Poems Omega Minus
I
For once he banished all birds
from the air
not just Mynas tick-picking
on twitching backs
but all birds, unnamed
and high bred
with each wave of his contrived hand
extending the pelting rice on the shorn land.
Some came to sort the heedless grain
in their hunger of disdain
Some fluttered from hump to hump
from his total need
to his clambering might.
Each time they came and went
he let them alone
choked in their distensions.
He could not see their pain.
Perhaps their general nature - too
grave to offend
saw in his absence
in his indifference to want
the chance of their malice
their frolicksome end.
II
Too late in the arboured rites
he careered with his adolescent fancies:
the ghee-man
with his pails of souring milk
working within his churning bones
old rishis' immolating ambitions:
the curious incantatory neologisms
the crowd-infused lusty prayer
the unsliced un-schismatic advaita piety
What should he take: the game or the adulation
both silently exploding buds
in the crammed clutch of mania.
Somewhere in the lambent miasma
Old age and the deep cloistered pining of chaste women
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poem by T. Wignesan
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