"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Monday, December 6, 2010


There’s noise in naked night
That Shakespeare never heard;
Rumbling rubber on roads,
Whirling wheels on straight steels,
Shrieks from the late late show,
Buzzes, bells and muzhak,
Din from domestic discs,
Air conditioned exhaust.

Those among us who can soundly sleep
Never hear these constant crass squalls,
Ever drifting much more inwards,
Content in dozing detachment.
Others endure all the static,
Seeking to unravel meaning,
Before sliding to slack slumber
And dreams that end halfway to hope.

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