An interesting conversation

An interesting conversation
walked up to me tonight.
I said,
"Hey! How are you doing?"
"Its been a while! "
She walked away.

-- Harish Suryanarayana

Support

Crying for a sign
Crying for some foresight
Crying for a definition of what is
right and wrong
I am not strong, I am not
a pillar
to lean on.
There is no one to speak to
no one will understand
or will they, only too well.

I have only you
the darkness of the night
the quiet whirring of the fan
to keep me company
Do not leave me now
I need you to speak to
to scream at
to claw my way out of this delusion
a deluge of delusion
web after web, wave after wave
I create my own world
and soon it becomes true
It becomes life
and I sit content
on my rocking chair,
pulling at the threads
in the abysmal depths of night
one by one by one.

-- Harish Suryanarayana

A day at work

- - -

- Harish Suryanarayana

Patience

Even if the wind blows east
and the sails are tied up tight
memories of a storm this summer
stirs up butterflies
The might of the ocean
and its vacillating moods
a naughty sprite one moment
an irascible Poseidon the next.
Patience, sailor, patience
when I set sail
I closed my eyes and prayed
the ocean is what it is
my boat is what it is
and only with time will I learn
the true nature of the ocean,
of the boat, and of myself.

- Harish Suryanarayana

For Sandya

Our journey begins
with large Peruvian jars
filled with autumn leaves
of hopes and dreams
buried deep
under the impure sands
of our daily lives.

And as we sit on our beach
contemplating
sharing the little space that we have
seashells echo
the intermittent whispers
from a fisherman's old radio.

And all consciousness
is held together
by a dark strand of music
as we float
across a serene amethyst-violet sky.

-- Harish Suryanarayana

Sandya and Bheeshu, congratulations and wish you a delightful married life. (June 21st, 2010)

Rant about love.

What do I know about love.

Make love, bake love

manufacture it

plastic love

I dont have any of it

What do I know about love?

I have never kissed a girl.

Her tender soft lips

dont exist for me

it exists for a jerk who had

the guts to tell her

that he wants to kiss her

the very first time they went out.

not for me

Ill just look and admire and smile

and melt and worship and die

Die for a caress from her lips?

She will talk about me

Nice guy, she'll say

he cooks well,

he is courteous and graceful

and a good singer and athletic

and then she'll forget completely

as her hands are in someone elses

some jackass who proposed to her

when she was sixteen

when they thought love

was another flavour of coffee

What do they know about love?

I know nothing

I am sick of love

sick of knowing that I dont know

sick of even writing this poem

I should stop

I have no right to write

when all I have is thought

and all I have done

is naught.

What does anyone know about love?

Three princes, one poet

There was sounding of horns
and pomp and splendour
and gaiety and laughter and light
Tonight the king's daughter,
the king's only daughter
will choose her prince tonight.
Crowds gathered in thousands
for the choice of a king
was an important matter indeed
Who will win her hand ?
Which young and handsome
prince in this contest, succeed ?

From lands that were far
and wide and long
and smooth and hilly and bright
Three princes, riding
their royal steads
rode royally into sight
Bedecked they were,
in the best of pearls
vast oceans in disguise
sylvan silks with streaks
of gold, their princess
to entice.

She strode out slow
sweet autumn breeze
she knew she could stir the leaves
she was sky,
the fire, the earth, the water
the air in a single heave
She looked at them, but
turned away
what sheer inanity!
Three noble men
with the noble intent
of looting her nubility

She said No
and turned and left
to her dreamy room above
They knew
not that she was snug
in the heady arms of love
Could they ever touch her
with their silver and
their swords
as He dressed
and draped her with
the finery of his words

This is the truth
in the scheme of life
she never gave them a chance
When in love, she
fell
into an unmitigated trance
Remember wistful lover
love's ancient
masquerade
the game is played
in a poet's mind
before the game is played.

- Harish Suryanarayana

PS: This was a poem I wrote for my poetry class, read out loud, on the penultimate day of class.

M

It matters

not

I looked away ~

when She

glanced at me

Her poignant grey

pale moist eyes

make me cry

in poetry class.

- Harish Suryanarayana

Poetic Wish

Its the perfect time for poetry.
I have not done anything
for the last three days
in hope of regaining my creativity

The poet can sleep for days on end
and claim that he is thinking
he is working
and the claim is true
for what is a poet
but a person trying to describe his own reflection
looking at a mirror stained by his perception

No doubt what he writes makes sense
only to him and to people like him
and to those who think it makes sense
because they see a shadow and think it is theirs

And if the poet succeeds in making fools
of thousands and thousands
he can make a living
and claim to be above all and intellectual
and people will worship him and put him
on a tall pedestal and the girls
will woo him and sleep with him
and slowly destroy his ability to
delude the world and himself that he is great.

And me, in writing this poem
am delusional
am crazy
am pure ennui
and hope this will make some girl
want to sleep with me.

by Harish Suryanarayana

PS: Inspired by Charles Bukowski's poetry

Her

How can I tell you about her
Being a mere mortal,
my senses are not enough
to take in the expanse of her beauty
Lost in her tousled black hair
for days and days
I search for salvation
And then a word from her
and I am lost again
in the sweetness of her voice
Why does she tease me like this ?
Like a fantastic poem,
every time I meet her
she is different, or is it me ?
And I spend all my time
trying to figure out her puzzles
imaginary problems with no solution
while she spends her days in bliss
Every night, before I sleep
I only hope she knows.
I only hope she knows.

You

Time drifts by
flotsam on a slow river
nowhere to go, nothing to achieve
existing to exist.

My soul is hungry
depleted and lonely
A single tree facing
a vehement storm
my leaves fall away
one by one.

The sunset
a distant horizon
and all I can do
is sit and think
about you.

- Harish Suryanarayana.

Musings in desperation

-----------------------
In deep sleep
her hand touches my lip
a shiver
-----------------------
distant thoughts
I hug her pillow
smell of jasmine
-----------------------
intertwined hands
many waves
one golden moon
-----------------------
Harish Suryanarayana

Delusion

Mind maurauded
looted,raped
Stop this futile addition of zeros
Stop this programming
Mindless hours of decadence.

Consumerism !
You have to own a car!
You have to own a house!
Why ?

Redefine your life.
Society! Shut up !
Stop feeding me your execrable ideals
People all sheep !
All sheep fighting to own more.
Look at yourselves and weep

For where there could have been
a happy musician
now stands,
a haggard zombie in a suit
Is your coat and your car
enough for you?
In your final eight minutes
I assure you, friend
You'd live your life again
and when the time comes
to decide,
You will choose without hesitation
What you want! What YOU want!

This internecine struggle
between heart and mind
This is Maya. This is delusion
Throw it away. Cast it aside
and you have
YOU! You have GOD.

- Harish Suryanarayana

Ashima

You drive me crazy
My love, is not pure clarity insanity as well ?
I do not know why we are here
I do not know what is good and what is bad.
All I know, is that I love you
And today I hold your hand as it moves
millions of tiny random motions over mine
And as your breath caresses my chest
All boundaries are shattered, my love
I know, for sure,without any doubt
That you exist and I exist
And we, are one.

No Reasons

I love you not , for your looks
demi-goddess that you are
enchanting the mortal world

I love you not , for your innocent smile
which can in one simple curve
show me the meaning of existence .

I love you not , for the twinkle in your eye
a hint of mischief ,
like a dash of chocolate on vanilla

I love you not , for your talk
a voice which can melt
the un-meltable.

I love you because you are , and I am .