A poet does not know depression
Only but cries when he sees a flower
And if you hear one cry
“I am lost for words!”
Quick! Run,
Greatest you are if you find them
And make ‘em your own.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
Friday, August 27, 2010
Little Boy and The Rocking Chair-Ode to Katherine
Mansfield's Little boy's Dream
To and from, to and fro
It went, the little boy went.
He would have closed his eyes
If the horizon had kept still,
But it kept going and
The setting suns’ hands had
Drawn it so sharp
And on his hypnotized face
The light flooded up and down
Like a giant brush painting
Up and down.
So Up and down, up and down
The boy rocked.
There and then he understood
Why grandma loved it here
Where little rays played so
Heavenly and so fixed,
He rocked and rocked
and he finally closed his eyes
and went to a sweet sweet,
far far away land.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
Mansfield's Little boy's Dream
To and from, to and fro
It went, the little boy went.
He would have closed his eyes
If the horizon had kept still,
But it kept going and
The setting suns’ hands had
Drawn it so sharp
And on his hypnotized face
The light flooded up and down
Like a giant brush painting
Up and down.
So Up and down, up and down
The boy rocked.
There and then he understood
Why grandma loved it here
Where little rays played so
Heavenly and so fixed,
He rocked and rocked
and he finally closed his eyes
and went to a sweet sweet,
far far away land.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Scooby-Poodle Hates Me.
I know book, I tell you that.
Like I know girls and girls and
those who like that and who do that.
Well, in this neighborhood I would
Like to live, a girl walks a dog
And from a mask of seven, I choose
The one,
Glossy, shiny and full of class
You see I went to class so
I know how to read (did I mention?)
You would know-
The talk, her sway
The scent, her bangle jingle
See, I come on top.
The gaze, the touch.
The weather too,
And that I remarked so
The handshake came warm and humid.
But be warned! I should forecast, Behold
A lightning in mid-day sun.
Even the stupidest of lads knows to befriend a
Girl, you befriend her dog.
Where I come from, a seven-star kiss no lad would miss
My big lips and flary nose thus I present,
“Saaaah!!”. And again.
What happened henceforth
Ceased my ere thinking
I couldn’t believe what the
Mongrel did.
I’d rather it puked, vomited
Or laughed; but that thing decided
To put me in my place.
Rolling big eyes and swaying
a pampered ass, nose up
it facetiously snorted and
quipped “You are weird.”
And sashayed away.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
Like I know girls and girls and
those who like that and who do that.
Well, in this neighborhood I would
Like to live, a girl walks a dog
And from a mask of seven, I choose
The one,
Glossy, shiny and full of class
You see I went to class so
I know how to read (did I mention?)
You would know-
The talk, her sway
The scent, her bangle jingle
See, I come on top.
The gaze, the touch.
The weather too,
And that I remarked so
The handshake came warm and humid.
But be warned! I should forecast, Behold
A lightning in mid-day sun.
Even the stupidest of lads knows to befriend a
Girl, you befriend her dog.
Where I come from, a seven-star kiss no lad would miss
My big lips and flary nose thus I present,
“Saaaah!!”. And again.
What happened henceforth
Ceased my ere thinking
I couldn’t believe what the
Mongrel did.
I’d rather it puked, vomited
Or laughed; but that thing decided
To put me in my place.
Rolling big eyes and swaying
a pampered ass, nose up
it facetiously snorted and
quipped “You are weird.”
And sashayed away.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
(Untitled)
Here, bungee would redound
Usually, more than often
Not nice, so
Always jumping but necessary.
Oh, you need a fix? Take a walk,
Fool, evening breeze advisable
Don’t walk your dog unless voluntary.
Riding the unicorn, what a fun idea
But have you tried this;
A nuclear implodes! Yes,
Desert terrains in your guts
Heave and pant. There comes the Humvee
RUN! You get basic propulsion
But the necessary strap may snap.
But that’s dangerous, lets play game
Don’t play with fire.
Let’s go heliskiing over Baqra,
Only in place of ice, sand dunes stand bare
It’s better than Aspen, dude!
Did you say nuke? Was that a knock?
What? You already back from your
walk? What happened? Where’s the dog?
You stupid suicidal fuck! I said voluntary.
Now the dog is dead, wait till Bush hears this.
No! Not the biblical Bush, I mean the burning one.
Like oil and blood in one’s hands, ablaze
Like in a magicians’ skit, it’s awesome!
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
Usually, more than often
Not nice, so
Always jumping but necessary.
Oh, you need a fix? Take a walk,
Fool, evening breeze advisable
Don’t walk your dog unless voluntary.
Riding the unicorn, what a fun idea
But have you tried this;
A nuclear implodes! Yes,
Desert terrains in your guts
Heave and pant. There comes the Humvee
RUN! You get basic propulsion
But the necessary strap may snap.
But that’s dangerous, lets play game
Don’t play with fire.
Let’s go heliskiing over Baqra,
Only in place of ice, sand dunes stand bare
It’s better than Aspen, dude!
Did you say nuke? Was that a knock?
What? You already back from your
walk? What happened? Where’s the dog?
You stupid suicidal fuck! I said voluntary.
Now the dog is dead, wait till Bush hears this.
No! Not the biblical Bush, I mean the burning one.
Like oil and blood in one’s hands, ablaze
Like in a magicians’ skit, it’s awesome!
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
My Friend, My Companion, My brother (Acquainting Myself)
I was never lonely with my brother,
He was my twin!
As one soul we would play,
With soil and also tins
At night, when mama would pray,
Through slit eyes I beckoned him
So we could share my guardian angels.
Wherever he is, they are with him.
Would I forget the sun washed morning ventures?
The spring hunts. No, the battles! Bloodless,
Wonder if the butterflies shared our adventure
When they flew with, from us till breathless.
“Don’t let ‘em through you!” But still your nature
And demeanor was faultless!
Wonder if they told their mothers
Or like us, lived the experience to their selves!
I cannot recall when you went away,
If you strayed and lost I would have known
All my paths and secrets were your own
You…….you would know the way.
Wish you were there when I learnt to whistle!
I’ll bet you must have heard, the birds did
Exciting, albeit it started as a rustle
But all in no time, became strident as a beep!
It wasn’t easy then, but I got used to it
Caused me all the melancholy,
Should I have given you what I eat?
Mama would not understand,
She wanted her kids to be all jolly
And when lonely, she would take my hand
So I never told her about you,
But I know we are one all through.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
He was my twin!
As one soul we would play,
With soil and also tins
At night, when mama would pray,
Through slit eyes I beckoned him
So we could share my guardian angels.
Wherever he is, they are with him.
Would I forget the sun washed morning ventures?
The spring hunts. No, the battles! Bloodless,
Wonder if the butterflies shared our adventure
When they flew with, from us till breathless.
“Don’t let ‘em through you!” But still your nature
And demeanor was faultless!
Wonder if they told their mothers
Or like us, lived the experience to their selves!
I cannot recall when you went away,
If you strayed and lost I would have known
All my paths and secrets were your own
You…….you would know the way.
Wish you were there when I learnt to whistle!
I’ll bet you must have heard, the birds did
Exciting, albeit it started as a rustle
But all in no time, became strident as a beep!
It wasn’t easy then, but I got used to it
Caused me all the melancholy,
Should I have given you what I eat?
Mama would not understand,
She wanted her kids to be all jolly
And when lonely, she would take my hand
So I never told her about you,
But I know we are one all through.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
I MUST Contemplate This Cross
Think what you may but
I will not cross that road like an ass
They shoulda consulted first ‘cause
This black and white thing,
Is already a problem. To be segregated,
And for I to be designated
A path in front of revving killers
You see, I prefer where the cars are fast-moving
For I know and take precautions
But I don’t, Sir, like it
When your car sit there, looking at me.
I understand the 3 Series Beemer come
Heavy and low,
It complements you Sir, but see
That’s a problem for me if I was stupid
Enough to trust that ass of a beast
Cause’ your pot-belly may come in the way
And you might incidentally step on gas
And I wouldn’t want to be in the way, do I?
So I don’t, Sir, like it
When your car sit there, looking at me.
I hope you took your pills Sir, I fear most
when you look startled
I might remind you of that scalawag who did your
daughter in, by the way is it boy or girl? Lucky you!
You might do me and blame it on passion
And your overpriced lawyer will make sure
You don’t miss your morning jogs
I know we haven’t crossed each other in any way
But I can’t cross this way, hope you understand
So I don’t, Sir, like it
When your car sit there, looking at me.
You look apprehensive, Ma’am
Could it be your son’s new friends? The ones
Dressed like me? Quite obvious you don’t dig
Greasy jeans,
But mine comes from the yard down
Wish I did it up in my room or the garage.
I may trip and you might freak
That I’m coming for your side mirrors
Guilt has been known to make people paranoid
So I don’t, Ma’am, like it
When your car sit there, looking at me.
Sorry Ma’am, I didn’t notice it was LHD
And is that a red number plate? That’s your son driving?
And sorry too young Sir, but I did mean the things I said
About you and your friends
I hope you are not on PCP, now that I can see
Your eyes, your eyes! Is it the TV? Must be the gaming
Whichever, young Sir, with you
I run out of luck fast and quick, hence I don’t want
To be just another point you whack to move a level
So I don’t, young Sir, like it
When the States’ car sit there, looking at me.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
I will not cross that road like an ass
They shoulda consulted first ‘cause
This black and white thing,
Is already a problem. To be segregated,
And for I to be designated
A path in front of revving killers
You see, I prefer where the cars are fast-moving
For I know and take precautions
But I don’t, Sir, like it
When your car sit there, looking at me.
I understand the 3 Series Beemer come
Heavy and low,
It complements you Sir, but see
That’s a problem for me if I was stupid
Enough to trust that ass of a beast
Cause’ your pot-belly may come in the way
And you might incidentally step on gas
And I wouldn’t want to be in the way, do I?
So I don’t, Sir, like it
When your car sit there, looking at me.
I hope you took your pills Sir, I fear most
when you look startled
I might remind you of that scalawag who did your
daughter in, by the way is it boy or girl? Lucky you!
You might do me and blame it on passion
And your overpriced lawyer will make sure
You don’t miss your morning jogs
I know we haven’t crossed each other in any way
But I can’t cross this way, hope you understand
So I don’t, Sir, like it
When your car sit there, looking at me.
You look apprehensive, Ma’am
Could it be your son’s new friends? The ones
Dressed like me? Quite obvious you don’t dig
Greasy jeans,
But mine comes from the yard down
Wish I did it up in my room or the garage.
I may trip and you might freak
That I’m coming for your side mirrors
Guilt has been known to make people paranoid
So I don’t, Ma’am, like it
When your car sit there, looking at me.
Sorry Ma’am, I didn’t notice it was LHD
And is that a red number plate? That’s your son driving?
And sorry too young Sir, but I did mean the things I said
About you and your friends
I hope you are not on PCP, now that I can see
Your eyes, your eyes! Is it the TV? Must be the gaming
Whichever, young Sir, with you
I run out of luck fast and quick, hence I don’t want
To be just another point you whack to move a level
So I don’t, young Sir, like it
When the States’ car sit there, looking at me.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Homecoming.
Homecoming
I am on my way, going home
Away from the noise and congestion
Far from air pregnant with choking fumes
Where neighbours look at each other
with suspicion
And adventurers frowned upon.
Honking and hooting around me
Bring bout of anticipation
I am but an escapee.
As the bus tires kiss the tarI hug myself to escape the cold
On the misted window I draw a star
My sketching so bold
‘cause in my mind I am already there
Where I have forsaken so unfair
Unblinking stare from small boy in front
………I must be smiling, sheepishly
Are you also going home?
He curls up to the refuge of his mother’s bosom
Maybe my eyes are not smiling
They lost their glint to unanswered questions
Anxiety grows as the journey shortens
Comes from not knowing what it’s all about
Is it sadness or happiness?
The fresh cow dung smell will replace
Reek of cigarette and cheap whisky
Cheerful and dewy,
The hung and dry-heavy mornings.
The flesh challenges the mind
A cause of more uncertainty
Trees whistle a symphony in the sundown breeze
In the background, a concert of laughter.
The neighbourhood children are one,
Playing under the monkey’s golden sun
And making baby-love
So much abandon
That I dare forsake
Here at last! Always,
‘Cause I never left.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
I am on my way, going home
Away from the noise and congestion
Far from air pregnant with choking fumes
Where neighbours look at each other
with suspicion
And adventurers frowned upon.
Honking and hooting around me
Bring bout of anticipation
I am but an escapee.
As the bus tires kiss the tarI hug myself to escape the cold
On the misted window I draw a star
My sketching so bold
‘cause in my mind I am already there
Where I have forsaken so unfair
Unblinking stare from small boy in front
………I must be smiling, sheepishly
Are you also going home?
He curls up to the refuge of his mother’s bosom
Maybe my eyes are not smiling
They lost their glint to unanswered questions
Anxiety grows as the journey shortens
Comes from not knowing what it’s all about
Is it sadness or happiness?
The fresh cow dung smell will replace
Reek of cigarette and cheap whisky
Cheerful and dewy,
The hung and dry-heavy mornings.
The flesh challenges the mind
A cause of more uncertainty
Trees whistle a symphony in the sundown breeze
In the background, a concert of laughter.
The neighbourhood children are one,
Playing under the monkey’s golden sun
And making baby-love
So much abandon
That I dare forsake
Here at last! Always,
‘Cause I never left.
© lak'wab asis 2010
All rights reserved
Why Poetry
Beginning my studies, the first step pleased me so much,
The mere fact, consciousness- these forms- the power of motion,
The least insect or animal- the senses- eyesight- love;
The first step, I say, awed me and pleased me so much,
I have hardly gone, and hardly wish to go, any farther,
But stop and loiter all the time, to sing it in ecstatic songs.
Walt Whitman.
Great words by Whitman, the father of free verse, and what is life if you can’t live it? The moment breathes for sure, and only stepping back a bit and looking at it more critically do we unravel its mysteries, or simplicities; depending on how you look at it. I don’t know about you but poetry relieves me. I put in words these because I must. Why poetry chose me I know not, nor do I seek to find. It reconciles me in a so effortless manner that I find it the only response I can use to both richness and adversities of life. To reverently borrow Argyris Hionis’ thought “….the words are leeches that suck on my brain/ and poetry the ash that I use to pull them out”.
I write automatically, just as I live automatically, hence my self assertion that I'm no poet, probably I lack that humility to live by the word. I will however enjoy building verse now and then so please, sincere critics, jump right in and bite a chunk.
Poetry sometimes goes beyond just expressing yourself or penning down those thoughts you deem worthwhile, bring to life my imagination and give it permanent form. The American poet John Holmes said that it’s “the satisfaction of springing at last the obstinate words into the stubborn line”.
The mere fact, consciousness- these forms- the power of motion,
The least insect or animal- the senses- eyesight- love;
The first step, I say, awed me and pleased me so much,
I have hardly gone, and hardly wish to go, any farther,
But stop and loiter all the time, to sing it in ecstatic songs.
Walt Whitman.
Great words by Whitman, the father of free verse, and what is life if you can’t live it? The moment breathes for sure, and only stepping back a bit and looking at it more critically do we unravel its mysteries, or simplicities; depending on how you look at it. I don’t know about you but poetry relieves me. I put in words these because I must. Why poetry chose me I know not, nor do I seek to find. It reconciles me in a so effortless manner that I find it the only response I can use to both richness and adversities of life. To reverently borrow Argyris Hionis’ thought “….the words are leeches that suck on my brain/ and poetry the ash that I use to pull them out”.
I write automatically, just as I live automatically, hence my self assertion that I'm no poet, probably I lack that humility to live by the word. I will however enjoy building verse now and then so please, sincere critics, jump right in and bite a chunk.
Poetry sometimes goes beyond just expressing yourself or penning down those thoughts you deem worthwhile, bring to life my imagination and give it permanent form. The American poet John Holmes said that it’s “the satisfaction of springing at last the obstinate words into the stubborn line”.
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