chayamsu v r

every man has his own flies,
every man has his own ways.
he can hunt and kill his flies,
for their bright and humming flights,
...

tastes cooked in
some anonymous agonies.
sorrows void of causes are
terrible baneful dictresses.
...

music has been scattered into broken throats
on a string of the waning lyre as i tried.
lyre was broken down and splashed,
some in my notes, and some in yours.
...

the void
roared in full-throated ease;
the vibrant blues
flung a lightning or two;
...

another night has come
flinging far off
the riddles of the day.
the night breeze,
...

on my way home
the dark sky
darted drops
and drenched me.
...

I know you won't care
To peruse this thoughts.
Is it not your frailties
Of vehement adversity,
...

This is the time of isolation;
the interminable warmth of that kiss
vanished into a hallucination,
sticking the window panes,
...

all the men and women
with the cam and paper
reached the sprawling spot
where some cobwebs stretched,
...

then the colours of the sky
began to pervade itself
slowly into the vanishing sun
and into night spread with black velvet.
...

when the ages coaxed a smile
from the dawn,
the night fluttered in the cages,
to stumble over the thresholds
...

if you meet me by chance
among the caravan of ages
passing through the deserts,
stare at me
...

the birds fly away.
the passersby part away.
we are in dreams.
o! monsoon clouds,
...

the streaming whisper of the time
throbs on the whole being,
as the dusk dooms,
for us to awaken
...

a man died
and while his soul was strolling
in a heavenly corridor,
even before the body burnt to ashes,
...

the rain came.
the rain drained.
some cool drops flashed into the heart,
retrieving something forgotten
...

a cool breeze
rustled through my trees.
a floating flock of clouds
whispered in my ears;
...

o, mother,
where are you now?

i am alone!
...

o! my slate and o! my pencil,
count you all these sums for me,
by the break of morrow dawn,
i'll buy a milkice for you.
...

she takes a fright
of one-eyed day,
and slyly peeping night,
and the breeze
...