Hari Kumar
 

Death of a Moon

A bite of a moon
            floats unwet,

the wind in its
           rippled sails spent,

it hooks on a breath
           of these waters,

to lie limp
           at my astonished feet.

The ink-bled sky
          has come undone

and scatter the heavens
         on heaving surf;

the crayon clouds lie
         dormant on a dying sea

that delivered a
        dead moon to me.


Some Things I Like

I like these laundered days,
crisp and bright,
and with the full promise
of an unopened letter
from a long lost friend.

I like letters
hand-written, not laser cut,
with cat curled words
stringing artless alphabets
like school children holding hands
about to cross a street;
words with moods and character
and a curious hunger.

I like words that come
with the wind
against my window;
with star buds blooming
in the black garden of the night,
washed in with the rain
puddling in the cracks
and crevices of my dried bones.

I like the rain
that rivers through 
my lifeline etched
on my palm,
washing away my sins
and my memories of my sins,
sinking the hundred
islands of my heart line.

I like memories
of fallen days that
breathed with a radio rhythm,
before the voodoo box
spread its million coloured contagion
over my innocent air.

I like these laundered days...


A Strange Friendship

He was the grand-dad of my next-door chum;
a man with a curious smell
of rusted bones in fusty flesh.
A web-skinned powdery man,
shriveled like a pickle,
moldy like a memory.
The first time I saw him unbent
was when they lay
him under white sheets
with face exposed
to the rafters bowing in reverence.
From his sleeping eyes
the King of Time
said "Hello, how do you do?"
and quaked my dreams for a month.

As my limbs grew and the
years slipped away like
the eaten miles,
he moved fast, this King;
played his moves,
toppled a distant pawn,
a close knight, sometimes.
I make a mental list of
my felled pieces, some fond
ones whose last squares
lie vacant still, as if
cordoned off after a horrible crime.

With the single dark king
to represent himself,
he conquers and
like the Grandmaster of Time
that he is, drifts away after
every move to another table,
to another checkmate.

With a strange wonderment
I ask this King,
who has by now become
familiar -- even friendly,
like a co-passenger in a long journey --
when my king
will fall to his icy hands.
He smiles cryptically
telling me nothing
and moves on with
a rook that I so loved.


Love Bytes

You
are the virus
in the boot sector of my brain.
A Trojan
who sneaked in
through my dreams
and unloaded your sweet poison,
enslaving my devices,
my ports,
my processors,
my RAM memories,
my mother-of-all boards,
my hard
disc.

You
are my blue screen
of death.
Yet
I live for you
sweetly infected.


A Simple Man

I am a simple man;
I wear my little mind
around my aching feet,
like battle-worn boots;
its tiny compass
leading me through
warrens of memories
and streets of numbered faces.

I am a simple man;
in the train
my mouth gapes, shamelessly,
at melon skins and plump nectarines
that peep from teasing satin and
low-slung denim;
and I am sated.
Easily.

I am a simple man,
but I must move on,
for if I stay,
roots sprout from my soles
and burrow deep into the earth.
My hands become branches
and tendrils shoot from my hair
inviting the bird of gloom
to build its nest
in the cave of my chest.

I am a simple man;
I will let my hair
long and wild;
my beard shall flow
carelessly in the wind --
in the rush of descent
my hair shall fly like flame,
and in that earth-kiss
I shall scatter like
a thousand beads of glass.

I am a simple man,
I shall make love to her 
the night before;
ceaseless love,
until, in her pupil less
whites I shall see
the birth of a universe.

I am a simple man,
for I have no beginning,
nor an end
-- no, I shall not die
for I was never born --
but only a lean middle
that stretches like a thin snake;
headless and tailless.

I am a simple man.

 

My name is Hari Kumar. I live in Singapore, with my wife and two children. Originally from India, I work as a civil servant in Singapore. I have written many poems, short stories and also two full-length novels. You can see a sample of my work including a few poems, essays, short stories and novel excerpts at my website http://www.harismind.com/

Contact Hari Kumar

 

 

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