iAmDiipo

On ordinary days, I do not remember you, I have remembered nothing and no one For some days now, I have only wished For a release from the blandness of my heart I at last have my wish fulfilled in your call You called to say hello or something like that you said .....but I remember I remember what you remembered That made you call me It all happened here Here on this same bed.

Your gloom eclipsed the sun yesterday and doused the office lamps Sad stories you have two, I have two some have twenty Today live today, please bring back the lost brightness.

I love the playing fields When no one is playing (on them) I love Sunday evenings and my aloneness The tinge of these grasses on my neck I love I love the green of the young grass and the brown of its dying blades The unwinged creatures that stray on my writing pad, I love I love to sleep here I love these grasses Without a need for reciprocation Without the pain of fear I love I love All because I once loved­­­­- loved too intensely

What if The sky turns to flames And the seas boil in furious unison If the mountains melt And magma flows freely across the land Vaporizing the trees Would this be the end of us all Of all lives and livestock Of flowers and gardens Of young and old and aspirations The end of all our installations Huts and silos, the dams, the windmills The treadmill, the corn mill, and sawmills The pylons, the rigs, the masts The carriages and horses, the cars and carts The bridges and the cloudshoving towers All the winding road to our trivial Parks, fields and beaches The subway and computers and mobiles All our constructions Designer shoes, hats and fabrics Designer breasts and noses of plastic Clones and hybrids The docks and dockyards The courts and courtyards The shrines and crosses and minarets The military, their weaponry All the flags and colors Would this be our quietus Would our souls on wings unseen Fly away to another sphere What if not and I die in my sleep And my folks and friends shed t...

I HAVE A WISH I have a wish To a bird amongst those these eagles That fly high above I’d fly away, far away to places unknown Perch on ancient trees and watch the sun set on distant lands Live amid the pristine peace of land and air untouched by men; Driven by fears and science I’d live a life of no care for such mundane endearvours that brings pain Sleep in tents and dine with strangers Fly amid the clouds of rain and caress every colour of its rainbow Without a thought of a gold pot I’d live free, wild and easy Soar beyond knowledge known to men And watch their strife with some pity in my eyes.

What would I pay for the school that will teach me? How not to live in a past I can’t unprint Nor in a future I can’t preprint How to immerse myself into now and enjoy it Without wishing for more or less How To see the clouds and not wonder when it would rain To see a woman and not contemplate heartbreak To have faith when in fear How To listen to the assortment of voices of nature Birds singing, children crying and the rustle of leaves in the wind To say thank you for even nothing How to discern what I feel and sieve it from what I should feel How to listen deep enough to hear the voices of silence And see the reasons behind our reaons How To be honest with myself first and so acknowledge my limits without judgments And do likewise with my strengths without arrogance How not to limit my experience by putting them all into words (Some feelings would not go into words …..Words are limited) How Not to classify my acquaintances into classes How to experience people and not analyze them To...

The rich don’t use public buses They have too many cars and police escorts Only the poor like me would you find in buses like this Thinking the thought of others; There is a lady here Beside me on the left— Who has read her marked God’s book from Mark to Matthew in 5 minutes! Who does she think she is, a Sybil? The guy on the extreme right is obviously in love with his own gruffly voice— Been practicing Acappella all along—(I suggest he sing hymns at burials) Some love birds (more of love lion and prey) at the back seat Talking the talk of fools who are about to fall (into the lagoon or) in love— Saying a whole lot of nothing I, the old hungry muse is here thinking the thoughts of an idler We have two sleepers; one behind the other, one of each sex Sleeping an impossible sleep, in this impossibly wobbly bus On the third-mainland at sunset on a late October hot Tuesday Seasoned with assorted peals of vehicle horns In a mercilessly hopeless clog up!