9 Months In

Is this what you had in mind?

Packing your things

Leaving your home

Goodbyes to friends

Flying across seas

Panic-stricken with great

trepidation

To live here with fantastical

determination.

For me?

Seeing you at arrivals

Chatting with my family

Sitting in our car

Remembering the seatbelt

at my urging.

Driving down our first roads

together.

Exclaiming at the trees,

the empty scenes

an hour and a half

and we were back.

To another home. my home

now complete

taking you down the stairs

tucking you in the sheets.

Talking about this and that

things not yet sinking in

a wedding to prepare for

to get dressed for

discombobulating commotion

swarms of guests

my family and family friends

inspecting you through their lens

reaching a verdict

“He’s lucky to have you.”

here comes the bhaarat

third world drums blaring 

from outside

the elite museum

bringing a procession in,

colorful and vibrant

led by a dutiful dancer

to a sun-drenched altar

presided over by the ancient wisdom of

Hebrews and Hindus

where you descended

to an oh so bittersweet melody

step by step, girded by your

last connections to life in India.

A tear painted the museum floor

and you stepped over it

as you marched to me

to ceremonially recognize

what we already knew to be true

while I zoned in and out

and felt a breeze

through my dhoti

vows were spoken

and I leaned in

for a momentous kiss

you hesitated to reciprocate

before our lips met

and we took 7 steps

hand in hand.

Next came learning each other all over

and touching each other all over

walks in the woods

treachery and forgiveness

anger and depression

alcoholic balm

insomnia

uncertain normalcy

dinner dates with my friends

who became your friends

road trips to Savannah and Asheville

River street fireworks and

Lithuanian hikes

Jazz clubs.

Oh and my flights of fancy in between

Listening to me wide-eyed

proselytizing

While you held everything steady.

And we settled down to another home

small and quaint

You did it all

decorating, assembling furniture

trying out the cookware

washing the dishes

scrubbing the bathroom

playing host for guests

torn between people who rely on you

your friends, your family, my family, me

losing your mind and

putting it back together

campaigning for justice

applying for jobs

tentatively, like a fish out of sea

flopping around this alien landscape

holding onto me.

Geniuses

There are geniuses spread like litter
On the sides of the road
Tossed out
Disposable plastic bags
Full of air
Weighing nothing
Blowing here and there
Changing hands collecting dust and
Every little thing you can imagine
Picked up and put in a dumpster

There are geniuses waiting for you
To place your order
Staring at the lines on your forehead
Observing the manner of your speech
Telling the people in the back
Just what they need to serve up
To accommodate your needs
You asked for no cheese
You get two slices

There are geniuses driving you home
After drunken nights
All you have to do is ask
The right questions
You vomit out the window
Getting it all over the car
The conversation changes
To the extra vomit fee
Next time you drink less

There are geniuses on a drunken night
Drunker than you
Drowned in sorrows
Of broken hearts and broken families
Swimming in the truth
As you tread in murky water
Looking for a hand to pull you in
They are all around you
Look them in the eye these geniuses
They are waiting for you

Unwritten Stories

In your eyes I see stories
That I’ll never read
Of mystics, seers, and mysteries.
A burst of light through a black hole tint,
Brilliant, brilliant, but just a glint.

In your eyes I see stories
That I’ll never read
Of battles of devout heresies,
Yearning for more while doing your best,
Questing for meanings deeper than flesh.

In your eyes I see stories
That I’ll never read
Of heroes, enemies, and long journeys,
Dragons slain and promised lands,
Escaping from my outstretched hands.

In your eyes I see stories
That I’ll never read
Conversations going on, endlessly
Delicious dialogues laced with wit
And tirades and debates and mental fits.

In your eyes I see stories
That I’ll never read
Unpublished but signed with a forgery
A flash of passion trembling through my veins,
A fleeting excitation, a lasting pain.

Power at the fingertips

Do they know what came first- the Rhythm or the Blues? Well I learned to walk before I learned to talk, so I guess I learned to stomp before I learned to shout.
So then the first instrument was a drum and not the voice?

Was it more from breathing or beating?

you got the drum all wrong, though. The beat is innocent its like a circle. it's pure. the blues shoes up when you try to make things go places that probably don't even exist.

Fire was peaceful before people started using it to burn each others' roofs down, and melt people's faces off, and roast sinners on sticks. Before it was just to cook dinner. And fire was so polite it even made sure to lick its lips without making any noise really. And it would always go to bed.

Water sounds peaceful but only if you haven't ever seen a person drown.


But does rhythm know blues? Rhythm just wants to go, it doesn't have eyes to know here or know there. Rhythm doesn't ask, "Where?"
Ask blues about directions; Blues always worries about where it's going and where it's been.

Ask the mallet about the timpani. They're not friends, though. Not since Timpani got mallet thrown in jail for domestic abuse.

Well ask the big bass drum; they said you gotta hit it so it's, "felt but not heard."

did you have a soul before you had shoes?
did I have a voice before I had shoes?

like a mallet to a big bass drum
"felt but not heard"

who knows the bass drum better than the snare
that rat a tat tat




the power at my fingertips
drips
what goes up must come down
like the faucet didn't get a grip

supple wrists
the balance in just a subtle twist
makes me thirst


tere ke te
like the cracking of a whip - - - !

dha dhin dhin dha
dha dhin dhin dha
na thin thin na
dha dhin dhin dha

Voices

Young man with a cane

broken back

shattered

heel. 

Freeway bridge gives

whistling

promises

of

freedom

from

walking

down 

stairways

that

never 

end. 

Pavement

too forgiving

to return

the exhausted

to the land

from where the

angels

call. 

Young man with a cane

broken back

shattered

heel. 

Funny Valentines -no wife was a trophy

What can I say to show you my love on this holiday, that wouldn't be cliché? Well this isn't my best, but I hope it's enough to get you through to next Valentine's. 

My woman warrior

well-mannered or wicked,

depending on your audience,

whether respectable or dickheads.

The latter is attracted to you

it seems, on your crusade,

to give voice to the just and logical,

in your own way, unafraid. 

On twitter and facebook

and even wordpress,

your erudite speeches flow out

as if only caressed

Responsible and caring,

helping all your friends and family,

always listening to your boyfriend,

whether on guitar or just rambling.

Staying up all night to talk,

(or is it for the memes?)

Answering my calls early mornings,

to tell me about your dreams

These distances that divide us,

Are physical and real,

but these moments that unite us,

still lay naked how we feel.

When a camera is as close

to kissing you as I'll get,

I better get a haircut soon,

I better look my best.

But I know our love is beyond

mere appearances.

Greater than 8,000 miles

Including past and future tenses.

Whatever lies before us

is bound to exceed the past.

I hope you'll always love me.

I hope you'll be my last.

RA, RA ra ra r

You've been too good to me,

my woman warrior,

for all the world to see. 

Love, 

manas

What can I say to show you my love on this holiday, that wouldn't be cliché? Well this isn't my best, but I hope it's enough to get you through to next Valentine's. 

My woman warrior

well-mannered or wicked,

depending on your audience,

whether respectable or dickheads.

The latter is attracted to you

it seems, on your crusade,

to give voice to the just and logical,

in your own way, unafraid. 

On twitter and facebook

and even wordpress,

your erudite speeches flow out

as if only caressed

Responsible and caring,

helping all your friends and family,

always listening to your boyfriend,

whether on guitar or just rambling.

Staying up all night to talk,

(or is it for the memes?)

Answering my calls early mornings,

to tell me about your dreams

These distances that divide us,

Are physical and real,

but these moments that unite us,

still lay naked how we feel.

When a camera is as close

to kissing you as I'll get,

I better get a haircut soon,

I better look my best.

But I know our love is beyond

mere appearances.

Greater than 8,000 miles

Including past and future tenses.

Whatever lies before us

is bound to exceed the past.

I hope you'll always love me.

I hope you'll be my last.

Raa rwaaar Rwaaar RA

You've been too good to me,

my woman warrior,

for all the world to see. 

Love, 

manas