I

I am
my own Jesus,
crucified(twisted corpse)...

I'm my Judas,
betraying,
by my own
hands,dying...

I'm my Lazarus,
failed,
unrisen...

I'm the Lucifer
of my own fall...
Father,won't you call?

Salvation denied.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(29/4/2007)

TO YOU

My love
is black...
it is filthy,
holds me back...
My love is
a monster,
for all you know,
torn from being
caught,in the
undertow...
My love is
tortured,my love
is black...
But it is still
love,please
love me back...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(29/4/2007)

RUMINATING ON A SHOE

My shoe,
like the rest of me,
is in tatters...
and the sole
is worn and weathered...
I will have it
fixed today...
but God knows
there's no cobbler
for my soul...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(29/4/2007)

WASTING

I
am a waste...
waste of
flesh,
wasted blood...
waste of time,
wasting love...
if you want,
to know
the secrets of
the waste,
just look at me...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(28/4/2007)

ZERO

Sometimes
there's nothing...
then there's
nobody,
No places,not
even me...
Sometimes I don't
exist at all...
And everything's
as perfect as zero...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(28/4/2007)

A FEW WORDS TO MY FATHER

Why did you
give me life?
Just to
have me bleed?
Why do you
forsake me father,
In my time of need?
Fucking sadist!

Anirban Kapil Baishya(28/4/2007)

RESURRECT

I have
killed myself
many times over...

Now I'm
learning,
the art of
ressurection...

The poison is
its own cure.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(27/4/2007)

FISSURE

Why should I
break my
shell?
Through this
fissure can I
smell...
The stink of
their personal
hell...
This anal
opening,shows
war as well...
And a dark light,
illumines no
future to
tell...
Tell me why
should I escape
my hell?
Through this
fissure,
I see yours' burn
just as well...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(26/4/2007)

DETACHMENT

Two people
can never
be one...
Bodies
separate...
breathe,shit,
bleed...
kiss,fuck sometmes...
but still exist
in accompanied detachment...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(26/4/2007)

CLOUDBURST

A tear is
a raindrop
of the soul's
making...
A dark cloud
of distress,
that needed
breaking...
Its parched lips
for salvation
calling...
The drops rain
down,gently
falling...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(25/4/2007)

MONSTER

As a child
I was scared
of being lost...
now I am lost...
I was afraid
of not finding God,
now God is dead...
I was afraid of monsters
under my bed...
and now,
all elementaries compounded,
and all equations made complex...
I have become one...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(25/4/2007)

MORBID MONOLOGUE

Eaten alive,
Left half dead
by your love...
I still feel
like a stranger(to your eyes)...
Pilgrim in search
Of an elusive God...
Please kill me...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(25/4/2007)

FROM A JUNKIE TO HIS DOPE

Dear dope,
There is no me
without you...
I have inhaled
you too long...

Without you
my bones
turn to dust
and my tears
flake off like rust...

Withdrawal is torment,
and I'm demented
beyond repair...
The grave seems
a better bed
than the cold stone
of the inside of my head...

I love you,
I need you...
Please inject yourself
into my fucking veins!

Regards,
your junkie...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(14/4/2007)

BAD MATH

I wish
you could see,
how I sleep
wishing for you...

Wishing for the time,
I defied
elementary math
(my childhood and mortal enemy),
and in liplock
could I swear,
that one and one
add up to one...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(20/4/2007)

BITTER FLOWER

I am
a bitter flower;
my father
planted the seed
and my mother,
was the earth
that bore me...
tended and watered,
I try to
bloom for you
everyday,
but wilt
in the thorny trappings
of a steel garden.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(3/11/2005)

2

2 A.M...
Frost outside...
Inside,I,
In some
much needed company...

Moderately obssessed...
Wanting...
Wanting you,
And to recite
Some Morrison,
words,I had
made love to
naked and alone,
lying on the floor
a thousand times...
miserably failing now,
orgasm denied
in my mind...

2 A.M...
Your lips kissing...
kissing the virgin white smoke...
smoke I wished was me...
2 A.M,
I swear
I was jealous
of the cigarette...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(15/4/2007)

AGNOSTIC QUESTION

I have
two arms,
two eyes...
I love,
I hurt like you...
I breathe,
I eat,I fuck...
But I don't
have a religion...
Does that make me,
not a man?

Anirban Kapil Baishya(13/4/2007)

OEDIPUS REX

MOTHER!MOTHER!
I loved you,
I hated you...

Bleeding since the day
they cut the cord
that held us
together(maybe just once);
I live within
this ice of
infantile neurosis
that fuels me
to search
for you,
in someone else...

My cracked mirror
ever so distorted,
and I,distraught...
little thumb-sucker,
breast seeker,
search by day,
search by night...
I,Oedipus Rex,
am the curse
of my sex...
I worship you?

Anirban Kapil Baishya(3/11/2005)

BLOODLETTING

Poetry,
much like love
is the art
of bloodletting...
I write,
and you,
darling leech,
read,in a
private and coupled bleeding...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(10/4/2007)

DENIAL

There is
a strange wind blowing
tonight...
and I'm sitting here
on the ledge,
staring down at
what could be,
be so beautifully,
my death...
I am afraid
of dying tho'
and retract from abortion...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(9/4/2007)

SOUND OF MUSIC

The burning sensation
of the sound,
no matter how hard,how loud...
dripping through the walls
of the inner I,
and filling up the cracks
inflicted by the vagaries
of another bottomless day...
Is like the ritual chanting
of a psychopomp
that carries the soul
to the house of sleep
through the sound of music
in a darkened room.

Anirban Kapil Baishya (26/8/2003)

BLEED

There are times when
you wish that you were
stuck in a moment..
the moment of conception,
when ecstasy feeds at the depths and
smoulders like a furnace of warmth
that apparently seems to
burn forever...
but the moment of pleasure's a thorn,
when picked out..
it makes you bleed.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(31/6/2003)

THE ESSENCE OF MOTION

The essence of motion lies
in the spark of a moment
which like the subtle nuances
of the stream of time
converges and diverges...
intertwined to form the end
of the beginning of an end.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(18/7/2003)

SNAKEBITE LOVE

I died of a snakebite
last night;
'twas dark
when she slithered into my bed,
and I could feel
her wet underbelly
rubbing against my skin,
her lips sucking on my big toe...
then the rest of me;
Please,
I'd like to die again tonight!

Anirban Kapil Baishya(21/6/2005)

STIGMATA

Jesus and I had
a chat last night...
dead naked over a beer,
fingering sweet wounds,
masochists he and I,
martyrs of free will...
he tried to preach me tho',
and I nailed him,
right back into his bible!

Anirban Kapil Baishya(14/6/2005)

WASHING STAINS

Closing my eyes
sometimes still,
takes me down the vault
of dark childhood fears___
the stench of someone's
malignant voodoo,white and slimy,
that wrecked my body,
and plagues me still...
Honestly,everytime I burn myself,
I'm just trying,
to wash away the stains...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(7/4/2007)

A DEAD LETTER TO SYLVIA PLATH

I first saw you
in some cheap reprint,
of a fading yellow photograph
(please don't laugh)...I love you;

love you for
all the times
you cried or perhaps
slit your wrists...

for in you
for whom
"Dying
Is an art, like everything else", (+)
I see me...

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)" (*)

____
(+)From "Lady Lazarus"
(*)From "Mad Girl's Love Song"

Anirban Kapil Baishya(10/8/2005)

MIDNIGHT SUITE

(I) I WRITE OF LOVE
________________
Iv'e written about
dying,a thousand times...
But tonight___
tonight I write about love...
about sad lips finding each other,
in the darkness,
of hands that grasp___flesh to flesh...

I write of madness___
the dark fear of losing...
of flesh that will be,
cloistered in coffins,
and wither to bone.

I write about love,
the sweet harmony
that does not last
and fades away...
like the mist.

I write of the
ecstasy of the spirit,
for which the flesh is
but an excuse...
but an indispensible cage,
which alone,
can hold love.

I write of
the pink of the flesh,
under the brown of skin...
I write of temptation,
I write of sin...
I write of ecstasy___
I write of love,I write
of you...
(12.05 AM)

(II)WHISPER
__________
Can you
hear my silence?
In vain does it
try,whispering to you,
asking you not to leave...

...And tho',
tho' the tongue
knows not how to
caress speech___
the soul bleeds forth
in an empty gaze.

Can you not___
not hear the silence?
It is deafening,
It is screaming,
screaming out to you...
(12.21 AM)

(III)ON THE FEAR OF DYING
_______________________
Last night,
in a dream,
I attended my own funeral...
Dressed in black,
stiff and paralyzed,I lay...
They shut the lid
of the fucking coffin on my face,
and would not let me out...
(12.35 AM)

(IV)BLINDING AN EYE
__________________
In my bedroom
there was a mirror...
It watched me
everyday___
watched me as I slept
watched me as I dreamt...
watched me,
as the smoke loved my lungs,
and the alcohol poisoned my blood...
watched me as I bled,
or burnt with passion on my bed...
Then yesterday...
Yesterday I broke it.
(1.00 AM)

(V)ENDING DISCREDIT
__________________
This is,
the final piece of shit,
I will scribble tonight___
It was nice,
Nice knowing you___
if only for an hour or so...
and nice of you
to watch me bleed...
But the fever ends here.
(1.15 AM)
_____
Anirban Kapil Baishya(7/4/2007)

JIM MORRISON SPOKE MY MIND YEARS AGO

Dissecting my soul
I wish I
were born dumb,
so that silences
would
never be uncomfortable...
and therefore
taking a cue
from the hippie God
I end,
"Words dissemble,
words be quick,
Words resemble walking sticks".

Anirban Kapil Baishya(1/3/2005)

STATUE

It is not
a beautiful feeling,
going to sleep
knowing that the tenderness
you nurture inside
will have to be buried
in a garden of stone,
and turned into a statue.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(5/4/2007)

PAINTING A PICTURE

When
my brush
decides to
speak my mind,
it makes love
to the paper,
and
paints a picture...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(3/4/2007)

LEARNING TO SPEAK

Of all
the lessons
ever taught...
the hardest,
that st(r)uck
like a fishbone
in the throat,
was learning to speak.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(2/4/2007)

BLACK SKY(OF EMPTINESS)

At first,
there was,
a tranquil silence...
But the wind
would not rest
and,stirred up a storm.

Tranquility
lay raped,
broken like
many pieces
of glass
that would never
fit together again.

Blood oozed out
of the depths
of the soul,
and poured out
of eyes as tears.

But what,
was the wind
anyway?

It could not
have emanated
out of a void,
for,is it
not true that
out of nothing
nothing comes?

Nothingness
is not for us,
to fathom
anyway...
How then,
does one
explain the emptiness...
maybe once touched,
kissed by
the warm breath
of the soft lips
of love?

Is it the same,
to be empty
and to be nothing?

Perhaps it
would be a lesser curse
to be nothing...
a lesser curse
to not be,
than being
hollow,
of no measure within...

Maybe these words,
run aflow
like a stream...
drops of a dream,
that dry up soon
and become
barren stars,
in a black sky of emptiness.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(2/4/2007)

AFTER THE ARMAGEDDON

Re-purged...
the earth begins to evolve once more...
and the
once-paralyzed corpses
ressurect and walk again;
The conflagration's over and done,
the shadow's released the sun...
bathed in light
we the living
forever forgiving,ourselves
for our 'sins'...
our past images broken,
dragged down to ashes,
Till the songs of sorrow
end in a note of mirth and
the tongue of torment
licks no more...
After the Armageddon.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(7/6/2003)

INFINITE

When I stare up
at the sky,
On a naked cloudless night
And see the speck-like giant stars
in thousands-----
gazing down upon the earth ...
This vault seems devoid of space,
Tranquilized by the illusion of time,
Swept away by the waves of boundless infinity------
I see a mirror image...
Too small to see,
Too small for me-----
And for once,
I feel ashamed of being a human

Anirban Kapil Baishya(19/5/2003)

AMNESIA

As of now
how I wish
thatI would wake
up with amnesia...
turn myself inside out,
to see who really
'I' is.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(10/12/2003)

AS I MASTURBATE

The sensation
of being alive,
Coupled by the love at the loins
Burns like a flame
of grace...
that flashes and flickers,
But the shadow- face that it throws at me
Is as unclear as the darkness
and the misty tears of ecstasy...
As painful as pleasure gets or
As pleasurable as the pangs
of lust------
As mystifying as the image behind my eyelids-----
As I masturbate.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(17/5/2003)