: tribute to sun I know waves that roar I live through silence of shore: the sea grows in me I felt her fingers the strings of my son's guitar unplayed for a long time After hurried lovemaking we drift to sleep: our backs to each other Flickers of peace hide god in heart like running brook love in nudity Monsoon shower after a long heat wave monotony breaks Ripe on the branches mangoes fall one by one end of the season Coal grows golden each moment in quiet corners raw wind singes It hangs like a drop any moment evaporates love is gullible Morning mist rests on a swathe of pond lone fish looks for sun The moon glows and heat wave all through night scalds leaves kills butterflies The mynahs herald the day clamouring for moths Vacating the house he leaves four decades no thanks to any Not age but years of worries — his furrowed face The leaves sway to fly like birds free in the sky Long forgotten the beginning and the end: exist in middle He closes the eyes expanding inner space a short-cut tour Looking lovingly she bends his head down to hers twines like a creeper Unable to change time my watch doesn't move moment at will The rains wash the paints that hide the face The frog in mirror slips by damp towel cold sets in slippy hands Half -fleshed faces track from behind the windows rawness of journey Falling chalk over head clouds understanding: eyes itch and nostrils run Rains leave soil soft — seeds sprout with first sun pearly dawns Frosted faces dissolve in stale rain clutching female body We lie together filling our body with each other's sensation Celebrating forgettable memories at public expense A star shines bright beside the crescent moon: she fakes a smile Through the small windows gaze at the moon hid behind cloud after cloud 4.
Shaking hands couldn't part with the henna on her palms Reluctant to climb the spiral staircase- bathing in kitchen Measures loneliness sip by sip at dining table From the alcove removes faded flowers and kills black ants 8. Thick dust on leaves unwashed by rains for days- stagnant time Oleander and hibiscus blaze with passion- making love in sun Post-lunch nap: in the drawing room counts beads of sweat Two wolves smell the carcass in field heat wave chills Summer vacation: the noisy roomcooler pricks my silence Dust storm this evening- end of the mango season without tasting fruit Throwing stones at unripe mangoes- two urchins Couldn't keep freshness of leaf in water The first rains coming back from the desert home- plateau souvenir One more empty day but in the mailbox a hint of hope tomorrow Where shall I keep the thirty years junk if I go elsewhere?
A sad soul under the mango— my husband Ending the night's long journey her short story Patterns of hair block the flow: flood in bathroom Cooking smoke waves to the afternoon sun: ruddy backyard Chilly night no soul on the road guard at gate Welcoming the sun dew drops on dry leaves-- an epitaph After the walk two women relax on bench exchanging tensions After cleaning the maid leaves behind an oily smell A tiny spider on the marigold sucking its golden hue Seeking its roots around oleander leaves custard-apple A Christ crucified with the violence of music in the hall After the party empty chairs in the lawn new moon and I A dead voice calling up at dawn: drowsy eyes Such a wild change in the mirror beside her- I look a stranger Stoops to set pleats of her saree mid-August Meeting her once and so much love in one night to last the whole life Each sun aggravates sadness moment by moment: watching lonely street Narrowly escape the midair web of spider perched on hibiscus After extraction he gives me my old tooth list of drugs and new bill Collecting fallen twigs on road half -clad women Palms waving to greet the first rain of the season: I wait in the room Craving for a lick of the salt on her skin to become one with her Desire for diamond dies with price I can't afford: curse astrologer Wish I could be part of the quietude this morning: the sun's so promising Between virgin curves he deep-breathes evening mist rests in the hollow A load of wood on her frail back autumn evening Their shadows dissolve and reappear walking along the river On a cycle he sells bouquets and roses peddling dreams A watchman gazes the stars on her body elements clack Alone on the platform wait for the train swatting mosquitoes Summit of silence: crossing the river- feet dry Scars of existence- wintry sun and chilly night crouching on footpath A dead man couldn't keep standing- lies in dust Knocking emptiness I cross the valleys within now stand at stone gate Love's beauty happening in the soul God presence Silence of class test occasion for haiku thoughts lost in lecture To give voice to stone he chisels the soul-image Krishna plays the flute A lamp on the river— the breast in bridal grace waving in the gloaming In the spring sun the lone pomegranate tree smiling with buds The blue-white dapples on the canvass seeing the eye of silence The mirror is so small I can't see the ocean beyond my own look Silent Ram sheds tears over the bodies burnt in temple's name Violence breeders climb power ladder- peace stings Tears invisible on his water face Buddha meditates Through long shadows in the morning remembering gradual death After the 'plane bomb stuck between concrete rubbles a mother and child In the naked grave some flesh still clings to the bones: flies drone the last breaths Lost in black box he searches love to live- smoulders in ash They still bomb lands for peace repeat August 6 They kill and hide in mosques pray, in fear kill more, and flee To hunt the hunters flames mate with flames- touch the sky Her presence- alien sensation in my veins In my courtyard swoop neem, peepal, cheeku leaves: autumn's ballet Between her fingers and lips swaying some puffed rice Still fresh in the hanky's fold- jasmine Soft footsteps of students bunking class test Her smile arrival of spring at the bower A butterfly restless over the other trying to console Ahead of us-- racing hyacinths in the river Two lizards inside the switchboard turned on Two of us at the waterfall spraying love The whole night waiting for the train running late drowsy sunrise The night queen fragrance seeps in from the windows my bedroom blooms She snuggles up in my arms her dimples joy of heaven Her birth- a poem dancing in the eyes Swirling spiral of her skirt spills tides of dream and memory Echoes of night song flutter our embrace in bed: rushing morning rays Drowsy day waning sex and love- seasonal trick Unattached- drop of water on lotus leaf Baked and cracked the sugarcane field melts into mud Receding winter leaves behind allergies One more year hanged with calendar- a new god Picking at a dead frog on the road- a crow A crow picks at cow's back in the afternoon- drooping rag-picker Green velvet from gate to door- monsoon end A moving train- confined in water bottle rhythmic ripplets Two toads croaking in the drain celebrate sudden shower Chased by a cat a rat sinking into the sand Sculpturing psyche in the city of dumb dreams: idols sweat in sun Elements clack in the small house shudder the harp and strings God, the first victim in the divided city: one more house torched Basking in the past they grow backward and yet talk about the future Tattooed on her back a nude exhibits a nude- FTV model Cut wrongly each body a slave- grey faces Tainted tongues weave mazes to stop birth of light Continuing after ejaculation-- anti-climax Her wet lingerie reveals more than her body— I drown in her sea A stray sperm grows in the ovum blooms as puffball Winter chill- her face grows more wrinkles I see a finger point to the eye in her breast mist lingers on lips No letters today- addresses of his dead friends greying in diary With changing weather they look for sun and shade both: chameleon tune She resents remembering allah in her car In the class test etching nudes on the desk two late comers Night bombing oleander garden white as death Vultures waiting for the remains of sacrifice on the temple tree Seeking for the white of the sky in your closed eyes It's still overcast fumes rise from smouldering ashes- terrorists' attack On a marble grave mating sparrows celebrate peace in cemetery So much night around the street light- no one's safe Heat wave burns and blows the withered nests whole night birds wail searching for shades In the AC room last night's coldness continues: outside summer sun Clad in swimsuit her body in water sweeps waltzing ripplets He sees the world through the light of the body with single eye Lingering in bed: to go to church or pub- Sunday morning Bedside- our night clothes await washing It still lingers like the taste of stale love last night: man and mask one Joy of union reduces as rhythm falls: restless embers grow She hides the mirror with rose and lipstick and keeps her fiction Reshuffling the shelves it's only dust, in alleys sneezing scholarship Gentle breaths prick cheek and chest unclinging looking away She undresses in dim light perfumes her body fills room with herself Love waves rise and fall between our shores of soul drinking each other's sea Shouting at her-- the breakfast aggravates fire in the throat The lone mushroom- - a pregnant woman stares out of the window After dinner leaves a freezing banana on the bed Moving shadows in the silence of the room- windows rattle Hungry eyes rest on their graffiti on the desk Face hidden at the window hear known voices Facing the sun the lone flower dying to bloom After the sunset wheels of a returning cart along the paddy Unmoved by the wind he sits on a rock wearing peace of the lake Unable to see his pale shadow reeling through vapour of the earth Night washes the sky-- the sun brings morning freshness to my window After days of depressing rains golden orb Her frisky bounce like snakebird springing its head in water preying Her eyes flash in dark the eel slides into her cave I watch the mirror They take off again their un thrown nets frighten fish- water turns whiter Storms circling within love is vision in action blue dot in deep space Sound turns fainter with greying geometry a rusted sign Hope in hidden words the invisible essence nearer dawn's glory The mountain doesn't know the river flows through its skin now stains memory Filling emptiness of the room with ikebana A fly flying in IC free of cost On a sheet of ice the chick trying to free itself from its mother's claws Two souls celebrate sailing on flames of white light new millennium The lone hibiscus waits for the sun to bloom: morning's first offering Rain-soaked sun sheds its sultry light-- her bare back Dew drop on a blade of grass rainbow A child's fingers feel the butterfly lying one with yellow leaves Shell -shocked or frozen he stands in tears on hilltop craving nirvana A dead leaf hangs by a spider's thread invisible in sun Staring at each other two fishes in half -filled tank ready for truce All guests gone: after the late party night and I alone Icy bed: moving the pillow closer to hers Only two of us- and a big house with roaming rats and cockroaches Meditation cell phone rings love echoes No god appears in the dark of my closed eyes— dream-image falters The little toddler with her fey appearance: a woodland sprite Seeking good news I watch the lines on my palms taking new turns We meet again in the album ever fresh her memory Tending the hooks she blushes to see the line of jewels The half moon on her neck reminds of love before departure Her trilling laugh on the phone- spring love Chess of love: checkmate before playing the game Falling leaves-- a sheet of autumn in the courtyard They all look for a little more moon coming back from movie Waves of mist shine with sun the day resumes laughter shakes each bough Fearing allergies he misses full moon party savours white light After morning walk the trio gossip each day fresh revelation The holy Ganges tolerates the city's garbage even rape and death Greeting the first rains after months of soaring heat-- the lone mango falls Exploring the world in haiku silence God an event The string of life lost in the knots of small things: living tragedies Sweeping gelled leaves they raise dust in my compound agitate windpipe The lone letter box rusting in rain for years none come to open Prolonged rains keep dahlias from blooming- seeds die again Shining on rose-leaves silken layer of dew drops: gloss of her mauve smile Chilly wind slaps the window panes closed to keep cross-legged couples warm Cloud over cloud darken earth and hide stars: dawn and dust one Red oleander and hibiscus calling morning to Kali Making love she presses with her nails: sparrow sports After lunch stretching legs in cubby-hole: a frog Love tickles with erect pistil: hibiscus Suspended on the spider's web — a hibiscus 3.
Without washing hands he touches hibiscus for worship: her frowning glance 4.
Mourning and Mannahatta
After little rain lilies smile with hibiscus- the sun in May Too short can't reach the height: hibiscus Chrysanthemum on the mossy roof deeply rooted Too big for its web between two roses- a yellow spider 8. Around falling leaves a lone dreaming flower- mid-February 9. Stands alone in the assembly of flowers- Valentine' s Day Not sad to die blooming after a day's rain- the mushroom A frog in the drain stares at the traffic light turning green December morning — the first roses in the lawn: fragrance in passing Leaves sway to fly like birds free in the sky Waving down a leaf settles between her breasts All night trees wave with roaring winds: autumn in the courtyard Bluebells and hazels lost in rustic kisses: morning stars burn On a lean branch of neem swinging a bulbul The courtyard stormed with dried leaves and tamarind: her frail hands sweeping From tree to courtyard cotton balls blown on the wind- seed in the centre Her scarf — a rainbow of flowers moving in the sky Her visit — a transient painting on holiday's floor Painting mom's smile with broken crayons — smiling Winny Intruding her voice on the phone Switching on the hearing aid: wife's warm soup With her saree hitched up between the legs my wife in bed Raising her saree above the thighs bends to ease and blocks my way Rising early to make tea for everyone the newly wed wife As the duo sit lights go out — sofa springs creaking Dissatisfied with each other the two of us in an empty house In the grey of dusk sway between hope and despair their dream promises Leaning sideways she looks at mango picklt caries ache She repeats my ills to express her anger but I know only her love Basking in the sun files nails in garden chair my wife's friend No joy in lighting the candles this Diwali: both the children away Awaits his son's phone call from the border: dogs and cats wail His son's voice not relayed by wire: tense borders Distance mounts each time he visits home: love's last rites Shadow of age on the wall — second full moon Whiteness of the moon and rocks howl with the wind- December in the veins The sun not yet set but the full moon rises as if in a hurry Enveloping all of the moon at night- white chrysanthemums Setting moon leaves behind sparkle on the waves Noisy birds don't let me sleep: midnight moon Through the window gaze at the moon hid behind cloud after cloud Caressing her pregnant belly — water lily Still night nude kisses in park images haunt Standing behind the window bars observes darkness in shapes Night bombing leaves the garden white as death Vultures waiting for the leftovers of the sacrifice In the ruins searching her photo: evening Rutting dogs sleepless the whole night cries for sex Parents pelt stones at the mating street dogs- nosey children Nothing changes the night's ugliness in the lone bed Alone in a shrunken bed aged love In the well studying her image a woman Knitting silence my wife on the bench after lunch The lone mushroom — a pregnant woman stares out of the window Under the tree in meditation sunken a lone stone Alone on the National Highway Hanuman So many headlights and my myopic vision- walking difficult They walk on red coal matching steps with drum-beats: carnival of ecstasy Keeps him sleepless fireworks and high decibel puja all night Sleeping on the cold floor a mother with child Awaits sunrise to hire an auto safely sits at the bus stand Two women argue over price and weight offish: the hapless huckster Carbon flakes drift high above the flat I cough they widen the roads Burning tap water and seething house in the morning heat wave cripples Chanting mantra with wine in one hand and torch in other Building bridges where there is no river— the politician A mother and child stuck between concrete rubbles: fidayeen attack Setting ablaze Muslim houses and children seekers of Ram White-yellow trail the Mirage on mission: ten souls buried Amidst roaring guns clouds blossom snow lotus: light hilly terrain On the margin of home-to-work-to-home routine — life's achievements Shivering in the cold young boys sell balloons late night- New Year revellers Journeying tries to raise his silence to prayer Never enough the earth's hunger for graves: peace barricaded In measured pace hit for divinity two political golfers Disposable blades one over the other- dusty switchboard Seismic lab a network of cobweb: no earthquake for long No Zen thought — scribbling haiku with gun in hand Staring at the huge stone penis at Shinto shrine- two female lovers With her breasts bobbing up and down she challenges the moon as she walks Sees the eyes in walls as I rise to kiss her Drowned in empty whiteness: love Wiping tears from each other's eyes two souls in love Writing with strands of watery hair on her back a love haiku Love of three decades extinguished in a moment- anger in the mouth Shedding bitterness of the tiff in sex act she and I Moist lips parting on a tea cup promising expectation Bending down to pick up apple she presses piercing embrace She preys the body behind obsidian sheath fatuous flap After burns leaving the body the dead skin
Related The Blue Skies of Autumn: A Journey from Loss to Life and Finding a Way out of Grief
Copyright 2019 - All Right Reserved