Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Haiku: Being Akhu

every one asks me
what are you doing Akhu?
"Not stealing your shoes"

Saturday, November 21, 2009

A Painting by Korou based on one of my Haiku

A mouthfull of words
i puke they call it silence
they- those artless lives

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Haiku for Our pOetry

Today evening me and Sumitra were photocopying our poetry booklet "Our Private Literature". After taking out the papers from the xerox machine tray, they were really hot. We reached home in 30mins and we took the papers out to bind and they were still hot (The fact is i never noticed such hotness before in other xeroxed papers.  May be my poeticness is exaggerating unconciously)

So a haiku came into my mind:

Right from the machine
They came out alive breathing
hot air, our poetry

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Haiku for the deprived Children

Children in the chains
flying kites in the black sky
standing on their books

singing the song waste
when their eyes sob in the smoke
with shadows of death

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Haiku from the night of 9th November

widows by windows,
squatting orphans, searching tear
in the dusty road

a mouthful of words
i puke, they call it silence
They - those artless lives

dip me in your tea
but free me inside the cup
Let me swim like fish

just the hopeless nights
sings melancholy of souls
which are called lovers

Friday, November 13, 2009

Free Haiku

It was before dawn
I heard the buffaloes’ bell;
Season to harvest

The warmth of the sand,
As we crossed Imphal River,
We could sense in nude.

Sometimes in autumn
We rode our bicycle down
To highway for rose

Bamboos are blooming
Birds are hovering around
Can it bring menace?

In one cold winter
We, equipped with catapults
Scared the dogs in streets

We danced in moonlight
Forgetting the hardship days
With spring guarding us

After its daydream
The frog jumps out of the well
And it sees a hell

The lovers elope
Astrologers suggest spring
But she is with child

One whole April night
My starvation wrote haiku
While they were eating

In the land of death
a birthday cake in coffin
arrived for dead poets