MIDNIGHT SENSATIONS AND OTHER TANKA SEQUENCES

1
OVER AND OVER AGAIN
Short nights and long days
sleep loss rustles a friction
echoing in bed
the cycle of cravings
over and over again
 
Rises with
the lingering shadow
of the dream:
the serpent of love
tickles between the thighs
 
The body that died
and the body that quivered
with menstruation
is me in dream fear and hope
shake love to light the flame
 
The cocktail of drink
drug and meditation –
nightly yelps
tease unshared guilt
the hell of silence
 
 
 
2
SILENCE
Conveying
the inexpressible
her lines and curves:
she acts in plots of pain
the dumb sense of silence
Brooding condemning
things not done and unable
to undo she prays
ceaselessly fails to stop
now compelled to make a choice
Unknowable
the soul's pursuit hidden
by its own works:
the spirit's thirst, the strife
the restless silence, too much
A moment of love
and long silence for years:
from dream to nightmare
again fear grips my soul
I sense her presence around
Twisting tassels
round her finger fears coming
of night in bed
octopus grips the body
and buckles into silence
 
 
 
3
ROSE

Greeting the first rains
after months of soaring heat
the lone rose flutters
little petals to the ground
echoing our first embrace

Shining on rose-leaves
silken layer of dew drops:
gloss of her mauve smile
she blushes when I tell her
beauty of the blooming rose

The fragrance of rose
seeps through the windows
coupled with full moon
adds to my delight though I'm
alone in my bed tonight

Roses await
sun and wind to clear
the baleful fog:
I fear she'll say no
to my love again 

 
 
 
 
4
I'M NO RIVER
The sun couldn't help
nor fish protest:
river has no sex
so it dried up
trapped in its own banks

The otter watches
a duck walking on
the frozen river
icicles drop bit by bit
from a lone tree

At the river
she folds her arms and legs
resting her head
upon her knees and sits
as an island
I couldn't understand
what's Hindu about having
fish and onion
after prayers by the river
in the temple courtyard

I'm no river
flowing toward the sea:
I must find my way
asking strangers in strange places
sensing soul, using insight
 
 
 
5
LOVE
 
His message to meet
at moonrise among flowers
sparkles a secret
on her smiling face passion
glows with charming fervour

She is no moon yet
she drifts like the moon, takes care
of him from the sky -
meets him for a short, waxing
leaves him for a long, waning

Before going to bed
she looks too sad to have
any sweet dream:
the lonely lamp glints no love
and no star peeks through the curtains

Yearning to meet him
she turns a silk-worm spinning
love-silk in cold night -
stands in a shade melting tears
like a candle, drop by drop

Stains of dried dewy
tears on the eyelids tell of
the load on her mind:
clothed in spring the willow twigs
reveal the changed relation

Locked in the shadows
of unrolled curtains her love
in the lone boudoir -
she plays tunes on the violin
flowers fade at the windows

She senses all things
changing as she passes through
the city again:
should I leave the old house or
lie in the grave before death
 
 
6
F E A R
Slung-jawed awake
two grinning skeletons sit
bolt upright in bed
hear the shrieks next door but
too scared to call the police
 
The nightly ghosts crowd
my mind's passage to forge
gods' names in disguise
I fail to scan the face
of thought and life in the dark
 
The chill outside
deprives me of the bright moon
I breathe in my fears:
asthmatic bouts haunt and
jealousy itches the throat
 
Night's prisoned friends
keep me awake with planes
flying over the Ashram*
every now and then I watch
the direction matters
       
One thousand miles
traveling together
in tense silence
he and she contemplate
the next round of duel
 
I can't cement cracks
nor save the frames from collapse:
the wreck reveals the myth
I need not knit new dreams
if truth's so cold and stingy
___________________________________________________________________
(*spiritual sanctuary)
 
 
7
ON THE BEACH
  A cloud-eagle
   curves to the haze
   in the west
   skimming the sail
   on soundless sea 
 
  Watching the waves
   with him she makes an angle
   in contemplation:
   green weed and white foam break
   on the beach with falling mood 
 
   Crazy these people
   don't know how to go
   down with the swirl and
   up with the whirl but
   play in the raging water 
 
  They couldn't hide the moon
   in water or boat but now
   fish moonlight from sky:
   I watch their wisdom and smile
   why I lent my rod and bait
  
 
 
 
 
 
8
MIDNIGHT SENSATIONS
I fear the demons
rising from my body
at midnight crowding
the mind and leading the soul
to deeper darkness 
Sleeps the night with
desires wrapped in blanket  —
spring in the eyes
gods couldn't change the rhythm
of the body and its needs 
Awake in dream time
he looks for the candle —
love's invitation
lighting up in the dark
and sings the body's song 
The night queen fragrance
seeps in through the window
coupled with full moon
adds to my delight though I'm
alone in my bed tonight 
The sleep is buried
in sex for diversion
yoga or prayers:
the dawn preserves bitter eyes
in the day's bleak passage 
An insomniac
weak with desires and prayers
hears the heartbeats
rising fast with dark hours
survives one more nightmare
 
 
 
9
NO  MOIST  SECRETS
Layers of dust thicken
on the mirror water makes
the smuts prominent:
I wipe and wipe and yet
the stains stay like sin
When I have no home
I seek refuge in the cage
of your heart and close
my eyes to see with your nipples
the tree that cared to save from sun
In the forest of your hair
my finger searches
the little pearl of blood
that stirs the hidden waters
and contains my restlessness
Crazy these people
don't know how to go down
with the swirl and up
with the whirl but play
in the raging water
The lips in her eyes
and long hours in the mouth-
no moist secrets
between us to reveal:
now our backs to each other
All her predictions
could come true had I paid her
the fees for writing
psychic reflections on dreams
I failed to realize in life
Wrinkles on the skin
remind me of time's passage
year by year travelled
long distances renewing
spirit and waving goodbye
Feeling  the difference
between a tin house and
a weather proof tent:
on the Yamuna's bank
Kumbh deluge to wash sins

With black and white marks
and nest of ants on its skin
the tree grows taller
shining through the geometry
of sun, moon and halogen

My voice
brown like autumn
crushed in noises I can't
understand days pass in colors
buried
Before the foamy
water could sting her vulva
a jellyfish passed
through the crotch making her shy -
the sea whispered a new song
 
____________________________________________________________________________________
YAMUNA: 0ne of the holy rivers for the Hindus, bathing in which is considered necessary for remission of sins. It rises from the Himalayas and flows for about 1380 km to join the Ganges at Allahabad.
KUMBH: Hindus assemble on the banks of the Yamuna in Allahabd every six and 12 years for a holy dip in the river, seeking release from their sins. The last Kumbh festival  at the end of 2000 was the century's biggest, in which many foreigners also participated. They stayed in the weather-proof tents while the natives had to stay in tin tents.Over ten million people took a bath in the river.
 
 

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Monday, March 14, 2011 - 19:17

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