He thinks his life a mess.
The market down,
the girlfriend left,
and now they've gone and turned the fountain off,
to save the pipes from winter.
But he doesn't know
somewhere a girl,
no more than six,
sits with a pile of rocks
and a hammer
and with her mother and brother
slowly turns stones to gravel.

desire

...and still,
this desire lies buried
in my breast:
a woman, a love of one's own.
but what love is this
that seeks to grab
and not to give?
what love is this that says:
"mine, mine"
"mine and no other's"?

Shanti

"God place, this."
And still the army came,
who'd have thought, to run up hills
and sweat. Everyone comes
here, eventually. Even guns love
peace. Still they question
and point barrels to sky.

I cower with the Germans,
genetic predisposition
against militaristic displays of
force, but they don't fire
and we laugh and don't know
why. After two days
even the army left.

"Peace place," this tree, this
Mandir, this Kuti, this smoke
and wind to blow the smoke away.
The tree hails "Salaam!" to all
a yellow Ohm, and from the Kuti
Baba is calling, "Come, sit."
Be free, if only for this moment.

Everybody comes here, eventually,
even if they don't know why.
Baba knows...and smiles
a finger to his brown nose and a
raspy laugh, a gleam in his brown eye.
The army runs time trials up the hill and
Baba sits.

The tourists come and go, the locals
come and go, the army, the film crew,
the dancers and me too,
we come and go. "God place,
this." Baba came once
and stayed, but after two days
even the army left.

break

If he could sew the stars into a hem
or fold the thin lining into an origami bird

he might be able to wear this suit,
standing up. This is a business

lunch, for business people. Inside,
the tough work of money assures

that everyone washes their hands.
Outside, the good dream of dreams still exists.

abandoned!

OK, I'm feeling a bit left behind here because no one else has contributed since Ginger's assignment.

...so here's a new assignment (if that's what it takes to garner contribution):
write a brief (5-8 line) poem about this picture:

...and a happy new year (though slightly used at this point)