The Hollow Land

"The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms"
The Hollow lands
filled with such stark immensity.
flooding with light.
Plains 17800 feet in the sky
Sikkim 2008

I listen to the Amelie Soundtrack on Loop.
I chew very loudly.
A red umbrella banishes storms.
Yes I question, I neglect.
I prefer purple grapes over green ones.
and jamoons over that.
I stalk silver. compare rivers to bone.
Don't wear socks unless they are rainbow coloured.
know the taste of rain on my tongue.

Shanti Shloka

15 days spent in Sikkim.
I went there in search of peace.
and I found it. In every drop of rain.
Mist that erased mountains.
In Silence.
In sunlight.

To yellow walls.
to our bodies that we underestimate.
To remembering divinity.
and the absolute.
and love found not in fingertips
but every thing that shimmers.

much much more later.
Sacred lakes, Monks, Peace, Art, Hollowlands.

Hard Rain Gonna Fall

You face the city. burning lights.
silver in the night like coins never collected.

your eyes try to cripple me.
I fall fall fall.

you were young.old.broken.cold.
you were lost. found. sold.

I only see you in black and white.
Everything I touch turns to stone.

Bombay 2008
On the road to Haji Ali
' Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number.'

Jigsaw Falling into Place

Here love exists.
In our house with yellow walls and white curtains that flutter like ghosts.
we collect sea shells, Hope, brooms, gods and those lost and wandering.

Here love exists.
We create. Images wrap themselves around our fingertips.

Little parts of our soul washes out in ink on paper.

Here single Brushstrokes can erase storms.
Technicolour dreams hang on every ceiling like clothes from a line or perhaps stars in the sky.
Purplesky.watermelonred. the soft gold that lines clouds.
the green that exists only in the heart of a grape.