Notes from an Airplane

My soul is a vagrant
It wanders around in time
Like pollen and like leaves
Caught in the wake of life

I find meaning in this chaos

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In the little moments in time that I get,

I open my windows to a world in which I know you live.

I hope I see you on the other side

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A butterfly sat on the wings of an airplane
As it taxied into an airport
One carried me in
The other, my dreams.

Birds of a feather
Unknown to each other

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Airplane windows are modern day apartments.
The one who is inside wants to be outside
And the ones who are outside
They don't like being there

Comments

Spiral

Come Let us slice into each other With fine surgical precision You slash me here I slash you there And then When the storm is done I will patch you up And you tuck me up You bring the bucket I the mop the blood And together we will cleanse Our ancient hurts Our guilts And our fears Until we start again And over a cup of coffee You tell me My dear Just how much you love me And I shall tell you Just how much I love you.

Our Kind of Music

Together We might never dissolve fully Into each other But we will flow my love Like rivulets through paths untrodden And we shall make music Like pebbles rolling And water flowing And birds calling There are all kinds of music And such shall be ours.

Clowns in a Circus

The circus came to town I could see the posters of acrobats and hippos and giant wheels On shaky ancient auto- rikshaws Driven by incorrigibly happy Poor people. For some years now, I have felt like the joker Looking at a gallery full of fools Wanting to believe That what they see And live Is not sheer drudgery But liquid entertainment. I think Joaquin Phoenix fucked my world view Forever. And before that, there was the Matrix Or even, Joseph Heller Or maybe it was Gabriel Garcia Marquez Or even The Bhagwan who declared In his infinite wisdom That the infinity of our souls And the divinity of our beings Are sullen By the circus Of life.

Works of RK

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