Lines More Lunatic Than The Sun – 9 Poem by murari sinha

for her
who looks most beautiful in red orna
i’m carrying the best wishes of those lilies
blooming on the iron-grill

When the blue-lotus is becoming more intense
within the rain pipe
i’ve lost the gate-pass of my earthly-birth

this world of secret inclinations and intentions
written in the letters of wild-jasmine

here to take a step
there is the ring-worms
to extend the hand
there is hydrophobia

so many nicknames for the boat-sinking
so many infiltrations

here the information from akrur catered much more
on the skin of masala-muri
than on the misti-dai
much more dance of the algebra

when by the hands
stolen from the sheep-herd
i’m sweeping the fallen leaves
it repeatedly comes to my mind today
that many market-price does not see me alive
even-then each powder-puff is scripting me
on the soap-water