The Milky Way is white and frigid with the fever of oblivion; A billion suns will be battered by the cleaver of oblivion. Remember not the love songs lost nor the updraughts of passion; Drowned in a moat of disdain,…
The Orb of Hereafter
About a week shy of the onset of the New Year, I presumptuously augmented the copyright notice at my blog to 2017. Don’t mistake me, I have long stopped caring about the trolls looking forward to plagiarizing my mumbling —anyone…
Malice of Zinfandel
Silver grey on temple peaks is the fern of the New Year. The sun has grown wrinkles at the turn of the New Year. Candlelit stilettos turned sherry red in a nightclub, Istanbul is freshly dug cavern of the New…
Goodbye, Cynthia Jobin
I cannot say Cynthia Jobin was lonely when I met her, surrounded as she was by a swarm of friends, eagerly awaiting the next instalment of priceless poetry on her blog, 'Littleoldladywho.net'. I also cannot say I met Cynthia Jobin…
A Few Black Sheep and a Black Hole
If I was never really proud to be a banker, these are certainly not the times to have a change of heart when the entire species is steeped in disgrace around these tracts of the planet. In the apocalyptic times…
Bombastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
All right, that is a shameless rip off from the latest opus of J. K. Rowling, also churned into a movie by Warner Bros. But isn’t this the joy of being a nobody on the Internet, that you can pilfer…
Surgical Slights, etc.
I’ve been trying to wiggle a lot this past month. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, till my face is blue in the corner one-seater as apoplectic debaters fume and combust the television over the carnage of nineteen soldiers in Uri by Pak…
Haruki Murakami’s Well
Recently, an old friend of mine who also is under the bondage of a commercial bank, confessed to me he has been contemplating digging a well in the backyard of his house. The gushing fool that I am, I broke…
The Same Night
“The same night whitening the same trees. We, of that time, are no longer the same.” ~Pablo Neruda I was young when I first read those lines by Pablo Neruda, from a poem that I still hold as one of…
A Byte of Moonshine
Sharpen now a crescent for the rite of moonshine, Bullets will not halt the flight of moonshine. Clouds germinate on the zephyrs from wet hills, The heart leaps windward with the kite of moonshine. I count my blessings over…
A Dewdrop Ghazal
Get me worms of silk for the runes and a dewdrop, Seven folds of veil for a cocoon and a dewdrop. The mirror is in youth, and the jasmine in bloom, Smoky is the kohl like the moon in a…
The Garlic Ballads by Mo Yan
“Those who can really represent China are digging dirt and paving roads with their bare hands." ~Mo Yan Sidestepping the polemic surrounding the Nobel citation of Mo Yan, and the seeming incompatibility of the Chinese tongue with English hoes and…
One Grain Amongst the Storm 