back one: india shorts

Dear Readers,

Back from a deep sea dive, month long alive in India.  I’ve been dancing with jet lag, thinking and thinking about how to share with you, the reader, the feelings, adventures, life lessons.  It ain’t no cliche to go to India to revive your soul.  That shit is for real.  But you gotta work, stretch, extend your hand to bhagwan, the spirits, and they will reach back, full flowers through briar patch of tourism is a real road to travel, god’s footsteps, the whole nine.  I’m telling you.

In the next post, Back #Two, I will have tips for NRI’s traveling back to the motherland.  Smile, we bout to get candid camera in this piece.

How better to evoke the capitalist crashing ancient world lasting experience of immersing in India than through poems, shorts, to be exact

This is Back #One, take a sip of this water, burnish silver your golden sun.

15 lakhan puri

the green birds and their sounds

i will miss them

the red land and its sun

i will miss them  

the tears and their smiles  

i will kiss them   i will kiss them 

when i see them again 

the beloveds who would stand up for me  i will greet them  



god on the corner with hoes


god on the corner

shiv ling an exquisite sculpture

dick rising, sun gliding up

pussy spread, moon crying, fuck  

shiv ling an exquisite rupture

double toned

poured over

milky shoulder


god on the corner with hoes 

indian love

it’s a stern love we have

a love that pulls hair

bares teeth

raises a backhand to

thapar, japhar, chapair

a love that sways like cars between the lines

dances into oncoming traffic

no look

love hands

a story of future present past

assured is india

love’s driver  

melt crash 


poem while sari shopping with moms and 3 mausi’s: #1

four sisters

brim over

bring over

another pattern in this color

another color in this pattern

sari shop

train stop

singing and singing their songs 


poem while sari shopping:#2 

your hair

your dupata

you’re sitting all wrong

u.s. born daughter

apparently gone too long 


poem while sari shopping:#3 

blue is the hottest flame

jaisalmer with only love to blame

at the gateway strain for privacy

gaze I drop it

finger my locket

a capsule of your hair

his voice

our lair 


poem while sari shopping:#4 

india is piss stained

rose printed napkins

stuffed in my pocket 

india is piss stained

rose printed napkins

no dust bins in the bathroom 

so india is piss stained

rose printed napkins

stuffed inside

hush the rush legs spread wide the ride

out of pocket


you are receding 

out of the corner of my eyes 


i wont look at you

india i wont look at you


just look at you

i am already burning inside

i see you

don’t doubt it

tonight together we glide 


jaisalmer dunes 

sand river

stream weaves

around me

she creams

a ream

of paper   


Alright dear readers, this was the latest from your fav journalist with a twist, NaxaL, political poet and I know it, and I want to hear your good writing too, holler at me, and stay tuned for Back #2, with hilarious tips for NRI’s traveling back to the motherland.




One thought on “back one: india shorts

  1. locket, lairs, hair, and there… welcome back

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