Fatal Journey and other poems

Fatal Journey and other poems

Fatal Journey

When words frothed on the
Banks of meaning
Gurgling with sore shells and twisting crabs

Senses wrapped in yellow hairy skin
Broke through the enigma
And splashed into a fountain of tears

The nose could smell
As the eyes could see

The bull’s horn brought the 
Earth back to its balance

To seek meaning is meaningful
To find meaning is negation of existence

The boneless necks of the turtles
Pulled their heads back
Into the hard shells

Meaning is well armoured

Many heads split on the
Rocky back of words


The bubble burst its
Umpteen colours into
A watery hollowness

And began creating a new one

Each one pricking me to my senses

I am not an etherized patient

I remain on guard

You can’t touch my airy nothingness

Something might come out of 


The complete circular wetness
Out of
A bubble exploded

On a dry blank slate


A blind man’s

The blind man
A living

Sight inwards,
Searching a way
Out of himself

into a whirling self

Blue Baby

I entered the world too soon
The brightness dazzled me

I could not stand firm on my legs
The ground beneath me always shook 

I fell
I crawled
I fell
I half-got up
I remain suspended

What is a home
My mind has to cover too long a
Distance to meet another

I feel my ghost
Uneasy in my body

I am not guilty
My mother is

She didn’t keep me in her womb for the full 
Nine months

Mountain Nights

I didn’t know then
What I know now

The big thud on the roof
That cracked the rocky silence
Of sleep day after day
Was that of a flying fox 
with wings that do not 
carry its weight into the firmament 
Nor combat the mountain fog 

Huddled out of dreams 
I’d topple into the black tunnel 
of night all alone
not in glory of the 
moonlit snow 
but in anguish of the lingering din
of sleepless nights

Treacherous journey uphill
difficult to climb 
more difficult to come down… 

Donate Now


*Comments will be moderated