Best Lazes Poems
Deceptive, drowsy,
the gray cat, Tempus, in doldrums
lazes, purring, stretching.
I have watched him:
cunning eyes half-closed,
he stalks bright birds near day lilies.
Wings wet from flights
through sprinklers' sweeps,
birds swoop, glide, flutter.
They light on dry grass,
strut and shake themselves,
are lulled. Then, Tempus
pounces on one bird.
The rest are routed…
And Tempus fugit.
In
the early
morning sun-
a painted lady
lazes 'ere her day has begun
You puckered up your lips
You went and cut your Beatle fringe
You squeezed in your bikini
And you trimmed your ginger minge
Your shadow on the beach eclipsed
The bathers on the sa-a-a-a-nd
Oh Tru-u-u-udy! You're out to bag a man
.
She lazes on the beach
Down by the Purple Dolphin Bar
She dribbles down her chin
While ogling hotties from afar
And even though you're thrice the size
You started out to be-e-e-e-
Tru-u-u-udy! You'd have two of him for tea
.
She spies a clueless victim
As his glasses hit the ground
She gaffs him with a tender look
And the sturdy rope she'd found
Though it's not gold nor money
That will cure this Turtle Dove
Oh Tru-u-u-udy! It's just buckets full o' love
.
She straddled him, his legs so thin
Then she began to pout
For it took half the fire brigade
To pull her victim out
Then he began to run as soon
As his feet touched the ground
Now Tru-u-u-udy, he's nowhere to be found
Eye control darkness
Standing in creek consciousness
Eye pain portal
Me maladjusted myalgia
Hyposyncratic virilence
It tick, me tick
Bit me
Me sick
Loads shells, no click
Arabic apotheosis shrouded in defamation
Famine lives thru sublimation
Disgorge over the stern of the barge
Decrepid canal lazes with crude afterbirth
Charged with aborted sludge
Stripping the last shreds of life from the shopping carts that pose on the bottom
Fist-nose, lymphnodes spliced with tar
Near here the fear steers clear from afar
The fetid bargeman stalks the scape defiled
Drapes his rape on the nape of the last paedophile.
How she rests on grasses from a jungle
Tulips and pines of forest 'round her shed;
A hand exploring time's precious compass
With graced arms afloat, never way ahead.
Her bay cradles shelled rock that lazes by
This pure moment holding an endless sea…
Above, the jiggled sound of breakers glide
When thrushes arrange music endlessly.
Oh, to pause along slant of herb and moss
Where marquee of colors glints like a flame...
The purple sash of hay twirling softly
With crests unhurried on waters, quite tame.
A power of here, now, lays on calm navel;
Gently assured, relishing dew and heat
Unique is her time, never repeated…
Eos , dawn goddess, holds that rare flash, sweet!
Cliché Contest, Silent One
3/31/2016
" There Is No Time Like The Present"
Right angled square, to a perfect straight black,
With a classical blue tinted shirt,
And stockings that reach all the way up,
Beneath the perfectly pressed skirt,
Or flannelette top, all chequered in plaid,
Lazes over the T shirt in white,
With the wide brimming hat, worn over dyed hair,
And worn well into the night,
Else you might see her wear a long flowing dress,
Stilettos gripping her feet,
Holding a small leather bag, with her little white glove,
Walking along the main street.
Fashions of women, from business to hip,
To a nineteen fifty retro sublime,
Makes all women beautiful, in my small male heart,
Bewitching me every time.
Delhi seems closer than it was last time.
After a tea with GST,
on to a backstreet of Varanasi,
Untouched by authority;
ignored more by memory
than darkened by amnesia.
A huge black cow lazes about,
like a Moghul monarch blocking
half the street. It won’t let the OLA pass.
At the hoary-holy sanctum,
my poor drops of milk from a paper cup
pour on to the Lord’s cosmic crown.
Ganga, here, is a very old Benares
fraying at the edges, laid out in the open.
So still, like samana, the balancing prana.
From a boat I watch how human flesh fuels
the firewood at the Harichandra ghat..
Benares eyes Harichandra rather darkly.
Then, the Ganga Arati at 6.30
Their off-white attire. The huge lamps they hold
and draw patterns with, in the air.
Lines with the solemn predictability
of a Ravi varma . Ganga is a new Miss world by now.
At the Manikarnika ghat too, bodies dutifully burn.
In the dark, Death sparkles like huge fireflies;
pampered by pundits and Sanskrit
I lie in an OYO at Godowlia so ill.
So close to mukti. A godsend of a doctor
At Matha Anandamayi hospital queers my pitch..
One of a tribe long extinct in Serpent town,
his fees: ‘whatever you please’.
I remember hospitals back in Kerala.
Thank god, I was not in one there.
Else, I would have hit hell by now, looking for money.
Sure, the ‘path to hell is paved with good intentions’
( of corporates and false swamis)
Notes:
Varanasi: It is also called Benares and Kashi, One of the holiest of cities in India, known for its temple, by the Ganges, dedicated to Lord Shiva.
OLA : The taxi cab app, OYO : An app to find hotel rooms.
Serpent town : Trivandrum, Samana : One of the five pranas(breaths), the equalizing prana.
Living in a pride he
Lazes around while the
Lionesses hunt for
Large prey such as giraffes
Looks like their prey is down!
Leo gets the most meat
Loud is his mighty roar
4/14/17
Music floods the speakers,
soft lighting dims the room.
A bourbon bottle lazes the table,
my pyjama's become my costume.
I pretend that I'm happy,
I force a winning smile.
Out comes the weed,
And I zone out for a while.
Some days are different,
they're not all the same.
Life is falling to pieces
And I've run out of people to blame.
a
painted
lady
lazes
in the
early
sun
'ere
her
day
has
begun
i
there is an alien in our house
it is like a lazy louse
it lazes around all day
i dont know y
but it doesnt find a better place to stay
it turns up unexpectedly
it does not eat healthily
i want to shoo it out
because it has become stout
it likes to eat pizzas
and chips
it can finish a whole
pack of icecream
and crisps
mummy i m telling u
its not a lizard or a grouse
there's an alien in the house
unfocused gaze
soul lazes not
heart grazed by bliss
24-January-2022
Somber light slants through the window.
The sun lazes behind blankets of clouds.
Grey skies are all I see.
A tranquil yet almost uneasy atmosphere
rests over everyone.
No one dares to shrug it off.
Today is a day for soft musing and true thoughts,
it's sobering and uplifting at the same time.
There will be no more doubts by the end of this day.
A chilly wind breezes over cool skin as
colors are dimmed and speeds are slowed.
Nothing resists the sleepy pull of these grey days.