Chess Love

Love at last is drawn on the chessboard

you and me at the far pavilions of life

dressed like saints and playing chess

to see whose got the rook and knight

take over the king for love of the queen

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A Strange love

Hiding behind the fence

picking love at last in flowers from the floor

there’s a hand of God in the reckoning of love fete

where the pygmies fall for the giants

only to be called moles on the mountains

To watch the movie in tie-breakers

as the game of soccer which like

the bees walking upon the behives

leaving behind the love potion in making

consumed dot by dot by the gents

on a June day that’s usually hot

and they fancied poison for a strange love instead

The Soccer Sunday

Woke up to the tapping sound of light rain on the other side of paradise

It was, in fact, a drizzle and the world cup of football is two paces ahead

and the sleep in the eyes reserved from watching late night soccer games

makebelieve balls to goals as if a magician is calling the name of Goddesses

The fruitful Sunday, the God’s birthday is upon the stakes of daily sport bets

will there be enough ripe sweetness in the fruit soccer produces for the day?

The Church bells rang a tedious sound why is there a religion of soccer hey?

Took a walk on stopping of rain and read a magazine while fending for rice

Nothing is as hasty as the news on Politics and today’s soccer games call for

attention as to who will wear the Divine crown on a pitch of socialist Russia

Damn the war it is love that fills the minds of fans without ennui and speech

Kill the Lovejoy is a distant call of fairies in the skies who can’t see Pope lose

to a goal of Ronaldo baptized as the son of God who never is put on the cross.

 

The Vocalist

“Jam it,” said the violinist

“there goes the hell,” said the guitarist

while the vocal artist sang the dead tunes of winter

now in the month of June it felt like a December solstice

when she would tie her head in a drape calling for the days

that she roamed around the outskirts of Montreal

She sang the Marine Song of long farewell

While on the beach in Mexico she had left the seas to become a doctor

and in the US she fairly lipped the tunes of time

She sang a lovely forlorn tune of separation

The lead drummer caught in the eye of the storm

and said Good Bye!

While she hovered with an intellectual,

who was dead drunk on time and space

and who held her hand and danced the time to forget

Canada Day!

The Evil Afternoon he took the bus to Puerto Rico

And slept on the floors of the bus station as if mopped by wind in his salutation

She called the evil afternoon a gay science to recover from

throngs of love.

They both skid on the surface of sea to stop the killer love game

of evil afternoon in its empty shoes!

The Fan page

Where the memories rest in anticipation of love

where the mountains are climbed by the moles

Sit the biggest fan of the sun,

a poet so poor as to eat half a meal a day

and under the shaodows of his head comes the sparrow

which listens to the beat of a maiden’s music

with tightening noose as the prison around the mob

which listens to her, the poet being a fan of the sun

whorshipes the maiden’s shaodow endowed with love

the poet having missed all the meals arose

and left the garden in silence for the clouds had engulfed the sun

and with the falling rain came the last dirge

the sun having floated to the other world

where lives the maiden’s father and the poet

having left the garden turned on the fanpage

of the cosmos with the sparrow pecking at maiden’s hourglass

who was the goddess of dirge that the heavens listened to her

and now the poet had fallen asleep over the fanpage

and dreamt about the other world of heavenly bodies

revolving around him!

 

 

Maiden Song

The beautiful sound errupted from the vale

a dancing maid took to the eyes with storm

bulging her eyes she crossed with the starry lover

who kept on singing the song of forsaken lore

Now she called upon the distant maid

her partner in the silly shove of potato crop

they were potato eaters now groping for more

love and love upon castles built in the air

Longing for her dreams, she danced lightly on her toes

as silently he played the dulcimer only to abandon

the song and the place in favour of mountains maroon

a galore!

 

 

 

 

A momento

I have a rhythm that blinds
the light falling from the sun
cut off into half like the melon
that I had put aside with pride
I would feed her with delight
and carefully nudge the body entwined
in a whisper,I hush the room
and bending upon the shadows
is the sunlight fixated upon the marble
stones where is the God? then
In a loose heaven off the north pole
on the dawning haze that I
open the door into a blazing day
hardly rubbished by time.
My time has been mend by the clock
on the wall. Here is the bend in
time and space and the empty room
is the place where all meet to forget
A tango!