Yet another nameless post

Old, familiar books
Spruce in dust jackets,
Verdant dreams
Trimmed to size,
Motley mementoes
Cluttering up the brackets,
The skyline behind the highrise.

One fine day
I threw them all away
Knowing there would
Be Heaven to pay.

I rushed pell-mell
On to the dusty, sun-baked streets,
Running away from hell
And cupboards full of wild beasts.

I left behind
The childhood tales
Of wonder and horror
And the adult waiting room
Of perpetual torpor.

Well, here am I,
Fairy of the Elysian lawns
Here the nightingale
And there the bluebell,
The murmur of divine songs.

Goodbye monsters, goodbye ogres,
I cannot wish you good day.
You’re the stuff that life is made of
While I’m in heaven to stay.

It’s only sometimes
When I’m shaping mortals
Out of the clay
The Master has given me,
Do I strain to hear
The tolling of the Inchcape Bells
Deep in the hell of the sea.

Another Nameless Post

Dancing on the graves
Of infant dreams
Killed and buried long ago,

Exulting on the ashes
Of distant visions
Gone up in cigarette smoke.

Cannibalistic exhilaration
Of a hungry soul
Feasting on fresh minds,

Ecstatic jubilee
Over rotting remains
Of dead desires.

Wild, wild addiction
To noxious fumes
And the hangman’s noose.

Nameless Post

The morning dawns
Hesitant, the pale sun lingers
Awhile, full of pity,
Reluctant to turn its harsh glare
On the little men and women,
Arrogantly unaware of their big dreams;

Slowly bringing out into sharp relief
The smoke rising from the asphalt,
The luminous waves of heat
Dancing in the sun; the putrid
Stench of uncollected garbage
Spilling from a broken vat;

The rancid whiff of genteel poverty
Wafting from shabby tenements
Brazenly bedecked with tinsel,
Buckets of washing
Jostling for a beating and a shower
On the paved quadrangle under communal taps.

A steaming cauldron of everyday smells:
Detergent, toothpaste and spices in oil
Cowdung, urine and tea on the boil
Stale sweat and the sudden
Rebellious fragrance of a stray gulmohur,
Nauseating, fascinating, infinitely reassuring.

A rich canvas, vibrant, beautiful,
Oozing the filth of life from every pore
My heart’s delight, my soul’s repose
My daily breath, my life’s grace,
The love I feel for it all stabs me deep
And enfolds me in remorseless embrace.