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BOREDOM IS SEXY
I want to be with you, completely bored. Bored is the only way to be with someone you love. Activities exist for those not in love. When you are not in love, you plan activities like mad, You think of...
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INDIAN POETS IN ENGLISH —APRIL
This is the third installment of Scarriet’s crash course in contemporary Indian poetry in English—seven poets per month (Feb ’18 thru Jan ’19)—suggested by Linda Ashok in The Poetry Mail. Sukrita P....
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GENDER
The man is the poet, the woman is the poem. Men and women do not quite meet, like the earth and the moon. The man is the telescope and the woman is the moon, An orb circling, half-dark, and alone. The...
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GIVE ME WHAT I WANT
Give me what I want. There is enough For me. I want to simply love. But all of us are puritans. We deny The one who wants to simply love. Is there such a pitiful supply Of lovers? Who need love? Why?...
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WHO SEDUCED YOU?
Who seduced you? The lean wolf, who warned you the fat wolf Would say to you, “Defy instruction, for pleasure is enough?” Who seduced you? The philosopher? Did you call his bluff: “Scholars say, read...
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SINCE LIFE
Since life is theater, and love is defined as actors expressing love, I move in cautious secrecy for the sake of my love. Since my humble love will be mocked as too serious, And become food for the...
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A MODERN POEM
Your cute little dog gets more attention than you. Cute is mathematical. But how it affects me, I haven’t a clue. Our response to cute is hardwired. The warmth of a body might be desired, But the...
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NOTES ON A POEM WHICH ARE BELIEVED TO BE A PAINTING
My mind is sick, and these poems and rhymes Are symptoms—of journeys through Keatsian climes And hills, haunted, worthy of Poe— That no one needs to read or know. I should be on the phone with friends...
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HYPNOSIS
Hypnosis is far more common than we suppose. Who understands what is good for them? All are led by the nose. The secrect techniques the seductive masters keep Are tricks of no purpose. Everyone’s...
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I ALWAYS WANT TO BE WITH SOMEBODY ELSE
I always want to be with somebody else. Imagine then, my shock and surprise, When somebody else was you, Your face, your smile, your eyes, Your body, your breathing, just you, Which was unusual, and...
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LOVE IS WHEN
Love is when want eclipses need. Look my cats position themselves around the dish to feed— Much fighting occurs. We need to be fed. We don’t need to take the prettiest person to bed. All the cats will...
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IT’S STRANGE TO THINK THAT WE ARE TAUGHT
It’s strange to think that we are taught Thinking is hidden from view, Unlike visible feelings. But even your own feelings are hidden from you— And nothing can hide the mathematical steps of thought....
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THE GREAT GIFT
You, who tortured me, grow fat and old, Imperceptibly; a lovely gift, if the truth be told. Oh I am bitter, it is true— But I was so in love with you. Why shouldn’t love be satisfied, Which still...
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IS IT THIS WAY NOW?
Is the understandable more true? Is the desire to boil things down and understand, a need Which only serves itself? What is the highest creed? What, exactly, do I want from you? Is my love real? Or a...
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IS IT THE BUYING AND SELLING THEN?
Is it the buying and selling, then, Which creates the gulf between left wing women and right wing men? The government radio station and the king Are mighty, and bring a misty calm to everything....
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SINCE SPRING IS BACK
Since spring is back, Maybe you will think of me, In your burning lack, Maybe you will think how ambitious love Once made you and I The slippery duck and the misty dove, When love happened and we...
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THE LOCAL IS POETICAL
The local is poetical, Not the distant, or the far flung. I don’t remember—and who cares—what I did when I was young. That’s for the mawkish and the fictional to pretend— The built up beginning for...
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IT IS NOT THE BAD
It is not the bad, but the bad which seems to be good, Which gets you in the end, and chiefly by its seeming; For soon good which is really bad ruins your judgement completely, And the bad which turns...
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INDIAN POETS IN ENGLISH —MAY
Amit Majmudar has translated the Bhagavad Gita, which was just published, as Godsong—the book was reviewed last month in the NY Times by Parul Sehgal, who admires the poetry of the translation, but in...
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WHERE ALL IS UNCERTAIN
Where all is uncertain, and nobody knows, O shimmering lake, where the lake dweller goes. Around the lake are flowers and weeds Giving the lake dweller the privacy she needs. The certainty of what we...
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