Wednesday, 19 February 2014


Do this now, with a great amount of care,
split the pod of this body and expose
the nuclei that have passed for my mind -
(I’m not so sure of the immortal soul)
flick a nail down the line of join and tear
the kernels like plump peas into a bowl
prop the shell against a surface, because
all said and done, no pea is quite designed

to be without its shell, dangling from - what?
so keep the cover handy, though aside;
press the plumpness between index and thumb
or spin it in a tunnel in deep earth
centrifuge it, then see what you can spot.
I’ll bet the shell, for whatever little it’s worth
that nothing poetry can be teased and spied
no fancy love slime dredged up from the crumbs.

Amazement does not leave a single trace
and blasé curdles nothing in the blood
it throbs or plummets once, and it is done;
split the shell and spin the nuclei
search fibres in the guts and in the face
crack straight backbones and slipped discs of the eye
and still there will be nothing, not a shred
however fast the particles are spun.

The leaves that I have turned, the paper thin
beams that vaulted over cobbles of dawns
the jewelled dew scattered on dead grasses
monsoon rain-misted roofs and mountaintops -
nothing remains under or on the skin;
a purple pulse might quicken, but then stops,
resumes its sedate beat, wonder passes,
so does boredom, both froth of pheromones.

Take the pods, unravel every helix;
and split the hair as fine as it can stand;
gaze into the bamboo hollow navel;
dissect each limb till you are satisfied;
and still you will find nothing in the mix -
how smiles and tears were made to coincide.
Deep into the subatomic level
rung by rung, climb down into the grand

atrium of the heart and the great dome
where bare-arsed, bare-fanged, famished nightmares pace
along the walls, chafe in their prison cells
and fringed dreams swish like stiff, curled mongrel tales.
Go over it all with a hound’s tooth comb
the froth and spit and fluids, each detail
and then put back the halves, close the pod, and tell
me what kind of love rhyme is in my face?


  1. Oh! I am in love with your poetry - so simple and yet as intense it could be. All the kind of love rhymes, smile. Excellent - consider me a fan!

    1. Thankyou thankyou! :) pleased you like it. Seriously, simple is my moolmantra.

  2. I'm stunned. Simple is not a word I would use to describe it...magnificent, more like, especially the first half of the last stanza.:)

    1. :) Thank you, Denise...another one from the same words..

  3. Wow with anatomy and all. :)
    Great read.

    1. knowledge of anatomy v useful in all non-veg recipes :) thanks for being here

  4. You have a unique approach to poetry.

    Wrote By Rote
    An A to Z Co-host blog

  5. Well penned---Magnify the minute to obtain the Absolute....Yes one has to be resolute--