untrammeled forays into gnashes of root

An ounce of grit goes some way in mending
The roof thereby giving respite to landseekers
Whose daylight was robbed by so many ounces
Of untrammeled forays into gnashes of root.

A trip down south goes some way in mending
The roof thereby lifting grime out of resplendent
Armories bedecked with toothless guards standing
On untrammeled forays into gnashes of root.

A whit of guilt goes some way in mending
The roof thereby mixing daybreak with felled oil
Streams struggling to get the dirt off its slick
Pronouncements that prophesize in proportion
To untrammeled forays into gnashes of root.

Joining

As newsprint dissolves in nighthood, as

Whisper coalesces anew in forgetting, as
Mine and yours are joined in coupledom, as

Meandering meets coming forth and jumps, as

The forsaken and the counted are put on stage, as
Moon is shade is night is shade is light is shade as now.

accepting gravel

The dead perhaps are going somewhere too
On the train to the land across the lake which

Bleeds sour blood at the foot of the river which
Joins it asking it to look up to the tallness of the

Peak which towers beside and marvel at the
Edifice while accepting its flow of gravel along

Side water.

the gunk zone

There is this gunk zone where parakeets shoot
Long bearded trapezoidal tangents as part of
Normal conversation.

There is the gunk zone where demagogues ass
Emble paradoxical polygons out of sheer bored
Om – the silent om.

There is the gunk zone where longitudinal essays
Chart off into hyperbolic arrests and pythogorean
Platitudinal digressions.

joy and will

The act of will does, can do. It is only
the will that permeates sediments of
joy.

The act of joy consummates. It is only
joy that informs the intent, the act of
will.

To err is to progress, the modern under
taking, the then coming to terms with
now.

Axioms of rhythm

The axioms are hardcore human intangibles
Invariant after transformation, insoluble, integral

To the business of playing ruthless games of
Chance and rhythm, cyclical only because the

Necessary transmutation to gold has been disproved
Again&again, otherwise plain and tangential to

The essential play of soft tugs on an unseen harp
Fleeting the grasp of rigor, fleeing the mask of fate.

thought experiment

call it calm call it storm – dark thought-experimented stuff that fills the nooks of
right and wrong, fills the nooks of argument: darkly thought out attempts at reason

created for the sake of, for the night, for the passage of experiment; the craft
survives; call it craft, call it storm – dark thought-crafted stuff that fills the corridors

of night and song, fills the corridors of argument darkly thought at attempts at reason
created for the sake of, for the rites of to-do and not-to-do; the sun gathers.

the void

the stigma of the loss of the present tense will
bear heavy on the verbs and nouns used to denote

the past; the present
tense
is lost, and inflated adjectives attempting to cover
the loss of nouns are hot air vapors claiming,
wanting
earth.

The haste, the damned haste, and nothing but the haste

The haste, the damned haste, and nothing but the haste
Nothing but the naught that begat the haste

The naught that was wrought, no sooner than the fall, sooner
Yet the saving, the damned saving, who would thus care

To be saved given the ought wrought by naught? The
Small, the less than free, the gates which close at dawn.

Taking a tangent from Jon Elia’s verse from Shayad (pg 123)
haasil-e-‘kun’ hai ye jahaan-e-kharaab
yehi mumkin tha itni ujlat maiN