But I do not,
Who’s who,
Which is whose?
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He is a poet of Bombay
But always with BombayO his mind,The house and his familyOn its mapAs his nostalgia for,The album of remembrance,The family the peripheryOf his writingWith location, translocation,Dislocation, displacementAnd diaspora as his storiesTo connect and re-connectThe colonies and their re-tellingOf narratives and anecdotes,Butassimilation and adjustmentThe main aspect of our living,Living in harmony.
Kali
How to bust it?KaliThe Dark GoddessWith the tongue outOf the mouth.In Anger DivineWith traditional weaponsInto Her four handsWearing a garland of heads.
When I remember you, tears come to my eyes
Failing to sing the songOf love,Full of betrayal, misunderstanding and infidelity.Again wipe I out the tearsAnd smearing with sobs and sighs and their remembrancesKeep I singing the song of life and love,How was I,How have I become?Even if return I back to, where to returnAs they are notWho used to be once,The same house now…
The cheetah
With the trickled tears dropsFrom the eye-sockets,Where, where the cheetah,The Indian cheetahWith the spotsGlistening overThe body?
What people,
“They are the, they are the mad people.”What, what, friend? ,Enquire he ofIn curiosity.“They are the, they are the mad-mad people,They themselves mad will make you mad,I mean the mad-mad fellows.”They are the mad people,What,The mad people, mad-mad people,Maddening it all!O, I see!“Yes, friend, they are the mad-mad poetic people,Themselves madWill make others mad,The mad-mad…
Keshav has something of an artist
And was tooAnd so is his poetry,With the echoes of modern art.A formerly editor of Indian Literature from Sahitya AkademiAnd the literary editor of Thought,He has authored quite a fewTo register his presence, to make it feelInto the domain of modern Indian English poetry.The Lake Surface and Other Poems, Rippled Shadow,Poems C, Negatives, Shapes in…