one night one drop one dream

a smile is a lifeboat
crashing against the lighthouse winds on a day that auckland drowned
emma’s crown and palm trees
a smile sweetens my milk
as i chomp on the beef
a long city left behind
a small town still to call my name

seeing you spread

on an orange floor made me realise
how lonely i was
and she was wearing her maroon jacket
how lovely she was

french connexion

remember that hug in cuba outside the farm and million lights came to spark
i was the political poet and you the busy activist i went to the tibet rally
and somewhere it slowed down
for over a week you have million friends
as ships look set for picton
and northerlies blew first on park bench
under the aluminium globe
it was love
and at ten burger king was disturbed

the storm

kept tearing at auckland
wellington and greens and leaves and moisture on sunday windows

mom

mom thought it was okay if i drew
and kachori felt it was good
but i coated the square boxes
and made cartoons out of my parents
and learned how to draw a shoe
mom smiled

owl

the wise owl sat in class IV
a few pages before arthur pulled
his sword and merlin watched
in ink

red post office

and you
wanted to collect my little pictures of parrots and roses bathed in crAyon
as i rushed through santa cruz plane garden post office
in feb 1993
long ago

doctor doctor

today your car is stuck in bombay rains after a week of distraught Caesarian nights
we walked this streets you know to the edge that showed skyscrapers reflecting in mosquito rivers
under dark yellow lights we spoke of her
who never returned
through those dark friendly streets
its that time again
you have a son
but everything else has changed
like the 11th road
and the dark wooden door that had garden on the otherside
i had kissed her there

dark

green river

under blue grey clouds

flows

bull dog with the green eyes

leaks feminine eye pods

nothing happens

as yet another day rolls by

winds blow the small duck waves

milford sounds

a something stirred
in the quiet moon night
as waves spoke a silent tangi rain song

and something moved
it was neither chooky nor me
nor a hone's freedom poem

we were safe that night
on the northshore beach

afternoon intrusion

through the foliage an old school clears my path
as I draw on you
cell beeps.
end up at your door step
crimson purity with a christian patience
we talk as the cat jumps the green wall
we smile and share a century of information
in an hour
the girl in the dream could be an angel
I was hoping it was you
since last life

thus dark clouds surround us

and rain flies on aluminium roofs

and birds freeze and fish blues

the night moon is nowhere on starlight

henderson is empty in a string of e-psychos

each and every one of them

auckland is warm with winston's hatred

zb and live want to pick on us.

one flew into a tweety’s heart

just when the rains fell
victoria was grey like a dead sparrow in rialto
the vegetarian shop had the right taste
chillies sung a green tune…

your hair flows like a summer field
and lips way in coffee red lips
as rains burn the summer dream
and river green goes river grey the mist will lift

and hunt begins 24 shots miss the dart board
as smiles are exchange and i awake a rainy day
a stormy life

dashing crashing lashing

ice on the road as houses shake on Island bay and love takes a soft respite

one more night

howling whistling water falls
shake leaf-houses shake the snakes of island bay
in an old cinema a coffee maker sings love songs for swiss melanie

no nostalgia Mighty River Green

lime waters
reflect
brown ducks

and

a silver moon
o'er an old
wooden train bridge
as

we walk!

trains over cliffs on friday the 13th

Tearing the mist on Island Bay is a song from Aandhi and another from
Jism after a hearty dinner of alu mutter (pea and potato) made exactly
the way mom made them. Mom is fine. I took the train to Wellington on
Friday the 13th after Lemona's mom dropped me. I finally left my
karmic connection with Hamilton. No drama, no sensitive staring at the
green moon river, no nothing. Cambridge was a respite but then the
marriage party started coming and I had booked the train journey that
started 10 minutes late with a one-woman army who was the ticket
person, the coolie, the station master and turned into our tour guide.
The train though small was on the posh side with a panaromic window
that showed the brown rail-tracks over bridges and fir trees and
national parks but then Friday the 13th showed its true colours after
I got the sandwich on a discount in the train cafetaria. The lady was
nice to me. On our tracks a train had derailed and thus both the
trains on either side were stuck. One from Wellington to Auckland and
another from Auckland to Wellington and thus the passengers were
exchanged through an in-between bus journey and Wellington train went
backwards literally. So I had my back to the engine like the rest of
the gang. Not very comfortable but besides the usual horses, sheep and
cows and I was bored and had missed my bus to Napier and thus would be
stranded in Wellington in a backpacker but luckily my ticket was valid
to Wellington and I finally found my flatmates number and texted her
and after texting the other flatmate organised that I could keep my
luggage there over texting since I was supposed to arrive in
Wellington on 24 but they were good…the flatmates I had never seen.
My luggage posed additional problems as it was too much and I could
not move my stuff to the taxi stand nor bus stand. Luckily, the hot
train staff gave me a ligt to island bay and my flatmates picked me up
on a warm night in winter outside a Malaysian Satay restaurant. The
house is on a hill and has the most stunning views and Fi gave me
blankets, a hug, lots of smiles and thus I got to stay in the sleepout
like Karin and Campbell go away for two months on 24th.
On the first day in the most golden sunshine, I walked to the shops
and walked to my Arts School. It is the most breathtaking place on the
planet. Imagine Xavier college in the Amazon jungle. The entrance has
a thick foliage and then you see an old building that looks like a
church and is probably haunted and has the nation's best designers,
carvers, clay model, painters and illustrators teaching there. I sat
there for two hours and then walked back on the pedastrian pathway on
the edge of the mountain with white railings and across the second
hill is my house. When we stand on clear days you can see the whole
Island bay and all the houses on the slope that leads up and today it
was misty and planes did not fly and we went to shop in Pak N Sav and
initially the mist felt cold and it lifted and became sunny again. I
went to the library and after a month of not working and travelling
and resting in colourful cambridge; am bored and ready to start any
job.
By the way they are going to read my poem on radio.
It is 10 pm and I am thinking of the best part of the train journey
over the straight right angle cliffs over white river rafting river.
That was the best part of the journey…otherwise a headache induced
by salted peanuts and backward movement

Cold Walk

Having rested and rested for nearly ten days now and a successful
detox, on a rather sunny morning I decided to explore Cambridge. Not
the town side but the mountain side. The yellow red orange fruit tree
that crows eat outside the house is called Persimmon and once you get
used to the taste is really grows on you; the taste not the tree.
It got got cloudy in no time but not the dark cloudy but the silver
cloudy in Russian movies where the trees look barren and I was
disappointed with a dull brown maple tree but I was wrong. This was
not maple it was a look-alike and had seven-sided leaves.
I passed scenic horse stables with huge brown and black horses flowing
on the meadows and i picked up a frozen butterfly dead and looked at
with poetic and artistic interest and a delicate eye and did not know
what to do with it so threw it. Rob once said that Cambridge was a
beautiful part of the country and I walked waving to the occasional
black car and electrical and plumber on wheels and a farm mobile and
the horses ran alongside me as I decided to jump the fields.
When we were young and our foot fitted between two thorns of barb
wires I used to jump the fields all over borivali that had huge fields
then.
A billy goat came and wanted to speak to me as I stood and spoke some
gibberish to the goat. It was a huge goat not the small ones we eat in
India but a mountain goat. No one eats Billy goats here. In fact male
goats are too hard anyway.
I met a female jockey who asked me if I liked the horse and i said the
combination was beautiful. I saw black and white sheep that ran away
from me and then the maple trees. red, Beige, Khakhi, Cream, Purple
Lavender, and Yellow leaves. but the real yellow leaves came on my way
home as I walked 8 odd kms through bare trees and imitated bird sounds
and kept them interested and walked through Kings Land which has a
cluster of lovely houses, not like the country villas with huge
windows back on St Kilda Rd. But the leaves that had a distinctive
shape were really bright happy sunshine smiley yellow. The cows were
grazing and I saw a field with black and white cows whose milk as not
as good as the brown cows that are typical to India and anyway these
cows are injected with everything to keep them milky.

old man

sea raging lighthouse wild blizzard
icy lions sweating on heels
turning lights as gay seagulls
swinging bats as smoke catches the electric eel
tattered holding fort bleeding one word at a time

–

small mild cup of coffee

an old wooden russian bucket is home
grey dog dogs days
city winds black
grey cook strait
leaf jumps. dies.
waikaremoana bleeds
waikato leaves
waitakere croes
a star falls
& another
& another

horses fly let them eat the violin

who cares

black red lipstick swan floats
every grave had it's own poetry

fat one high window has sea
other collects dust
a bumblebee's gliding glee

Taupo Song continued — Yellow Red Maple Leaf Winter

Second Half

5
The clown I love more than yellow and blue kiwi buses where danger
meets speeding boats & tumbling rocks
and flowers. No one needs to die tonight
Let me sleep besides the ducks who
gives a fuck at best it rhymes with Alexia's
helicopter black wings black cars
on bright days smile like Sesa. If
I had to love one, just one for the rest
of my new world life. One that I could
pack and save in the warehouse of my heart.
It would still be Emma or May. No one else'd do

I fly to queenstown christchurch and a french colony
with a Maori name and fail the 5000th assignment
cause humans have a million problems no grass
to lie on or smiling Samoans

6
A fish knows my name like a small juhu lane light
where Savitaben Shah died
the gospel has a camoflage smile
recycled for flying ducks. The fat racist cunt Natalie
calls us foreign friends. Oh Peter don't suck up to Pakehas
and find yourself a foreigner in your own land

Mangoo does not give a fuck for red double-decker buses
just cousins. No fish and chips shark song kiss as mom
and daughter laugh at racist slurs. Lie a little
No one has to die tonight. Wellington calls, trees grateful
no wasps here. Do we need a scanner, Mr Allen. Or just pee on grass
I promise M I will sing ghazals from Q st to Albert Unity, a learning licence
scootie is brilliant idea better than ghosts sleeping by your side

52nd flower 2008th root

wright from reception
dark turmoil steps from black rooms
you smile like gentle yeats
a laughter fills the murky abbey

Life’s a theatre. you say I can always take
that paper next year. (Yeah, wright!)

you are solace in dead silence
understanding and so strong at that stage

Strictly on relative choice
it’d be me. mom unwell depression tablets

not working. Familiar plot?
your wooden desk is still alive
as you walk on 13th century portraits

kate knows you are home
i know you aint alone

oh men and their hidden chambers
david you were our pride.
a goliath of a legacy.

farewell my friend

frankton train

it rains and pours and cries and bleeds and million specks of nothingness hold your love melanie
i take the train and pack and throw and hold and laugh and leave and cry
on a lonely station at 9.30 on a dark morn of friday the 13th
I will wait as light turns green through the tunnel over a green river for the last time melanie
and brown ducks that chase you to waikato
will be gone as you take your plane to your icy winds and neutral place and a dad that flies a plane
i paint and run and hide and freeze in wellington in an ancient art school by an old fire and a cat
and think of you melanie

falling

I met Melanie in Wellington in a backpackers near cuba where pigeons jumped into the fountain and paddington coat factory looked stunning and the museum had a hanging red plane and oil paintings and dark caves.
In a backpacker I met you

I was falling fallen dark angel holding twigs on puhinui road fallen revel falling morrie lang fallen dubai’s dark mistress mount roskill wakena’s clendon, roskill, clendon waterview, bp, falling roskill
onehunga, eden roskill bombay revel, rewa, bombay, city, hunter’s corner city, aut, henderson rescued by justin’s car bombay, ace’s cold warm lab city aut’s light buried in a storm kingsland, may rd, warehouse
weedhouse, harekrsna ymca papakura, henderson bogenville psycho’s screaming madness city raglan, city akora, christchurch, queensland auckland, hamilton, wellington glenview, university, may road
mcnicol, adhyatma, frankton, wellington homing into your heart fallen falling in love with you Melanie
cambridge university napier wellington

No dark angel

clouding screens of Wellington
your swiss heart melted my soul

Winter plunge

a dark wind over silver beet
and yellow orange look alike that sparrows magnet to
awaiting a twisty path over mountain pathways
northland closes its misty gates to ravines downstairs

Library yellow flowers

smile’s a geometric window
yellow flowers beside iron lamp post
near the fountain and curry place
words float float float
your specks are a crab gone pretty
smile is for all and the blind soothsayer
looks into her scythe shaped yellow banana in sky
and a blue bright crystal ball
he’s unstoppable the dark lord that has cat fluff
on his new sniper jacket
It’s a moon in cancer pronouncing love
as your lips part bite smile…

Cause Cambridge sun is rising low

your curly garden kid
under a million stars
and smoke
and rain
and sun
and light

i await
the dark side train
to napier past wellington
i respite
breathing
the breathless love
of the brilliant night
with zillion stars

as i sleep on your large bed
and find home and
whanau
and friendship
and truth,
justice
intelligence
under the lemon tree

silver beet foliage
and a road
that shows
the world its love.

Cambridge

curly kid runs
amok with
sensitive eye
and homeless cartoon network

cause mold is gone
and garden gleams
in a glory of a bygone era
a smoke that
comes out of your chimney
as vodafone is kept in business

perfection is the pillow
that sleeps

heavy
and away

from fatigue
runs to sanddunes
in dreams and nights

a vigilant dad
awaits you home
that is millions of field miles
under a zillion stars
on a clear night

it is nature.
It is cows
horses
and
meadow green
and
love
for human beings.
as kids are warm
and granddad reads
and mauvi is lost
in his private paradise

the words are clear…
the lung needs air…
the air
that Cambridge bestowed
is unfortunately not there

as tongan marriage party
coming near
and cousins
and brothers
and tongan beauties
and all night
you need to sing and dance

save a lung you need it
while you still have a chance.

cave paintings

Ode to Wellington

Oh Wellington
I thought
thee art Bexity
in those ten days of my second coming

wellington
thy words have fallen into a green ocean where ducks float to the edge

I was chased out of here (before) by
cat poo and creaking floors
after a samoan
intercity handy night

I ran pacific shaken as birds flew
billed to the edge like everyone else from Lyall bay taxied for $35

As I stand here and wonder what
happened to emma’s
crying blue eyes I chase

Tepapapa’s
million portraits and victoria’s
nursing shadows from a dusty bagpackers

To
nomadic heights. I chase distant 18th century lanterns
over the oriental bay

Dan climbed faster than me as I spoke
to the cute nurse. Oh! I love cute nurses like I love librarians and old
castles and Anglican churches and graveyards

Day one was when we had Indian curry on
cuba street
and saw panaromic views of
the city and tried apologizing to old flatmates
but the bitch was a fat piece of crap at the edge of northland ready to fall in
her rotting wood like a insect with juicy breasts

Then came day two (technically day
four) but who wants to know about my first trip anyway?

I thought lower hutt was a beach and upper hutt where the rich lived not graffiti brats trying
to be black

Nor orange airport bus drivers that
hated life and living things and I swung on kid’s swings and slid down

The slide that faced the sea and Circa’s
Linda who thought American Pilot must be watched.

Was watched

Next day after what happens in vegas and
wheat juice as I bunked with 5 girls how lucky can backpackers get

Day three is when the only guy left and
the English snore girl left but the American and German cunt

And the nice pommy girls remained. I hated the german and found the anarchist
internet place

And without feeding the pigeons went up
the cable car and saw Island bay and Khandalla
and Mt. Victoria

Where a Chinese bus driver told me that
the city was egalitarian and the lights were real. Not Mission
bay

I thought

I had eaten my samosas and discussed women with downtown backpacker
guys and devoured kachori

And ate English hot cauliflower curry
what an error who’d think pommies
liked it hotter than frozen meat

The university gave me my wind cheater
jacket that can make you sweat but next day I cross cook strait

The grey morning got into stunning
sounds after hearing arctic stories and weed-ridden heart break song

The wind could blow
you
far
away

A library and friendly $2 museum and
the dutch
that cycled two islands to save africa’s children

And then I met hannah and of course Melonee…princess Taurus Melanie
like bex only few days
apart and what lovely women eternal and thus I saw Te Papa. Oh my god Tepapa made my life a work of art
and pictures kissed my soul and city’s traffic lights in oil and tram and red
post box made me breath but
Melanie left as I explored caves downstairs and stuff the birds who gives a
dime

And slept through the arvo after a hot feast and
Paddington Coat Factory’s lovely long jacket held Melanie as we smiled should
we have kissed?

The kiwi bargain hunting second hand wedding packed dan to palmy and I loved kapiti bay and how Saturdays were times when you got
a few deals.

Melanie and I were awkward again and
she spend time with her lot
and packed her bags with a ferocious noise and I was lost.

Found in empathy by Bex

And
the city gallery and the art gallery but Bex essentially Bex.
Connections from another world and I know…I was there.

But buses did not come through and taupo was lost and like Indiana
Jones I could not revive my first day at burger King and the second hand book
shop that had the most amazing legs on display

And the 7th day when Borders
looked bigger than a library and friendlier than a autumn coloured
yellow red maple leaves behind the bee hive and embassies

Bex
went home and Melanie was gone and all these people that we knew from last life
did not give a damn or pretended they did not understand

Dan left for Melbourne

He wanted to be worthy of the city

And return to Wellington

I met Kelly’s services and rested

And thought of all these that came from
nowhere like sharks at Mangonui

Tried the satay roti
paratha

A Singaporean delicacy that originated
in India

I ditched telecom and all my telecom
friends and called them fat and ugly

And in the pouring rains went into bird
sanctuary and future flatmates
windswept homes and cold Wellington
rivers as robins did their
things and Americans dropped me to botanical gardens

As an angry driver gave me hell

I won a sipper in the mall

And 20 push-ups later

A giant drink

I had enough.

Tomorrow I leave.

This was Bex’s city

And I will return and the sun came out

But everything else was dark for now.

Oh wellington you have been kind to me tonight.

meetin bex

running shadows you pack your bags and rains and storms and cook straitbleedsand paint falls on civic square and lies and misunderstandings of closedheartsbirds sing in their black sanctuary…Te Papa quakes and you know loveis commercea glance a smile and unsaid word a friend a laughter as light runsout…Bex is thereyou have a pal.

have i missed the boat

the English are leaving molten hole
as skies burst slightly open
and wellington wind keeps me slightly warm

day 8 and a half

on a cold morning
in a room without windows
a dark snake eats our souls
a bright light on the otherside of the river
out of reach in a land of alphabet

and numbers

connections occupy temporary posts

lying on the trampoline

the leaves are not exactly yellow and the evening gold blasts frankton's
rugby shouts
hamilton is going into its winter as I need the extra avil sleep
cycles bursting with energy and allow myself this pleasure under
tamarind tree
three more months and the winter will be gone
hope's little excited mellow gleeful screams as her dad chases her
aucklnad just a wee bit warmer…just a wee bit

may the 8th…

a soft light streams through a magnetic field and wood floors creak with joint injuries

2 a.m.s are not romantic times as a slow walk a delayed switch a multiplied exodus

from eden's stadium to mount roskill and smokes coming from red red earth

may the 7th…

a soft light streams through a magnetic field and wood floors creak with joint injuries
2 a.m.s are not romantic times as a slow walk a delayed switch a multiplied exodus
from eden’s stadium to mount roskill and smokes coming from red red earth

frozen fires

winter burns holes in my jacket

we walk towards the light

through siberian starlit sky canoe
russian millworkers
smokin fire

looking for an african lioness
triangles float freezing bones
savanna’s murderous run is taupo’s black magazine

storm

So I
go where

the wind

takes me

I am a maple leaf

in

autumn blast

Shoe horn & Kitchen

the pinkpot key cries

as the old wood shakes

on roofs and sound

three cats hide their true feelings

left some food on stove and heart at your door

frankton has mountains and lights at two and sarah’s

lipstuck swan swing the pond a lake in your german eyes

the car picked me up on time and life is hard on a soft bed

your moonlit body burns my soul

dhruv walks home from school

–

everyday women got shorter hotter

thought d at ten but asit’s brother bought wrangler for Rs. 20

we bought thums up500 for Re 1.65

at chiu kau

and I asked for tintin comics

and the posh pai nagar grain shop had rin tin tin

we were a poor community

that threw water balloons at vernacular girls

crazy though to throw a frozen balloon no one was hurt

and the ma poster

and diamond talkies played the action movies

as sanjay merchant traded casper and snoopy

crossing Devonport bridge

*
*

with a lady that came from green moon

her father grew the healthy stuff in his hippie fields

melanie smiled emma cried and needed emotional pills

the white words watch Irani football

as padre hit the ball and I ate the pink salmon

someone knows adhyatma

–

spiritual neo green moon

cold cold cold is the moon
fine for an opening line
but eyes are clear over Melbourne skies
and an old aborigine fire burning
in an adhyatmic hut
a jogan that sings krsna songs

a continent vibrates

last jay jay night

i tried to rope in and kite the knight moon
through the sky window above my bath
i thought of your moonlight beauty
and the fish that pond in jungle green
i thought of your nude light
and a crazy dream that last eek had been
and your breasts that heaved and paved
a love on a concrete slab cobbled stone pavement
the little hut that sees no light
but i see universe in your eyes julia

the janitor boy

knows cash rulz everything
and moon kills love
the one with old eyes

throwing black bags and green bags
listening to Michael learns to rock
philosophy sleeps in  a dream

sleep walking sleep talking

whistling at specks on a starry night

false blond

love is such a brittle thing that leaves the little bridge lame

her blond hair is a real thing that leaves her smile queuing

for her lips over a green river staring at an impossible moon

her voice a forever dream her waves a distant spring her love

impossible her heart can feel the fire of the false blond julia

a forever night separates spring from rain a dark angel a fox

gone grey early winter strikes your heart hurt hurdle I know

roses are murder and pineapple cats as feline your leo black pants

as she came knocking again

as she came knocking again
in may when the sun went down
tumbling stars came blinking burning near
eden’s thorns and aroma gone
stairs shook silently
Is it you out there?
a tear that linked us
denied us and slightly charmed the life out
as leaves fall again
and wind is cold

kiwi black sheep

dark moon river,
black river moon,
green moon bridge,
walking in a mist,
canadian whiff,
vancouver rumour,
brown are the ducks,
black the sky,
suneal suneal,
sun dark empire,
burning, slightly wild,
randomly reckless,
idea spot,
green moon river…

jess a mile away from here

cows love rock fm

looking at cows
milked to
tune of rock FM.

Holi Cow.
It’s colour in India
bleeding every heart
in an afternoon hot yellow dusty road.
in NZ not Raj.

is

walking on train bridge
thinking of jessica
staring at moonball
reflecting green waikato
water as train
comes reminiscence
a childhood circus.

stars over impossible fairview

*a night ticks next to the green paint box *

*the lights are glowing*

*small boat's sink*

*as stars rise fall fall fall rise again*

*your eyes are Canadian blue*

*the fireflies take the sky*

*waikaremoana comes to mind*

*we sit at the edge of wild jungles*

*outside an old school library*

*the **midnight** biker is scaring us*

*you pick up your packed bags*

*Anglicans are home tonight and emma long gone from*

*Parnell Henderson Waterview*

*no one has to die tonight*

last straws in several quarters

old men ride bikes
lavina's father came home
large hearts none understood
he consented after looking at plumbing

and black titanic that bhavin loved
the names are gone michelle
the names are gone

happening mountains

love surrendersrunning runninga handshake samoana night unevencity lakes hillsocean windsno sleep drizzles KepburnHorrid love cat stinksbad courses lead homea fresh airport calls my name

waikaremoana

indigenous pigeon
in a night burnt by freezing moonlight
and stars wannabe for attention
icy lake’s Christchurch hands
eternal love
and a little terrorism
in an old inn that asterix would love
scorched by sun
froze by lake
twisted the snakes
and a waterfalls with million specks
of Maori history
jail house rocks the blunt Indian curry
and a tanned face is eternal love
and the night that stared through an open gazebo
tiger
tiger
burns bright
in forest nights
at gmail and yahoo
slights and sparrows
pigeons and peacocks
a rustling fire in your Spanish eyes
a kiss on your maori lips

wind gone

damp wood cries with cat poodles
a falling house in a wind starved city
the rain sweats sits and dies
pakistan burns
wellington bleeds
hamilton sweats
india sleeps
us gets a pint from iraq
your mormon face smiles

On a quiet Minara Masjid night

decide to take a walk
down the darker streets
Bombay mosques and the debris,
Muslim side. lights Ramadan
Bombay Mutton Masala, Fish Tandoori, Chicken Biryani….
VEGAN Police guns AK47s. drugs and
Payal’s chicken masala

aluminium tub of hot water

the green blue bathroom where we kids blocked the water to make it a bath\
the time when yashi brought wada from churchgate
and we had to pass time to see amar akbar Anthony
and superman two and buying stuff from cheaper by dozen at elco
and the streets of colaba facing Arabian sea
the day when we threw water balloons and pale-fulls on girls
when we bought a gun in a pink pack for Rs 12
the cycle race at juhu beach just cousins
the first bharat TV that showed Santa Kookdee
Killbill and the phase
when Krishna terrace was the love joint
yes been there done that

bonny is hiding

behind the tank
its late night
and the papal tree hides
moonlight
we jump on black rusty ladder
water tank cement cave after treasure island
crime wave in mawiton
sardar’s khota scooter
bony’s car
natalie’s short shorts
jessy’s alive laughter (those were the days)
before she died we climbed mango trees
on summer afternoons
and freeman and pankaj were kind to me
with pepsi
and video games

Jumping on garden tops

*is a school butterfly that sings jailhouse rock* *
misses abyss carved out of stones* *
catches helicopter fly* *
a tadpole that thinks it's a fish*

*and all algebra sums are right
but proofs are impossible
and Natalie sheth's classic crush
tall in 83*

*waikato grass got that look on a hot morn
cows are in the field and bells on crosses
a beanie keeps me warm tonight*

*cool
cool
Canada*

*is **canada** dry
Wellington softly goes home*

black swan

Do you remember floating with me in a freezing lake in urewera jungles
at waikaremoana?
Do you remember eating vegetarian meal at a Maori tent in urewera
jungles at waikaremoana?

no year can start

or end

without

thinking of you
or
warkworth.
after two
months in hamilton
am going

to wellington.
got chosen
in the poetry
writing course.
spend new year
at
waikaremoana

with tame iti
and other terrorists
deep in the jungles
of urewera
in a gazebo
not a tent

in the freezing waters
where black swans swim.
and toi toi grows
like pampas

thought of you
and your fight
for moaris and
other just / fair causes

reminding me
of why you are
impossible to forget

if donkeys knew the colour of saffron

snake pits would be a safer place

as */wawa /*waters rise

acid for brain

colored to show waves

a coffe place goes begging

crying alone in the rains

a smile a heart a tadpole jumps

out of the muddy pond

a silence scratch

a banana yellow and dark
an arms truck filled with opium
warlords shouting chants on the street

as pakistan burns
tires on streets
wakes to a no tomorrow

night sleeps silently tonight

outside my venetian

love,

you are a saviour ,
you are
in europe
at will,
the dark lord
tides spider

intrusive is the moon at 4:00
like,a story
here a fantasy there,a
bus
leaves hamilton tonight

good bdays in bad years

chasing purple light cannot sleep tonight

dance drama passion betrayal

a dirty game suneal can play

let's play this the woman's way

lets fan fires die and life get up and over the

iron fence that you cherish

the cloud gauged

night sleeps silently tonight

outside my venetian love
you are a saviour
you are in europe at will
the dark lord tides spider like
a story here a fantasy there
a bus leaves hamilton tonight

las vegas darkness dark mistress

can coffee put one to sleep

as fat red cow with an engagement ring

bubbles the warm water in Jacuzzi

filled to the brim with anti-histamines

chlorine replicares tithal shores

40 degreez in a yet cold night

michelle is passé frame rulz the pictorian valley

of dandy lions bleeding in may 7000 times grey

Irene Irene one emma million irenes

cambridge sands jump to the skies

million dreams billion stars old book shops

abandoned lakes flying boats

singing waves

gold

silver

diamond rings

an old salvation hat lost

thailand chillies bounce in sky

you smile and old castles breathe

and water paintings come to light

farms pass and rainbows chunky

as lion's breath kisses fire dragon sounds

an old red café still around

love sings a new tune in your eyes

peace is having no questions Mandee

ass from hamilton

Oh teacher teacher you said you were red….and

kindly sarcastic to new unclicked boy

foreign friends you had your favours

prudence won and true and great

but I was late

crab and his single status frustrated the cobwebs

in the hole

you were my blood where were you

when 9 letters came

computers lost and palmed and pain

pity that

nothing came from you

in an old cowboy clown town that clicked

what happened there

psychedelic pity

screened a waterloo blade

no one volunteered for me

icr

I see her

Coming

On

line

have i?

done right?

By staying

invisible

then there was the guy on the street

he asked me not to judge his country on concrete slopes near ANZAC

he told me this is not how we are. I smiled

I knew in joe's barnee place with chap dog squeak

as I watched winded move clouds that hid sky tower

I knew that in emma's lap as she cried a waterview

don't go away she said and I labored at the warehouse

I have connected to your city sweet emma

there was this blond. scorpio femme fatale

in farmer's who gave me her picture number

she was from the city

but emma came and emma left

and mom lived died lived died lived died again

and the ace got stuck in the last heel

achilles elephant that passed through the eye of the needle

only the tail remained

and here I am in the city of a spa

hot too hot or cold too cold

and here I have made myself available

calling space waiting to go home

i will give you love that i never knew

I will give you sun and its treacherous UV defection
I will give you the white lie fickle as fuck the moon

I will give you May but not Amy
June but not Emma

I will never give you Emma
nor Wellington

las vegas darkness dark mistress

can coffee put one to sleep

as fat red cow with an engagement ring

bubbles the warm water in Jacuzzi

filled to the brim with anti-histamines

chlorine replicares tithal shores

40 degreez in a yet cold night

michelle is passé frame rulz the pictorian valley

of dandy lions bleeding in may 7000 times grey

Irene Irene one emma million irenes

false dream of the painted gypsy

wind chimes mad green apple fades

floats a million bubble thumping stars

into a bright windmill

it’s x’mas and the hens are running

the prostitutes have left Istanbul

danced a horrendous lie in her pregnant painted phase

sun is a thief stealing light

dark river flows in murky duck tails

little rays of golden hopeless untruths

tired warriors need to sleep

die kill feed before they eat

someone is cursing the red fort bells

calling jehangir the just

byron lost p-lot

still just one Emma

cow laurels

black dark green grey evil waters

of Wa’

over a moonless starless

powerless small pond

small city weed ridden

with

pork displaying hatred for terrorists

pork jumping beef bouncing

a brotherhood toils at a weak fashion

MNDNA

lovers kiss in central park hamilton

i munch a samosa or two

a duck or two float on a green river

a clean unclean dog dream and pee river

wooden bridge shakes cafe tea grass

a party on 8th

a blank birthday shoots bullets

central plaza tinsel silver shiny red

burning xmas plaza first meeting plaza

green jasmine iranian dream sparta anger

hugging plaza

orange juice.

blue eyes

opium plaza

guru plaza

aum jogger jumping joy plaza

 

Das

It was in those days when we picked up sticks
from Kamil’s Karkhana and the wooden sword was
made Dharam Veer style as we had a dual by
the Papaya tree & rubber band stayed Bharat’s nails broke
I was proud and dad laughed as wood painted blood sword
of Rawal broke. He died of Aids Bharat a few years ago

In those days das came to stay in our small room
during the day as sunlight’s microdust came through
Eastern window
Das praised me and patched Utkarsh’s many
knickers so I could tear them at play
and promised me that I would win a dual
with Boman Irani

Das and me went to his hillcrest garbage down Dahisar
slum and made potato wada from memory
on a nice afternoon when he shaved and showered
and said ‘waaah’ even Alexander would not do this
ghost stories and magic continued
and carrom board games we won and lost
and books I cut and patched in smaller books
I stitched. Small was beautiful
except for my women

Dubai Adarsh Sev Mamra factory

there is a lie in ever corner
but the lie is beautiful pig
it's getting cold

Dubai glitters
on the moat
in the ferry

across the bridge is
temple mosque bur dubai
deira is sweet and filled

with street walking slits
in a black saudi arabian night
filipinos will smile

russians with burn
sands bleed
and chinese walk the shore line
without a brass

Glittering waikato

Remember the night I walked from that 7 star studded beach
What was the name
The Americans were in bikinis
And the Germans believed in IT prowess
What was the name of that beach

7 dhms I paid and Ajit crashed his car
as I crossed Bur Dubai to Deira
to your Choopa Choop shop

toy shops and levis dukaan
with thick banana shake
parathas from Malaysia

and red chilli sweet sauce
from thailand

can we kill one camel at a time

In an ancient bazaar

On a shore behind a wall I ran to pee

They sell fresh fruits & locals are there

No camels just khajoors and gunny bags

And those small potatoes that give arabs

Their Arabian nights. I am not Iranian but Pakistanis

Believe with their sharjah hangover of a cheated cricket match

"You cant trust them" the horse power potato costs

70 dhms a kg. discos are full of you and lavinas

glitterati and rashi's dreams of unfaithfulness

burj al arab/jumeira beach

Rising shaped like a boat in the night

As Mahesh flies to 100 miles to dhabi

Ignoring cameras and going to sleep

By a bonfire on a night Arabic sky

Tazaaa Chai

then rush to the slums behind
our building to the small million
shops with their cute lights
pass the egg house big house
kidney stone nurse house
go for the paper hanging sachets
Red Lipton blue Brooke Bond
Yellow for fifteen paise
avoid the muck JUMP
over the dirty brook
Jump over other grime
JUMP over the ghetto
return to the small house
in the nig building
where cate came from kitchen window

Dad’s Early Morning Tea

walk half asleep
buffalo dairy half closed
half jumping watching cowboys in wooden heels
cleaning cowshit buffaloes sweep
flies with ears
we are scared
Jumped over slippery
green waters moss Pee
buffalo moved

Dad’s Early Morning Tea

walk half asleep
buffalo dairy half closed
half jumping watching cowboys in wooden heels
cleaning cowshit buffaloes sweep
flies with ears
we are scared
Jumped over slippery
green waters moss Pee
buffalo moved

Dad’s Early Morning Tea

walk half asleep
buffalo dairy half closed
half jumping watching cowboys in wooden heels
cleaning cowshit buffaloes sweep
flies with ears
we are scared
Jumped over slippery
green waters moss Pee
buffalo moved

Dad’s Early Morning Tea

walk half asleep
buffalo dairy half closed
half jumping watching cowboys in wooden heels
cleaning cowshit buffaloes sweep
flies with ears
we are scared
Jumped over slippery
green waters moss Pee
buffalo moved

;

slightly bitter lemonade

Mormon churches brinf Sesa into bright light
The white shirts and black suits and elders that
speak logically as Keith speeds down curves and bounce
a ride in Disney world near the temple that points skywards
and prim and proper walking straight living erect
off the slow winds of the slow farmland on
the outskirts of Hamilton

clear nightwhite stones

hamilton’s clear night makes all backache worth the trible
as one ventures out through the wooden terrace
amidst jacuzzi and prickly pebbles in the silence
of the two am gaul night
into a night with zillions
of stars

<img

Taupo yellow bird songs

1

look i can see the bottom of taupo
Max’s Emma’s blue salad eyes
amie’s baked cakeish creamish redlips
texting heaven away from greenfield screaming
bikes that Justin likes.sea gulls object to my
talking to redhaired Irish coffee. I’m
lucky says bright green neon lips on
yellow trees and sparrow and orange
beak myna. Giggles in a distant away
from a cow dung song three leaf
clover fencing the children away from
the snow on Rupeha. clouds will not
more tonight. The indigenous will smile as
hunch back parrot mountain
sun wakes summer backs. There goes
the pirate mayna again calling me to
Napier. Let fields shine float queenstown’s
yellow hills dry winds love life killing
mother earth a warm irish song. give
me a warm kiss that i will not forget KFC

2

look i can the eyes on the mountains as
a bald Maori lady does her research on
oil. i can smell beef talo as grassnoses
my breath & I break Moses’
commandments on women. M
said i was unstoppable $ S is lovely
lady tall % full of stars in her smile
my neck’s burning natalie redskirt
as i massage chookie’s back just
back from 74 splitt ave where poms
are pleasant not pompous. No
one has to die tonight is a mutineer’s
cold gold song. My black sweater is faithful
& Emma turns & cries on every auckland
hamilton south isle. Taupo street why
do we get so personal is morgan-ators
song. 14 racing licensed in a country
against boy races. irene i can smell your
kiss that you never gave me. i love you.

3

in scotland like pigeons shadow everyone
related to wallace as red flowers sing
with white flowers outside my blind window
an emotional computer shutters talks
to a million seconds of mom’s dying
voice. my brother loves me & Ed
has decided to win a lotto lover by
a blue pond where ducks quack
at quake point sweating not bleeding
poetry need not bleed. jack it potatoes
scream soft breeze whizzing mobikes
no dampness push no clouds in land
sway sing blue piercing summer transparent
waters. i love you amie. always have
how people find true love land
volcanic proportions let lovers kiss
cry like emma as i await stephanie
book tonight 7 neha looks at rajastan’s
bleeding dusty horizons. no horseman
sings savage and the princess
nothing rises from the dunes

4

two messages from jones double clicking
chicken habit. stuff’s with me subway’s oil
cajun sauce and oregano sonali I
fought by her lemonade kitchen
is love worth three years only. what
does one think of argentenian nurses
that earthshattering scream thud
coming fucking heaven’s graffitti
terrorism. wellington woos
warm smiles in cold isles
do not forget the ducks dark song
canadian pines hurt X smile
careful we love you – the whanau
you are x alone pics sweat bebo smiles
magnified flower’s magnanimosity
magnetic friendship no one needs
to die tonight. dust in takanini spears
a grey grave henderson song. no one
needs to die tonight

5

trapped at times

Make your own Zing!