Saturday, February 25, 2023

Howl 2.0

 Howl 

Silently, 

you come to me

a weave of fingers 

like a lace net


Cast into 

the darkness

to catch me 

before I fall


Quickly,

You find me

Bare toes 

on frozen grass


Each step

a secret song

written out

On a bed 

of wild-flowers


Gasping,

You tumble into me

Twisting your back

To miss the fall

Of my gaze


Howling,

You bring me pain,

Dressed as a pebble

Gripped between

your tongue

And teeth


Let me devour it

and suckle 

On its hard seed

cradle it on my lips

like the slick

deep, taste of wine

Of razor blades

in honey-spice

As we turn sour

In the lantern-light

Let me bite into it

gently

and pull back it’s skin

Like i'm turning 

the pages of a book,

To read the rest

of our story


When it is done,

we will spread out,

like wet lightning,

emptied and electric

and warm our hands

by the fire.



We will cast

our shadows

across the earth

toss our coals

like spears,

into the living flame

And ride

it’s dance

into heaven

like little deaths,

like a held breath.


like broken crowns

on the heads

of broken kings


Striding.


Searching.


Heavy and Lost.


O candle-wick love,

and knife in my heart


O salt-stone,

and bread of my table


Still your hurried pace

And look to the sky


For we are wolves tonight


Long of eye,

And silver’d fangs


howling for flesh

and dreaming of stars.


Friday, September 2, 2022

The water will spill

 The boy sits

with a cup of water.

The cup is his,

the water is a lake

his hands are cold

like winter nests

In the tallest trees

The birds have left long ago

Leaving only the frozen sticks

He calls his fingers


He checks the glass,

And it is assuredly still

He is assuredly still


The day will come

When he has to refill the cup

When the lake runs dry


He will chase errant rain clouds

Through the vast chambers

echoing caves, the byzantine pathways

He longs for the days

When his feet will 

wake the dust 

of this old house

But for now

He is assuredly still

For he must be


The day will come

When the gods will stomp

And snarl

And play their games

And shake the branches

Till there are tiny holes in his walls


They will blow razor wind storms

Across the waters surface

Birthing waves 

too big for the boy to hold

A wake of swords 

Slashing at the cup

For the water is a lake

And it is not his


They will send teeth

Sharp teeth loud teeth

Winged teeth

To eat his chest open

And he cannot use his hands 

To shield the rooms 

Where he has hidden

Every quiet page


The water will spill


The water will always spill

When it gets loud

His hands will shake

And the water will spill

With fear, with rage

His hands will shake

The world

Will shake

And the water will spill


Outside the rain 

Is fighting to get in

But he cannot get up 

To open the doors

The vultures have pecked 

The doorknobs away


So the boy chases the rain 

through each room

Each blind corridor

The only thing showing him the way

Is the smell of wet tar, petrichor

And the music of tin roofs

Echoing in the too-quiet night


Where have the birds flown off too

Their song used to warm him

Where is the voice of his mother

Where is the candle fire

the wooden bookends,

And the stories they sang to him

Where is the smell of coffee

Not for him, cos he's too young

But he likes to witness

The way the dark and light

Mix together to make a color

That perfectly means home


Where is the sweet smoke

The eating of light

The hard made soft

The rainy sundays

Spent reading skin

From page to page


Where are the words of god

They printed on thin paper

For the ink stains his hands

Too deeply

And they must be still


The water will spill

And he has to tell god

But he has searched 

Through all these empty rooms

The boy chases god through each room

Each blind corridor

The only thing showing him the way

Is the sound of death, greed, fear

And the smell of cheap incense


But all he finds

Are half-made statues

Wearing his name

Their words are empty

Their cups are empty

They sing with ears of dirt

And mud

They trace the words on the page

with hearts of Nafs

instead of fingers and eyes

These birds sing empty songs

To empty nests

Thinking they have 

Stopped the sky from falling


But the boy has a cup

And the water is going to spill

But he, is assuredly still


Wild thing

 Call me a wild thing,

find me in the root

 at the base of

the old willow tree


Steeped in a shock

of wildflowers

up to my chest

burning bright

with a smile 


Call me a wild thing

where I built a house 

out of cherry tree wood

fingers stained red

I hid there 

till the wind was still

as mushrooms

as lilacs

as blueberries


Hiding from the hurricane

of razor blades

the shower of poppy seeds

the stolen breaths

between and in-between


Call me a wild thing

when my howl rings

on the moon-silver marshes

my steps tracing

a line in the earth


Stirring a dance of embers

Into a wild dervish

Of hands seeking god

Face tilted slightly

One eye towards the sun

One eye for the earth

ears listening for thunder


Call me a wild thing

O sweet one

O gentle blossom

O lantern of my soul


Sleep now

In the cherry tree house

I have built you

a bed of feathers

I have plucked from

the highest nests

Come home to me, 

sit by my fire

and rest gently


As you fall asleep

You call me a wild thing

And for the first time 

I believe you





 










Thursday, June 22, 2017

*obligatory Death Cab reference*

(sung)"Who's gonna watch you die?"

Is a line from a death cab song
but it blinds me
like a neon sign
shining yellow
through dusty window glass
into the quiet dark
asking me
"what do you mean?"

Not mean like there
was a verbal misunderstanding
between us
but mean like purpose
like what is this amalgamation
of nothing finished,
of half written truths
and left-hand wisdom
in the shape of  a man
supposed to be

Like it was asking me
what I was going to die for
someday

Now,
resonance occurs
when two vibrating bodies
oscillate at the same frequency
Their waveforms meet
and each is left a little stronger for it

And this question
from the street lamps
resonated within me
and was reflected
and magnified
like a voice
from the bottom of a dry well,
a voice I haven't heard
in a while

(sung)"Who's gonna watch you die?"

Who
Like who will be there at the end,
standing proud as the
anthropomorphised outcome
of every choice you have ever made

Who as in who will care enough to
wait the countless hours
for your pointless existence to
run down
for that last burst
of electrochemical potential
to drain back into the cosmos
and mourn the space
you left in the world

Who will remember
that you were just
a fragment ofthe universe 
observing itself
from a different angle.
And all that ended
was a point of view.

Watch
Like who's going to watch you live?
What will be their contribution
to your song
How will their existence
curve your path
For when they walk next to you
you can do nothing
but harmonize
even if that means
you have to change
your tune.

Who
like who trusted you enough to
believe that the colors you thought
only you could see
were real
and in time began to see them too?
Who would love you enough
to let your madness
become theirs
cos for small things like us
this madness is bearable
only through love.


Die.
Like did you bring joy?
Like was there less
empowered fear
in the world because
you existed in it?
Like did you contribute
enough to the human chapter
and will the words
that trace your path
across the page
hold the reader's
gaze till the very end

And when you read them again,
will you recognize yourself?

Die.
Like will the
nutrients your body 
gives back to the earth
be more valuable 
than the imprint
your mind leaves
in the sky
that holds everything
together

Like an errant note
hastily thrust
into the last measures
of an ageless song.

Will that note simper,
and fade
or will it reinforce
the vibrations
drop-kick the melody,
rouse the orchestra
making it brighter,
sharper
clearer
louder
shaking the wood from walls
the nails from your fingertips
your toes dug deep into the sand
sending ripples to every ship
on the horizon

Reminding everyone
on this majestic journey
that the land behind the sun
shines from inside their chest
that the music of the spheres
plays to the beat
of their stomping feet

That the balance they seek
lives in the  endless dance
of particles like
dust-motes and embers
climbing to the sky
on the last breath
of a dying fire

Tell them
To never fear the darkness
or the storm
For it was the storm
that shook the branches
rocking us to sleep each night
And it was darkness
that held us safe
in it's arms till
we were ready to
to become light

Tell them
to never stop burning
combusting
incinerating
illuminating
cascading
into the corners of every room
to the edges of the night sky

Be the sacred pillar of flame
marking the boundaries
between truth and wisdom
freedom and fear

be the wonder,
magic
and endless fireworks
in every child'e eye

but also
may you be happy
may you be at peace
and find joy
in wind chimes
and sea turtles
and a big brass horn section
that plays
at the end of the movie

Hold my hand, 
o lamp of my soul,
and keep me company
I will shower 
you with kisses
and finally
sleep softly






Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Tempo

It is steady
the drum
the step
the heart beat thump
the flailing arms
the scratching chains
on lime green tile
cold, sharp,
and unbearably lost

It is bright
the stray voices
the shadows you've become
the faint web of moonlight
weaving thread unseen
in the crescent of eyes
searching the dim dark
for the dying embers
of a fire
you once knew

It is gentle
the dust
the old stones
the promise of rain
the softness of hair
that falls on your face
and in the infinite space
within each ebony strand
I find and lose
everything

Friday, October 9, 2015

Rise

The average length
of a hug
is 3 seconds,
but for the days
when I'm
at my smallest
I count to 5

Rise

This is for the boys
who don't drink fight or fuck
but hide wolves in clenched fists
to end wars they didn't start

This is for the girls
dressed in summer,
who know that giving light
means learning how to burn

Rise

For the twentysomethings
drenched in lonely
reaching for a love
they don't understand
For the night-owls
living in the shade
too afraid
of the blinding sun
and the rush hour nomads
racing home
to hold up their children

Rise

When your days
cut like blades
and you wake up
in the cold sweat
of unattainable potential
When you're broke
and left chewing
a tightly held breath,
to last the week till payday

Rise

When your front door
is a reminder
of everyone
that left
But your bed
remembers
every mistake
that stayed

Rise

Like your naked girlfriend
just jumped out of a cake
and it's not even your birthday
Like the bottle rocket
of your wildest hopes
is shooting across the sky
And for a brief moment
you're standing eye to eye
with god

RISE !

Like the school-yard rule books
never clipped your wings

Like you didn't know you
could dance till
the beat showed you how

Like you dug through
the pavement
and found the heart
of the world
beats only for you

RISE!

May the days
you wish you were
someone else
never return
May your never-ending
march to the grave
be a  parade
of musicians
acrobats
and fire-eaters
May you find heaven
in a sunbeam
And may all your dreams
come true

Cos when
the dust settles
the only things
left standing
will be the dreams
we all shared

So rise

Saturday, September 26, 2015

7 Books (rewrite)

In my library there are 7 books

1.
I was born in the ocean,
it was night
there was a light breeze

I know this is not true
because my mother can't swim,
but when I close my eyes
and click my heels
I see only gentle waves
draped in a midnight moon.

I don't know
what this means.
Or the kind of man
it makes me

All I know is that
when I'm at sea-level
everything makes sense

2.
To the girls who will
fall in love with me,
take note.

I will love you
violently,
absolutely
and without compromise.
today, tomorrow
and maybe the day after

What I mean is
the Star Trek laser gun
of my undying affection
is set to incinerate.

What I mean is
kiss me on the cheek
and I'll shine so bright
I'd roast a turkey at twenty paces.

What I mean is
I'm afraid my hands
are too big
to carry you safely

What I mean is
I don't know how to love at an even burn.
But some day I might just open a door
and be able to love you
everyday
every time
and everywhere.

But for now please understand
that when you are in front of me
I hear only the sweetest violin music

3.
The first girl I ever loved
was on the Disney Channel.
in the grey hours of morning
I'd lay there among yesterdays toys
waiting for her smile
her teeth jagged
on my CRT screen,
she flips her Technicolor hair
then rolls out
the anthropomorphised rodent messiah
that I had to worship
to prove my love to her

You see,
my seven-year old heart
was a sucker
for prepackaged escapism
in a sundress
so I accepted the Mouse
into my soul
and I preached his word
on the playground
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E
I chanted,
a child soldier on a crusade,
Donald Duck water-bottle
held like a scimitar
I lead my school-yard congregation
in prime-time prayer

But then she started seeing her co-host
and I switched to the Cartoon Network,

You see
I learned what love was, Mickey.
It's a rat-faced lie we all tell.
And I'll never forget my first time.

4.
I used to hate my name
It's too strange to be easy
but not exotic enough to be attractive.

Praveen.

I waged a war
set on a battle-field
of best friends,
and girl-friends,
it was genocide.

Prav

Half of it disappeared overnight.
as if I'd gripped it tight
and threw away all the parts
I didn't like
burying them six-feet deep
as if making it smaller
made it easier to live with.


When you say my name
you remind me that I hate it,
which is strange
because I don't hate it
when you say it.

It falls from your lips
like a dance and a dream.
Like a drop of paint.
and an ounce of fire-light.
You make the hard r sound mystical,
and you hide the awkward e's
inside the most sensuous way
you pronounce the n
that sits at the end
of the whole mess.
You make the v in the middle
feel at home.

So, to the world I will remain Prav,
the name I pin to my chest
like a battle scar.

But in the space
under my pillow
I will hide
the sound of your voice
and the memory
of my hated name.

5.
You asked me where I got this t-shirt
I took a trip outside of myself
and it was all I came back with


6.
When I was a little boy
I danced with God.
He told me stories
and gave me heroes to play with
but in my dance I spun away
and found the song of the universe
to be louder than the words on the page

The melody is old
and hard to hear
over the roaring thunder
but it begs us to remember
that somewhere,
something incredible is waiting to be known
that we're all
waiting to be known
and for small things like us
the vastness is bearable
only through love.


7.
I am continually amazed
by the ongoing process of being human.

All of you amaze me,
you wonderful machines.
all cheekbones and elbows
and tangled balls of string

If these fingers were nimble enough
I'd rip myself apart
layer by layer
exposing the sacred chaos
and tiny infinities
that live inside you.

I'd do it every night.
Standing on rooftops and flagpoles
with a marching band and fireworks
screaming through a megaphone
putting all my gears and levers
on display
till my my eyes are steeped
in burning flowers
and the choking floodwaters
fall beneath my chest


Then I'd step back
and ask for your name.
"My name is Praveen," I'd say
"Take my hand. There's something I need to show you."