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Table Manners
Why can’t a watermelon
Seeds copious like
a lake full of fish,
dead, fins
poking gloss
Be more like a papaya
Beads rounded up
Scrape-easy.
Doobie Doobie Do
Oh, those
Chairs in a jagged circle
Someone’s boyfriend who did not
know the art of inhalation,
morose, wanting
conversation
The rest of us buzzards
and baloos
Wet-whiskered
roaches
be the sun be
do the cat do
be the branch be
do the moon do
be the leaf be
do the dew do
be the mouth be
do the spout do
How I Knew
It was you
Not because
You said it was
Not you
Or that you don’t know
The word I heard
You say
But that I
Told you
Of my dream
Over the rim of
My coffee cup
First thing this
Morning
Accusingly.
Note
Photographs of children born to others
Messages to missed understandings
To all the variables of past and future
Over a chipped coffee cup, let me be
A memory without gravity
Catching Up
Did I mention how I see us?
Heads too large for our childhood bodies
Mouth-buds, wide-set eyes
Like Charlie Brown and Lucy
Walking, blowing
Soap bubbles, speech blurbs
Who’s buried under the memory tree
What’s the name of the bird in that nest
Tell no one how old we are
Or that we know Chiquitita by heart.
Season's Greetings -- A Found Poem
Peacocks make all kinds of calls:
At twilight, they fly up into the pine trees and the males call out to each other and to distant birds - "hellllllp hellllllllllp!"
The peahens, on the other hand, sort of say - "hell-O, hell-O"
Sometimes, the males call out with a sad dove-like call - "ohhhhh ohhhhh," sometimes accompanied by the dogs howling, at the neighboring coyotes.
When the males are fanned out, and there are several around, they go "aaaaahhh aaaaahhh aaaaahhh," maybe up to six times each, back and forth between themselves.
If they are disturbed in the night, especially if the moon is up, they will call back and forth with the "aaaaahhh" calls. This all-night-calling only happens once or so in the breeding season.
Near the end of the mating season, their poor voices get hoarse, and sometimes they can be heard to bray or even squeak.
Annotation
The year: twenty twenty one
The plan: sunset
About me:
I live in a small town in Andhra, and visit Bangalore for errands. I worked in advertising and television for two decades, and quit. I read, write, take care of my elderly parents and do some community service. I have some poetry books, a couple of books in translation and a book on mantra experience.
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