NO DREAMS FOR AN INSOMNIAC

Because you have no comfort in dreams
Because you see no reason
Because you realise...

The sooner the better.

!

Love knows no reason
And Reason knows not love

Early morning, rumpled bed
Taking stock of life
The dawn of an age of reason...

POTOMOI AND ALL HIS FRIENDS (aka WHY I LOVE GINGER ALE aka THE NONSENSE SING ALONG SONG)

Potomoi! Whoa! Whoa!
Ink and books and boa
But it’s not easy when you turn me on

Lilly in the valley, goes she
Down the murram road
Pitcher full of ale

Tincan whines Tincan’s woes
Tincan, yes can, goes
Tin can full of ginger ale, he knows

We-we cheeky, We-we drunk
We-we topples on my trunk
Ouch!

Imzy distant, Imzy far
Imzy on a topless car
Imzy on a parcel box with ribbons on the floor

Figgy whimpers, Tony sings
What the heck! O what it brings?
Ridge and Ridgey, there they come…they go

Puffy Ronnie ginger ale
Grapes are sour, grapes are pale
Downpour on the windshield, fresh yet stale

Cosy blanket, treasure trail
Now we triumph, now we fail
O! Will I not won’t I not can I not, Now!

Crazy fat-boy suffers so
Southern sepoy wants to go
It was not to be: she sees the snow

Sunshine, ebony, sugar sweet
What a pain, what a treat
What a time, O, it used to be

Cans and cans and cans of ale
Same old story, same old tale
Enfin.

ADVICE TO A YOUNG LOVER

Darling, if you love me
Never tell me so
Words of love are tedious
They lost their meaning a while ago
As I woke from my noontime siesta

No better than caterwauls
Or screeching chalks on blackboards,
Declarations of love are annoying

Grapes are not sour;
Post-glut, I am hyperglycaemic

MONOLOGUE

*PROLOGUE*
I thought I had seen it all,
Heard it all
But you prove me wrong yet again

I agree I owe you one, la vie

*I*
Mercury-vapour lamps with halos; cupric ripples in jet black puddles; lonesome croaks in dark thickets; purple sky and violet billows…
It is drizzling in the provincial roads and by-lanes

Is it the same now, in a distant city of students and steaks? Or in that bumbling metropolis, which stifles me, where dwell the lovers and the fools?

I entertain myself with nouvelle dresses and dishes
And paperbacks to devour
And iced drinks to gulp
Ashtrays urgently waiting for refills
Tangling unsuspecting victims
All unexpected trysts with bliss

*II*
Let us go then you and I, where velocity dwells upon the sky
Like a Windows’ Starfield screensaver
And I shall confess how I love you no more
How I love no one
How I can not, any more
And may you witness the spectacle of
Boiling blood bursting like bubble gums
Erupting from my ENT cavities
Grass green bile
Oozing from sundry lacerations which
Decorate my drain-board abs

*III*
She waited, in vain
It was stupid of her
I waited in vain, equally so
But now I wait no more

Confused, you say…
Been there, done that.
Survival is 42
I danced in the rain all evening
And I never felt like crying.

*EPILOGUE*
Thank you for all the fish
You owe me one, la vie

Tagore: PRAKRITI 118

The night reverberates with the monsoon’s drone
As I string the aching memories all alone
The door to my room, dark, is kept ajar,
I wonder in what oversight
I suppose my companion is coming:
my friend for this plaintive night
With his coming he renders music to the rain
And the Kadamba grove shivers in pleasure
Even if he never arrives, I shall hope in vain
Placing our mat on the dust for good measure

MEANING

I ask you: ‘Is love still there?’
‘Don’t know…think so’, you say
Meaning: there is none.

Then why do you call me so,
Talking of life and us?
Meaning, there is none.