Slow, dull, monotonous, persistent and unforgiving; Every beat renews the ever darkening constancy of a reluctant pessimist. An exercise in futility; rusting arteries can only blacken young blood, with each new beat. Slow; Dull; Unrelenting; Never learning. Mockingbirds do not return to leafless branches and play Muse to the poets of eternal Fall.

In All Fairness

Forked-tongued, mousse haired, black tied Cretins whistle hawkish tunes, circling the bodies of Syrian children washed up on Bodrum shores, singing war songs, beating battle drums. Lying, stealing, pillaging, boundary-challenged savants, talk of walls and borders. And from the heights of Standing Rock, drenched in the blood and tears of an once proud People, Fair... Continue Reading →


As the eighth year drifts in, The seven gone by, sighs. Melancholy drips from the eyes, In faces turned to ghosts. Held steadfast in the mind, By memories of long abandoned dreams. Empty nests, forgotten lays, faded tunes And mockingbirds gone away. Lingering doubts, drifitng nostalgia, Uncertain amnesia, Can memories lie? Or do the threads... Continue Reading →

Brick Lane

"Forgotten energy may hold these persons fast in memory, but they would hardly have any ground left under them and even their legs would have already turned to smoke." ~~ Franz Kafka, Diaries; Sunday, 19th July, 1910~~ Abstractions. Coherent, sensible, logical progression Of intangible notions. Naive realism of the infallibility Of observationally unverifiable postulations; his... Continue Reading →

Hope: Memoirs of a Homeless Vagabond

"[...] beneath the glitter and glitz, the diamonds and black velvet, deep below, the Metropolis' heart beats; down in the sewers and gutters, where its dearest families live." -- Paul Theroux; Memories of New York City-- She had come to hate it -- Hope. The word. The sound. The concept. The unabashed cruelty of it... Continue Reading →

Cold Turkey

You ever wandered, inside your own head? Aimlessly? Heedlessly? Like a drunk hobo in Kansas? There's a feeling -- I can't find -- lost in my head. Endlessly It itches Where I can't scratch.

A Make-Believe Poem

Seaside autumn evenings seep between the yellowing pages of an old journal -- And rustling, the winds of used deskfans smell of sub-continental summers past.

One Walked Among the Muses

The echo of her feet sound the beats Of monsoon's invitation. Thirst. The Earth's Impatience groans in exhilarated agony, and Untarnished soil moans to be trodden. Like the slow creeping moonlight Embalming the horizon, Ethereal, the grace of her motion Intoxicates, and the ground in her path drifts, Into a timeless reverie. The white silk gently hugs... Continue Reading →


This and that... and those; sundry remnants of little summer indiscretions -- they build up on you! Hunched over, fat, sweating in sleeveless vests; Sort and shuffle, and burrowing through little stacks of procrastinations, and lotto tickets, paperback Kerouac and playboys; Murmurs of the lost summers of his youth.

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