Rain

What rain is this
That rips the lips Of earth,
Denudes her flowers
Gnaws at the undersides of roots as though
With a vengeance of the long lost years
Distances stone from flesh,
Yet whets timeless beauty
Upon a shaking wet leaf?

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Street Side Poet

He’s reading his poetry
To the passing cars,
To those walking past him
To buy beef and fish,
His voice can be heard by the vendor
Counting small change in the vegetable market,
A few cats tired of all those tasty fish heads,
Have come here to curl and sleep
He’s reading his poetry,
Meanwhile the mosque sirens
The afternoon namaaz,
In the church, the priest reads
The holy Bible,
His mind filled with the beautiful bride before him saying I do,I do,
In the temple, the priest
Is tidying up the sandal torso
Of Ganesha,
The streetwise poet is still reading his poetry
Though the few that were there
In the audience
Have left him,
Ah, the poet will be
With his poetry, until the end
The poet will be the poet,
With all his goddamn poetry
Like God will be God.

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Forget me Town

I’m going to forget me town,
Where forgetting grows everywhere
Everywhere,
Tall as trees
All their fruit ripening,
High up in the air.

In forget me town,
You are carved in forgetfulness,
everywhere.
On dolls, on tea cups, on flower vases,
On billboards,
And all the hair pin bends
Go by your name.
Now it is such a thrill
To be with you
In forget me town
Where your face is the sun,
All looped in mountain mist
Waking me up,
To forget you again.

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Glasses

Glasses.
They are crystalline.
I look through them.
Like I look through things
And I’ll pour the whiskey,
And there’s a way
Whiskey fills my glasses
With the colour
Of your skin,
That lies all day,
Among night lilies.

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Come, Sit by my Side

Come, sit by my side,
Like you used to.
A longing, like a tree
Spreads in the middle of the river.
The wind is zephyr, deepening lyre, and your lips,
Are turning to love songs.
Like you used to.
What a way,
To set me on fire,
In the middle
Of all that water.