Yellow Rose To Reclaim



I have named you queen.

When you go through the streets
no one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
at the carpet of red gold
that you tread as you pass,
the nonexistent carpet.
Yellow Rose To Reclaim

At the Sounds Of Brazil
In a sea of women
Filtered by their taste of music
I missed you intensely
After having thought the chapter closed.

A Seattle woman said
She had a 5:30 AM flight back home.
I said, I hope you get plenty of sleep
On the plane.
And, by the way, nice music.
Have a nice life, I got to head out.

At the Leela Lounge
Some women from Law School
On Spring Break
Wanting to know
If I will walk them to the train station.
Was I chivalrous?

But I missed you.

That was indication
There is another chapter to the book
And another.

You have done me the favor
Of firmly saying
It is face time or not
I have been sinking deeper and deeper into the swamp
Of spending too much time alone
Too much time online, alone
To the detriment of my health
And basic social oxygen.

At moments of anger
We have taken turns
Of offering narratives
That discount the other.
Taking full advantage of
Not having hooked up yet.

The truth is
I never stopped liking you.
I have been moving towards you
Relentlessly
I have not meant to
Seek your permission.

Maybe 99% of white women
Follow the Miss 99% rule
Does that mean there is greater solace
Among 100% of Indian women
I think not, I know not.
What about white women who did like me
But who I did not click with?

I don't deal with race with you.
I deal with a world that deals with race.
It has not been you.

We share a religion
The progressive political religion.
I tried attending a Buddhist service
One Sunday on the Upper West Side
Upon invitation from a Japanese American young woman
From a Women's Unity Day event
Who met her NYU boyfriend in India.
I could not sit through
I could not focus on the mind
When I soar every day with group dynamics.
The difference is between a cell and an organism.

Long ago
You seeped into my subconscious.
Perhaps even deeper.
You did not ask.
I did not grant you permission.
You did not wait.

And yet you keep me away.

Every time you make your statements
You are right, you are right every single time
But by the time you are done making your statement
You end up alone. I end up alone.

You are used to being alone.
Make space for me.

You make it sound like there is
All the time in the world.
There is not.

When we have misunderstood each other
We have acted to prove the other right
I guess there are no short cuts.
We will risk becoming a laughing stock
To the world
While we have our lovers' quarrels
Before we are formally so.

I so wanted to take a look.

You wanted to shut the door in my face
Enough times
That I also would think the chapter closed.
Point taken.
Now open up.

Let's establish channels of
Communication.
There is so much living to do.
So much to talk about.

Or throw me to the dogs
Once and for all.
Talk to me no more
Through messengers and
Security guards and receptionists.
English is my sixth or ninth language
It is hard enough when you talk to me direct.

Don't touch me means you will touch my private part
I don't like you never did means
The event has not started yet, but stick around
Let's have a conversation.

You seek combat
Verbal jujutsu.

Take back your threat to become
Condi Rice.
You are not going to become one
You are going to appoint a few.
I was grossly misunderstood.
All I meant was let's meet outside of events.
But events are where we meet, my bad.
Why get distracted?

It is finally happening to me
Put me through
Another mandatory coat check.

Yellow Roses To Keep
Yellow Roses



Between the lips and the voice something goes dying ..... The way nets cannot hold water.

Your presence is foreign, as strange to me as a thing.
I think, I explore great tracts of my life before you.
My life before anyone, my harsh life.




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