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If man is dust

those who go through the plain

are men



- Apparition, Octavio Paz, trans. Eliot Weinberger



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Monday, 20 November 2006

Jazz Visions


Jazz Visions

1

And when the hurricane
crept in…

only the wolf stood
on the weak veins
of the landscape…

singing beneath the blood moon

a naked horseman
guides the hurricane

…and only the wolf stood

2

the river is a red bird

the wing inclines
in mid air

someone drags
the ends of her dress
on the waters…

the wrestler spreads his wings

and screams

3

and so she sips the tea
with lemon and dreams…

of the sand leaping
from the child dancer's feet

and who sleeps upon the lotus?

as the magician washes his face
at the lake of purple windows

who sleeps upon the lotus?

and she sips on dreams

4

the train is leaving

…leaving…
but the train has no ends…

you look inside
at the faces,
all look alike

forever the train is leaving;
and forever the ghost follows…

a man leaps out
and turns into
a blue bone

who picks up the bone?


5

The eagle carries
pearls in its wings

dreams revolve in the pearls

the eagle swoops
upon the night…

she comes out
of her hut,
waits,
…spreads her arms…

and engulfs the wind

6

and softly she loses her way

she becomes
like that blue transculent glass window

or the blue voice
lost in the saxophone…

I lift her like a song
I lift her like the noon river

The wind smells auburn

softly someone lifts the saxophone

and her sweat loses way




7

the child's drawing of the night-
trees and huts

from where does she arrive-
the long robed lady,
holding a long broomstick

sweeping, sweeping

the million small balls
of light

sweeping them at your face

your face lost among
the balls of light

years later,
still only the night
and the only the lone sweeper…

8

the ocean
spins
and enters her chest

spins out of her spine
towards the lost city

she breathes a few times,
half afraid
of the shadows...
and then leaps from the mountain
towards the sun


9

the boat moves
like a lost ancient dream

the boatman does not row,
and the water is still

…moves to the dark rock
among the waters

the boatman singing to the clouds

some said it happened at dawn
some said twilight

he said it was the smell of angels

10

You smoke out
flower circles
in the tavern

Children
sprinkle seeds and worms
on the wet air

children in the kaliedoscope

11

a droplet falls
on the earth

with every stroke of the piano
...blood from his forehead


a few hands
grow out of the earth

they signal the eagle inside the piano

with
blood, light and shadow

12

the flame leaves the candle
and falls on the stairs

chessboard stairs

the flame climbs
and reaches the top

the old woman in white
blows upon the flame;
it turns into a fire leaf

and appears in the land
of fire trees

a wind blows through the trees
the wind is now the colour
of the flame

the people of the land gather

and let the wind
needle the body...

13

and as you slide your tongue
upon the harmonica…

your breath conjures up
the girl in violet

she of the violet smells

dancing about the four walls…
violet prints of her feet

…no one sees her
but you

and you can touch her soft navel

…of tigers and fireflies

4 comments:

Pranaadhika Sinha Devburman - Bat said...

hey inam... lovely blog you have here.. jazz visions is trippy !

Astraeus said...

jazz visions sure is good

Shyama said...

I am so glad I discovered your blog! Such felicity of words

Anoo. said...

These are my favourites. All of them. There are lines in them you can't ever forget...